BACK FROM THE MIRROR for ANITA_DEE
For: anita_dee
Title: Back from the Mirror
Pairing(s): [Spoiler]Chanyeol/Lu Han
Rating: R
Warnings: drug references, brief suicide reference, descriptions of abuse/violence, non/dubcon
Length: ~3145 w.
Summary: Is it possible to dream another person's life?
Author's note: for my lovely recipient: I adore you and your prompt and I hope this story is okay even though it's probably not what you were envisioning.
The title is taken from In the Cold Light of Morning by Placebo.
there's a bright flash and then the colours all swim into a rainbow crushed into muddy darkness...
The first time it happened, he didn't realize it. He'd had really vivid dreams before, even if this one had a sort of familiar...weight? And now that he thought about it, it did seem more logical - a bit anyway - than some of his other nighttime head adventures. It was sadder too, and left a bitter taste on his tongue.
"Did you sleep okay?"
Chanyeol looked up at his friend's worried expression.
"Yes, I'm good." He shook the recollection of last night's dream from his head and stood up, following the stream of students from the class.
a needle is lying on a white countertop. his shaking fingers reaching out for it, his vision fading in and out, the needle piercing the inflamed skin of his inner left arm as his finger pushes the plunger and then the sigh.....air rushes out of his lungs
His arm still tingled, thinking about it.
"Do you ever have strange dreams?"
The clatter and rumbling voices of the university cafeteria receded into the background.
"Ummm, I dreamed about an eggplant once?" Baekhyun looked bored, twirling a strand of spaghetti on his plate with his fork.
"That's not strange, that's good luck." Kyungsoo smacked him on the back of the head with his lunch tray. Baekhyun put his hand to the back of his head and glared.
Chanyeol looked at his white plate, at his silver fork, and shuddered.
"Someone walk over your grave?" Jongdae looked at him, concerned. For some reason, he didn't feel like explaining.
"Just a chill."
Baekhyun, attention drawn away from sulking actively at Kyungsoo, shrugged.
"It's a little breezy. I'm done anyway, let's go."
there's a tongue in his mouth, wet and hot and it tastes weird and he's screaming but his body doesn't make any sounds except for a strange wet slurping sound as his lips move limply, receiving the sloppy kiss as cold hard fingers run down his backbone and dip lower...
He woke in a cold sweat, tears beading in the corners of his mouth that tasted sour and sticky and...violated. His back hurt. He touched his lips with a trembling finger, expecting them to be puffy and wet but there was nothing, just his familiar mouth.
- that was...a guy, right?
He didn't want to answer himself, but his head nodded involuntarily.
He shuddered.
"What's wrong?" Kyungsoo was chopping onions at the sink. His parents were at some type of health retreat so they were having a throw back to their old sleepovers, for nostalgia's sake, though the sleeping bags were far too small and they made kimchi spaghetti instead of begging Kyungsoo's mum for fanta and chips.
"Nothing." His mouth still felt too raw to talk about it, even if his skin was unbroken.
Kyungsoo set the knife down on the draining board and looked at him for a long moment.
"Okay," he said finally, "but remember that we're your friends."
Chanyeol nodded silently as the crisp sound of onions being chopped neatly returned to fill the room.
another cold dark room and the bed is sticky and wet and there's a needle crushed on the floor; he knows he stomped on it in rage - except he didn't - because it was empty. everything hurts and there's sweat pooling in the hollows of his collarbones. he lets out sharp gasps as his stomach spasms and he shakily starts to get to his feet but his body isn't listening.
Chanyeol woke in agony with a cramping stomach, tears trickling down his cheeks as he half-limped, half-dragged himself to the bathroom.
When he went down to breakfast, his mother took one look at his paper-white face and sent him straight back up to bed.
Kyungsoo -
Are you skipping?
Baekhyun -
Why aren't you in class?
Jongdae -
Are you okay?
Chanyeol -
Just a stomach thing. See you tomorrow!
