His feet led him to Xiumin’s room. Where else could he go? Sehun had been his only refuge, and he had personally destroyed it.

Maybe, maybe . . .

He shoved that thought away. Threw it onto the ground and stomped on it. There was no turning back. Lay and Sehun were no more.

At Xiumin’s door, he raised his hand to knock but faltered. Everything he knew now came rushing back into his mind at full power. The accusations and guilt screamed at him. It’s because of him that his friends became criminals. It’s because of him that they became murderers! It’s all because of him!

Was he allowed to go to them for comfort?

Well, he didn’t care. Didn’t have the capacity to care.

Lay pushed the door open.

When he saw Xiumin alone, he let out a breath. He was relieved for seeing his brother without the other person.

“Xing?”

“Xiu-” Lay’s voice trailed off in a quiver.

Despite his questioning gaze, Xiumin didn’t ask anything and just pat the spot next to him on the bed. Lay all but ran and fell into Xiumin’s arms.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry,” he asked. “I’m sorry,” he begged. “I’m sorry,” he implored. “I’m sorry,” he cried. “I’m so-”

Xiumin cut him off with a powerful shake. “What are you apologizing for?”

He stopped and stared dumbly, the hysteria strangled. Then it came back. “I don’t know,” he blubbered. “I’m just so sorry for everything. It’s all my fault. I dragged everyone I knew into my mess and hurt everyone and this is why Kris and Luhan hate me. Don’t hate me, Xiumin, please don’t hate me, but you should, I know. No one trusts me-”

“Sh . . .” Xiumin cut him off once again, this time much gentler. “Don’t speak such nonsense. None of us hates you.” Lay didn’t try to respond. He was a rag doll now and looked on with glassy eyes as Xiumin positioned him under the covers, head on the pillow. 

“Try to sleep, okay?” Xiumin murmured. “Things won’t be better when you wake up, but you’ll have the energy to deal with them.”

Obediently, Lay closed his eyes. Xiumin remained sitting.

He massaged circles into Lay’s hand, the way he always did when the younger had nightmares and needed comfort.

Earlier today, Luhan had warned Xiumin that the boy had changed. It was true though. Who wouldn’t change? But the way Luhan had uttered those words pissed Xiumin off, as if he was supposed to suspect and be wary of his little brother. It was the first blow up they’ve had since waking up here.

The other man had tried to explain that no, he only wished Lay would go back to his old self. But Xiumin couldn’t take it. He couldn’t do anything, and he didn’t want to do anything. They were stuck in this house and things were eerily like déjà vu.

Like when, all those years ago, Luhan had pulled him to the side and warned him that the man they were helping was Lay. He would do anything, everything for Yixing, but Lay was a stranger to Luhan. Xiumin had accused him of betraying the cause he started himself. They had been best friends since childhood and that night saw the biggest argument they’ve ever had.

“What the are you trying to say?”  Xiumin remembered shoving Luhan against a wall, his other hand already reaching for his gun.

Luhan had been calm, cold fire. “He’s turned into a monster and we helped him get to this point.”

Xiumin really hoped it wouldn’t play out exactly as before. He shouldn’t have to worry, since gun fights were probably not possible here. Regardless, he would make the same decisions as before . . .

And he may have said all this out loud. And Lay may have heard it all. His words seeped into Lay’s consciousness, burrowing into his heart and spreading like poison through the arteries.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

He’s running.

The grass is purple, the sky is green.

He runs past the purple grass, runs under the green sky, under the gray sun and red clouds. He runs and it is raining tears of blood, streaking down his face and mixing with the charcoal and ash.

He’s running, runs and runs, and the satchel of bullets knocks against his thigh.

The skeleton of a mansion rises up in front of him. The hungry fire is sated by the torrent of blood and he takes a deep breath. The metallic petrichor enters him, fills up his lungs and heart, and he falls to his knees with a heavy thud.

The gray sun is an awning hole in the green sky and the purple grass is tinged with dark, dark red. The chrome is heavy in his hand, searing into his palm. Smoke envelopes him, his eyelashes are singed and the wind lashes across his face. His eyes burn and he weeps but the tears evaporate like souls leaving dying men.

Under the bleeding clouds, he cries. The haze clears and a body appears, hanging, swinging. There is a slim, pale neck, unmarred if one can ignore the band of angry red. The breeze ruffles the soft hair, golden locks matted with copper. It has a beautiful face, with high cheekbones and a sharp jawline, but half of it is gone – caved in, blown apart, carried by the wind.

No! he cries, watching as the body sways. I- I'm so sorry, no please, please I’m sorry.

He purges, vomit joining the red rain and watering the purple grass.

Shixun.

Sehun.

The grass is purple, the sky is green. The sun is gray, the clouds are red.

The boy weeps, the body swings.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Lay woke up, drenched in cold sweat.

Xiumin was still beside him, giving him support.

The world swam in and out of focus, the lone lightbulb swinging. He was blinded and plunged into darkness and everything was like a fever dream.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Every angle and shadow is sharper at night, under the cool moonlight. Cartridges and shells litter the ground like droplets of crystal rain. Explosions fill the street, but all he can see are the flashes like lightning. The menacing silhouettes and unmoving lumps, already cold. It’s as if he’s under water and all he can hear is his thudding heart.

And Xiumin panting beside him. His shoulder is soaked through, glistening in the occasional light.

“They’re ing cockroaches,” Lay spits out as he reloads his gun. “They just won’t die.”

Xiumin looks deeply into his eyes without speaking, for a long, long time.

“What?” he asks, a little disconcerted.

Xiumin’s mouth forms one word. “Go.”

He doesn’t try to understand. “What?”

“There’s too many of them!” Xiumin is already pushing him toward their escape alley. Shouting over his protests, Xiumin is firm. “We’re outnumbered, they’re looking for blood and you can’t die. I won’t let you!” His voice cracks and the rawness seeps through.

“No, I’m not leaving. No ing way.”

“Leave and find help. Go.” Xiumin gives a faint smile and Lay wants to scream. “I’ll knock you unconscious if I have to.”

Lay opens his mouth but a bullet whizzes by. Xiumin shoves him away; the bullet shoots into the space between the brothers, making a small hole, but too big to be ignored. He looks up, but the man is already charging into the open fire.

He hates himself, the hate weighs down his limbs, but he runs. Away.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Lay woke up, drenched in cold sweat.

Xiumin was not there anymore. 

i actually don't know what im doing anymore lol. i was supposed to have xiuhan argue before the whole ing fiasco, but i forgot about my own plan akwhfoeashdojkf;haiweuf i need a beta QAQ