"What happened yesterday?" Jongdae looked concerned but Baekhyun only whacked him on the back with an extra croissant and Kyungsoo tossed him a stack of notes.
"I need them back before you go home, okay?"
Chanyeol nodded.
He was sitting in the library, scanning notes onto his iPad when his vision went hazy.
there are lines of white powder on the table but he knows he's not allowed - he knows? - until he - there's a man sitting in the corner of the room and he doesn't want to go there; he's trailing his feet on the concrete while being dragged slowly over - "you little shit!" - his head rings from the blow to his ear and his vision comes out in spots -
Chanyeol's vision cleared but his head still spun and he rested his forehead on the backs of his suddenly clammy hands.
- what was that?
He looked around the library but no one seemed to have noticed anything; papers were still rustling as panicking students crammed last-minute.
After a few minutes the pain in his head subsided enough for him to gather his books and leave, but he walked more slowly than usual.
- ten, twenty, thirty, forty...
He was counting up on his fingers the number of strange dreams he had had since that first swirl of colour so many months back.
- and then the one in the library...
He didn't know what that had been and he really hoped it didn't happened again. The dreams were bad enough, especially -
pushed against a rough wall, his head spinning and vision blurring in and out, losing focus of the wall across the room as unknown teeth gnaw rough kisses on his neck and he knows - how? - that there'll be bruises later, blossoming into purple roses but right now heavy arms are pushing him down until his face is level with a soiled pair of expensive slacks zipper gaping open as something hard nudges his face and hands are twisted in his hair and he opens his mouth -
Chanyeol woke from that one with a scream bubbling out of lips he could finally control, choking back sobs and emptying the contents of his stomach on the ground, wild eyes examining the mess on the floor and expecting to see a white gooey puddle but it was only the regular disaster on his mother's pale carpet.
He groaned, sinking back onto his pillow and feebly tried to wipe his mouth with a trembling hand as his mother rushed in, clucking over the accident and smoothing cool compresses onto his forehead.
The next time it happened, he was ready, only -
the sharp prick of a needle piercing his skin, the sigh coming out of his mouth, being pushed backwards onto a bed and he's too euphoric to care - no I'm not euphoric! - as the mattress, soft this time, sinks as a weight lowers onto one end between his legs, large hand prying then apart and flipping him over and his face buried dreamily into the pillow - wake up!!! - as rough fingers catch onto the waistline of his pants and begin to peel them down off of his legs but he's too high to care - at first it hurts - nothing is supposed to go there! - but his body disagrees and then even that doesn't matter as his breathing speeds up, catching as fireworks go off on his head - no, stop!!! please!!! - and a heavy weigh collapses onto him, crushing the air from his lungs and he can feel the warmth inside as everything goes black...
Chanyeol woke, his breathing ragged and there was sticky stuff all over his bed and he wanted to scream but nothing came out.
Everything had already come out.
- I feel so gross and terrible and disgusting and scared and awful...
But what was most awful wasn't the fact that it was awful. It was the lurking knowledge that somewhere, deep down inside, a part of him had liked it.
Chanyeol curled himself up into a ball in his closet and when his mother came looking because he was going to be late for his morning class, he couldn't tell her what was wrong.
"Umm..."
"Yes?" Baekhyun looked up. He was scribbling out illegible notes on lined paper, black-framed glasses perched on his nose.
"Have you ever - "
Chanyeol thought about pulling Baekhyun out of his chair, lifting his chin and covering his mouth with his own.
He shuddered.
"Have I ever what?" Baekhyun turned, pushing his glasses back up his nose with one long finger.
"Never mind."
Baekhyun looked puzzled but shrugged and let it go.
Chanyeol didn't think about scarred knees and tracked arms.
｡｡｡
He didn't want to fall asleep. He didn't want to feel that way again.
- I'm so confused...
He drank five cups of coffee before bed and his mother looked at him strangely.
"I just felt like coffee." His justification rang false.
He propped himself up with pillows, put on his scratchiest t-shirt and listened to the grittiest experimental music he could find but...
he's not in a room this time - it's a car or something, he can't tell because there's something covering his eyes and he needs- but he knows he won't get it - get what? - until afterwards: he's too clear headed and it hurts, everything hurts, he can hardly move his legs and his arms are tied - what's happening to me? - behind his back, fingers numb and he desperately needs - needs WHAT? - but as the vehicle bumps along he wishes, for a brief moment between pain, that things weren't this way, that they were like -
Chanyeol woke up crying and he couldn't explain why.
He opened all the blinds and turned on all the lights and sat in his blankets on the sofa, watching cartoons.
- What was it like when I was small and felt safe?
His mother didn't ask any questions but the lines on her forehead pulled a little tighter.
"What's wrong with you today?" Jongdae looked concerned.
They were standing in line for subway passes because Chanyeol had lost his on the way to school when -
he's shivering, sitting alone on the cold and gritty bathroom floor - it smells like the vomit he just emptied into the toilet behind him and his elbows and knees are bleeding. he doesn't have enough energy to care. there's a needle sitting on the counter and he would kill to reach it but he's shaking and the pain in his back won't let him stand up. - what happened to me? - there's a shout from the other side of the door and fear sends a sudden burst of adrenaline through his veins as he struggles up, moaning to climb the counter, red spotting the white veneer as his elbows drag across the surface and he glances up at the mirror - that's not me. - he's confused and his weak grip slips and he's falling backwards...
When Chanyeol's eyes had cleared he had still been sitting in the subway car, shoulders slumped to one side and no one seemed to have noticed, but he had been so flustered that when he heard his stop called, he had forgotten his bag and everything behind in the mad scramble.
So now he stood in the line with Jongdae and tried to dodge his friend's concern.
"How did you lose it again?"
Jongdae was too observant. Chanyeol didn't want to be here but he had to or risk explaining it to his mother.
- I'll take Jongdae any day.
"I just misplaced it." He tried for a moment to shrug but it came out more like a shiver.
Jongdae stared at him for a while before sighing. Chanyeol knew he that had won this round.
- Why do I feel so lonely?
He couldn't get the face out of his mind. The face that was him but wasn't him. The body that was his but wasn't his. The pain and sensations and feelings...
- what feelings?
"What's wrong?"
They were sitting at the back of the lecture and Chanyeol had given up on the notes. He was glancing at Baekhyun out of the corner of one eye -
crash! he's thrown against the floor - flash! lights go off and -
Chanyeol blinked. He was used to it by now.
"Do you really want to know?"
Baekhyun nodded absently. He was more focused on the professor drawing a vacuum diagram on the board.
Chanyeol took a deep breath.
"I don't know if you'll believe me, but I think I'm dreaming some one else's life."
Baekhyun dropped his pencil.
"Are you pulling a Jongdae?"
Chanyeol only sighed and bent to put his notebook away. Class was as good as over. He was just rezipping his bag -
his head is throbbing and everything is black..."Lu Han. Lu Han! Lu Han open your fucking eyes and stop pretending!" there's a stinging pain on his face and he opens his eyes -
He was on the floor and he didn't know how he had gotten there.
He looked up and saw something noisy hovering in his field of vision. He blinked, and Baekhyun's face came into focus.
"You weren't kidding, were you."
There were red starbursts in the corners of his eyes as he nodded.
He was dreaming more often now. Every night for long stretches, more and more slips throughout the day.
- Lu Han.
He saw the concerned faces of his friends but didn't notice them.
His fingers were curious.
he's slumped over, leaning against the white plaster - he's reflected in the window across. he's too low down the wall and all he can see is sky not city but he reaches out one shaking hand anyway - Lu Han... - his blond hair is matted and there's something dried over his ear...he shivers and draws in his knees to his chest, hugging himself close as his stomach eats itself from the inside out and he locks eyes with - myself? - reflected in the glass. "who are you?"
"Chanyeol."
Kyungsoo's voice was echoing through his aching head as he dozed in his chair - he didn't sleep anymore he only dreamt
- Lu Han
"Chanyeol!"
Someone was shaking him - he opened his eyes.
he opens his eyes but there's something covering them, as more sharp metal bites into his arm and another strange body leaves another mess inside - "good boy" - he wonders if it's worth it at all, maybe he should just pretend so that he gets another shot and then it will all be over - don't you dare! - the cloth comes off and the red around his eyes is nothing new -
Chanyeol couldn't remember anymore which body was his and which body was Lu Han and he ached all the time and he didn't know what he felt about anything anymore.
- I want to touch my finger tips to the hollows of your cheekbones.
"Chanyeol!"
Kyungsoo cupped his hands around Chanyeol's head impatiently, frustration seeping into his voice, and forced him to look up to meet his sharp gaze.
Chanyeol thought about Lu Han's eyes.
"Get ahold of yourself." Kyungsoo was angry, the kind of emotion that is only a knife-edge away from fear.
But Chanyeol couldn't find himself to be able to hold on to it.
Kyungsoo was glaring but his eyes were too big - the worry in them was too much to bear - Chanyeol propped himself out of the chair with trembling elbows and stumbled towards his room but crash! his arm caught on the bottle of red wine on the counter and it shattered, glass flying everywhere and red covering the floor -
fear red lights screaming gunshots red sirens fear screaming he props himself up on the ground but he's blinded by the strobing blasts screams splitting his head apart and something's coming he can feel the change in the air he ducks but not enough -
Chanyeol opened his eyes.
Everything was white and he felt like he'd slept for a month.
He'd slept for a month.
- Lu Han?
His friends came in and patted his back and fed him chocolate and dragged him laughing out of the hospital a day later after he'd cleared a clean bill of health but Chanyeol didn't care.
- Lu Han?
He hadn't dreamt since.
"Something happened to him, I know it."
Baekhyun stared at the television, stuffing popcorn and chocolate into his face while ignoring Chanyeol as usual.
"Maybe he's dead."
Chanyeol ran his hands through his hair in frustration
- I need to do something!
But he didn't even know where to start.
"Police are still looking for information as to the identity of a young man rescued from last month's international drug bust where a previously unsuspected human trafficking ring was also discovered."
The sound of chewing grated on Chanyeol's nerves as he snapped all of his attention onto the screen and there -
"Lu Han."
Chanyeol's voice was barely a breath of air as he saw the face on the plasma screen.
His face.
His face.
He was running for the door before Baekhyun could choke down the last mouthful.
"I know him from a dream" being less than substantial information, Chanyeol had had to resort to baldfaced lies about long lost high school friends transferring out halfway through the year and about ten thousand other small "details" invented mid-sentence but finally he was allowed to enter the room, only polyester separating him from -
"He has amnesia," the white-coated physician had explained and Chanyeol had nodded impatiently, the warning going in one ear and out the other because
- Lu Han
So now he stood, only a thin curtain separating him from the bed, and he didn't know what to do.
But his fingers decided for him, pulling the fabric aside and -
There he was.
His hair was no longer matted and crusted with pale and darker things, his eyes were only slightly red and there were white bandages -
Chanyeol was frozen but his feet stepped closer by themselves.
He looked at the sleeping form against the white sheets and felt -
longing
The eyes opened - he stepped back, surprised, but a bone-thin arm darted out and weakly grasped at the burgundy fabric of his shirt -
The roughed voice sounded cracked/damaged but
"I remember you."
Chanyeol stopped.
Waited.
Lu Han blinked his eyes slowly.
"You were in the mirror."
Chanyeol started breathing.
Final author's note: Thank you so much to everyone who kept me going, A and M for helping me decide on a pairing, R for holding my hand throughout and word warring, T and S for helping along the way and keeping me on track and, along with J, emergency help at the 11h hour, and again to M for being so kind about everything.
Title: Back from the Mirror
Pairing(s): [Spoiler]Chanyeol/Lu Han
Rating: R
Warnings: drug references, brief suicide reference, descriptions of abuse/violence, non/dubcon
Length: ~3145 w.
Summary: Is it possible to dream another person's life?
Author's note: for my lovely recipient: I adore you and your prompt and I hope this story is okay even though it's probably not what you were envisioning.
The title is taken from In the Cold Light of Morning by Placebo.
there's a bright flash and then the colours all swim into a rainbow crushed into muddy darkness...
The first time it happened, he didn't realize it. He'd had really vivid dreams before, even if this one had a sort of familiar...weight? And now that he thought about it, it did seem more logical - a bit anyway - than some of his other nighttime head adventures. It was sadder too, and left a bitter taste on his tongue.
"Did you sleep okay?"
Chanyeol looked up at his friend's worried expression.
"Yes, I'm good." He shook the recollection of last night's dream from his head and stood up, following the stream of students from the class.
a needle is lying on a white countertop. his shaking fingers reaching out for it, his vision fading in and out, the needle piercing the inflamed skin of his inner left arm as his finger pushes the plunger and then the sigh.....air rushes out of his lungs
His arm still tingled, thinking about it.
"Do you ever have strange dreams?"
The clatter and rumbling voices of the university cafeteria receded into the background.
"Ummm, I dreamed about an eggplant once?" Baekhyun looked bored, twirling a strand of spaghetti on his plate with his fork.
"That's not strange, that's good luck." Kyungsoo smacked him on the back of the head with his lunch tray. Baekhyun put his hand to the back of his head and glared.
Chanyeol looked at his white plate, at his silver fork, and shuddered.
"Someone walk over your grave?" Jongdae looked at him, concerned. For some reason, he didn't feel like explaining.
"Just a chill."
Baekhyun, attention drawn away from sulking actively at Kyungsoo, shrugged.
"It's a little breezy. I'm done anyway, let's go."
there's a tongue in his mouth, wet and hot and it tastes weird and he's screaming but his body doesn't make any sounds except for a strange wet slurping sound as his lips move limply, receiving the sloppy kiss as cold hard fingers run down his backbone and dip lower...
He woke in a cold sweat, tears beading in the corners of his mouth that tasted sour and sticky and...violated. His back hurt. He touched his lips with a trembling finger, expecting them to be puffy and wet but there was nothing, just his familiar mouth.
- that was...a guy, right?
He didn't want to answer himself, but his head nodded involuntarily.
He shuddered.
"What's wrong?" Kyungsoo was chopping onions at the sink. His parents were at some type of health retreat so they were having a throw back to their old sleepovers, for nostalgia's sake, though the sleeping bags were far too small and they made kimchi spaghetti instead of begging Kyungsoo's mum for fanta and chips.
"Nothing." His mouth still felt too raw to talk about it, even if his skin was unbroken.
Kyungsoo set the knife down on the draining board and looked at him for a long moment.
"Okay," he said finally, "but remember that we're your friends."
Chanyeol nodded silently as the crisp sound of onions being chopped neatly returned to fill the room.
another cold dark room and the bed is sticky and wet and there's a needle crushed on the floor; he knows he stomped on it in rage - except he didn't - because it was empty. everything hurts and there's sweat pooling in the hollows of his collarbones. he lets out sharp gasps as his stomach spasms and he shakily starts to get to his feet but his body isn't listening.
Chanyeol woke in agony with a cramping stomach, tears trickling down his cheeks as he half-limped, half-dragged himself to the bathroom.
When he went down to breakfast, his mother took one look at his paper-white face and sent him straight back up to bed.
Kyungsoo -
Are you skipping?
Baekhyun -
Why aren't you in class?
Jongdae -
Are you okay?
Chanyeol -
Just a stomach thing. See you tomorrow!
"What happened yesterday?" Jongdae looked concerned but Baekhyun only whacked him on the back with an extra croissant and Kyungsoo tossed him a stack of notes.
"I need them back before you go home, okay?"
Chanyeol nodded.
He was sitting in the library, scanning notes onto his iPad when his vision went hazy.
there are lines of white powder on the table but he knows he's not allowed - he knows? - until he - there's a man sitting in the corner of the room and he doesn't want to go there; he's trailing his feet on the concrete while being dragged slowly over - "you little shit!" - his head rings from the blow to his ear and his vision comes out in spots -
Chanyeol's vision cleared but his head still spun and he rested his forehead on the backs of his suddenly clammy hands.
- what was that?
He looked around the library but no one seemed to have noticed anything; papers were still rustling as panicking students crammed last-minute.
After a few minutes the pain in his head subsided enough for him to gather his books and leave, but he walked more slowly than usual.
- ten, twenty, thirty, forty...
He was counting up on his fingers the number of strange dreams he had had since that first swirl of colour so many months back.
- and then the one in the library...
He didn't know what that had been and he really hoped it didn't happened again. The dreams were bad enough, especially -
pushed against a rough wall, his head spinning and vision blurring in and out, losing focus of the wall across the room as unknown teeth gnaw rough kisses on his neck and he knows - how? - that there'll be bruises later, blossoming into purple roses but right now heavy arms are pushing him down until his face is level with a soiled pair of expensive slacks zipper gaping open as something hard nudges his face and hands are twisted in his hair and he opens his mouth -
Chanyeol woke from that one with a scream bubbling out of lips he could finally control, choking back sobs and emptying the contents of his stomach on the ground, wild eyes examining the mess on the floor and expecting to see a white gooey puddle but it was only the regular disaster on his mother's pale carpet.
He groaned, sinking back onto his pillow and feebly tried to wipe his mouth with a trembling hand as his mother rushed in, clucking over the accident and smoothing cool compresses onto his forehead.
The next time it happened, he was ready, only -
the sharp prick of a needle piercing his skin, the sigh coming out of his mouth, being pushed backwards onto a bed and he's too euphoric to care - no I'm not euphoric! - as the mattress, soft this time, sinks as a weight lowers onto one end between his legs, large hand prying then apart and flipping him over and his face buried dreamily into the pillow - wake up!!! - as rough fingers catch onto the waistline of his pants and begin to peel them down off of his legs but he's too high to care - at first it hurts - nothing is supposed to go there! - but his body disagrees and then even that doesn't matter as his breathing speeds up, catching as fireworks go off on his head - no, stop!!! please!!! - and a heavy weigh collapses onto him, crushing the air from his lungs and he can feel the warmth inside as everything goes black...
Chanyeol woke, his breathing ragged and there was sticky stuff all over his bed and he wanted to scream but nothing came out.
Everything had already come out.
- I feel so gross and terrible and disgusting and scared and awful...
But what was most awful wasn't the fact that it was awful. It was the lurking knowledge that somewhere, deep down inside, a part of him had liked it.
Chanyeol curled himself up into a ball in his closet and when his mother came looking because he was going to be late for his morning class, he couldn't tell her what was wrong.
"Umm..."
"Yes?" Baekhyun looked up. He was scribbling out illegible notes on lined paper, black-framed glasses perched on his nose.
"Have you ever - "
Chanyeol thought about pulling Baekhyun out of his chair, lifting his chin and covering his mouth with his own.
He shuddered.
"Have I ever what?" Baekhyun turned, pushing his glasses back up his nose with one long finger.
"Never mind."
Baekhyun looked puzzled but shrugged and let it go.
Chanyeol didn't think about scarred knees and tracked arms.
｡｡｡
He didn't want to fall asleep. He didn't want to feel that way again.
- I'm so confused...
He drank five cups of coffee before bed and his mother looked at him strangely.
"I just felt like coffee." His justification rang false.
He propped himself up with pillows, put on his scratchiest t-shirt and listened to the grittiest experimental music he could find but...
he's not in a room this time - it's a car or something, he can't tell because there's something covering his eyes and he needs- but he knows he won't get it - get what? - until afterwards: he's too clear headed and it hurts, everything hurts, he can hardly move his legs and his arms are tied - what's happening to me? - behind his back, fingers numb and he desperately needs - needs WHAT? - but as the vehicle bumps along he wishes, for a brief moment between pain, that things weren't this way, that they were like -
Chanyeol woke up crying and he couldn't explain why.
He opened all the blinds and turned on all the lights and sat in his blankets on the sofa, watching cartoons.
- What was it like when I was small and felt safe?
His mother didn't ask any questions but the lines on her forehead pulled a little tighter.
"What's wrong with you today?" Jongdae looked concerned.
They were standing in line for subway passes because Chanyeol had lost his on the way to school when -
he's shivering, sitting alone on the cold and gritty bathroom floor - it smells like the vomit he just emptied into the toilet behind him and his elbows and knees are bleeding. he doesn't have enough energy to care. there's a needle sitting on the counter and he would kill to reach it but he's shaking and the pain in his back won't let him stand up. - what happened to me? - there's a shout from the other side of the door and fear sends a sudden burst of adrenaline through his veins as he struggles up, moaning to climb the counter, red spotting the white veneer as his elbows drag across the surface and he glances up at the mirror - that's not me. - he's confused and his weak grip slips and he's falling backwards...
When Chanyeol's eyes had cleared he had still been sitting in the subway car, shoulders slumped to one side and no one seemed to have noticed, but he had been so flustered that when he heard his stop called, he had forgotten his bag and everything behind in the mad scramble.
So now he stood in the line with Jongdae and tried to dodge his friend's concern.
"How did you lose it again?"
Jongdae was too observant. Chanyeol didn't want to be here but he had to or risk explaining it to his mother.
- I'll take Jongdae any day.
"I just misplaced it." He tried for a moment to shrug but it came out more like a shiver.
Jongdae stared at him for a while before sighing. Chanyeol knew he that had won this round.
- Why do I feel so lonely?
He couldn't get the face out of his mind. The face that was him but wasn't him. The body that was his but wasn't his. The pain and sensations and feelings...
- what feelings?
"What's wrong?"
They were sitting at the back of the lecture and Chanyeol had given up on the notes. He was glancing at Baekhyun out of the corner of one eye -
crash! he's thrown against the floor - flash! lights go off and -
Chanyeol blinked. He was used to it by now.
"Do you really want to know?"
Baekhyun nodded absently. He was more focused on the professor drawing a vacuum diagram on the board.
Chanyeol took a deep breath.
"I don't know if you'll believe me, but I think I'm dreaming some one else's life."
Baekhyun dropped his pencil.
"Are you pulling a Jongdae?"
Chanyeol only sighed and bent to put his notebook away. Class was as good as over. He was just rezipping his bag -
his head is throbbing and everything is black..."Lu Han. Lu Han! Lu Han open your fucking eyes and stop pretending!" there's a stinging pain on his face and he opens his eyes -
He was on the floor and he didn't know how he had gotten there.
He looked up and saw something noisy hovering in his field of vision. He blinked, and Baekhyun's face came into focus.
"You weren't kidding, were you."
There were red starbursts in the corners of his eyes as he nodded.
He was dreaming more often now. Every night for long stretches, more and more slips throughout the day.
- Lu Han.
He saw the concerned faces of his friends but didn't notice them.
His fingers were curious.
he's slumped over, leaning against the white plaster - he's reflected in the window across. he's too low down the wall and all he can see is sky not city but he reaches out one shaking hand anyway - Lu Han... - his blond hair is matted and there's something dried over his ear...he shivers and draws in his knees to his chest, hugging himself close as his stomach eats itself from the inside out and he locks eyes with - myself? - reflected in the glass. "who are you?"
"Chanyeol."
Kyungsoo's voice was echoing through his aching head as he dozed in his chair - he didn't sleep anymore he only dreamt
- Lu Han
"Chanyeol!"
Someone was shaking him - he opened his eyes.
he opens his eyes but there's something covering them, as more sharp metal bites into his arm and another strange body leaves another mess inside - "good boy" - he wonders if it's worth it at all, maybe he should just pretend so that he gets another shot and then it will all be over - don't you dare! - the cloth comes off and the red around his eyes is nothing new -
Chanyeol couldn't remember anymore which body was his and which body was Lu Han and he ached all the time and he didn't know what he felt about anything anymore.
- I want to touch my finger tips to the hollows of your cheekbones.
"Chanyeol!"
Kyungsoo cupped his hands around Chanyeol's head impatiently, frustration seeping into his voice, and forced him to look up to meet his sharp gaze.
Chanyeol thought about Lu Han's eyes.
"Get ahold of yourself." Kyungsoo was angry, the kind of emotion that is only a knife-edge away from fear.
But Chanyeol couldn't find himself to be able to hold on to it.
Kyungsoo was glaring but his eyes were too big - the worry in them was too much to bear - Chanyeol propped himself out of the chair with trembling elbows and stumbled towards his room but crash! his arm caught on the bottle of red wine on the counter and it shattered, glass flying everywhere and red covering the floor -
fear red lights screaming gunshots red sirens fear screaming he props himself up on the ground but he's blinded by the strobing blasts screams splitting his head apart and something's coming he can feel the change in the air he ducks but not enough -
Chanyeol opened his eyes.
Everything was white and he felt like he'd slept for a month.
He'd slept for a month.
- Lu Han?
His friends came in and patted his back and fed him chocolate and dragged him laughing out of the hospital a day later after he'd cleared a clean bill of health but Chanyeol didn't care.
- Lu Han?
He hadn't dreamt since.
"Something happened to him, I know it."
Baekhyun stared at the television, stuffing popcorn and chocolate into his face while ignoring Chanyeol as usual.
"Maybe he's dead."
Chanyeol ran his hands through his hair in frustration
- I need to do something!
But he didn't even know where to start.
"Police are still looking for information as to the identity of a young man rescued from last month's international drug bust where a previously unsuspected human trafficking ring was also discovered."
The sound of chewing grated on Chanyeol's nerves as he snapped all of his attention onto the screen and there -
"Lu Han."
Chanyeol's voice was barely a breath of air as he saw the face on the plasma screen.
His face.
His face.
He was running for the door before Baekhyun could choke down the last mouthful.
"I know him from a dream" being less than substantial information, Chanyeol had had to resort to baldfaced lies about long lost high school friends transferring out halfway through the year and about ten thousand other small "details" invented mid-sentence but finally he was allowed to enter the room, only polyester separating him from -
"He has amnesia," the white-coated physician had explained and Chanyeol had nodded impatiently, the warning going in one ear and out the other because
- Lu Han
So now he stood, only a thin curtain separating him from the bed, and he didn't know what to do.
But his fingers decided for him, pulling the fabric aside and -
There he was.
His hair was no longer matted and crusted with pale and darker things, his eyes were only slightly red and there were white bandages -
Chanyeol was frozen but his feet stepped closer by themselves.
He looked at the sleeping form against the white sheets and felt -
longing
The eyes opened - he stepped back, surprised, but a bone-thin arm darted out and weakly grasped at the burgundy fabric of his shirt -
The roughed voice sounded cracked/damaged but
"I remember you."
Chanyeol stopped.
Waited.
Lu Han blinked his eyes slowly.
"You were in the mirror."
Chanyeol started breathing.
Final author's note: Thank you so much to everyone who kept me going, A and M for helping me decide on a pairing, R for holding my hand throughout and word warring, T and S for helping along the way and keeping me on track and, along with J, emergency help at the 11h hour, and again to M for being so kind about everything.