Chapter 20: An Old Sunset

It seemed like the end of the world.

Bodies littered the clear battleground, blood splattering the concrete and trickling through the cracks, flowing like small rivers of death. Weapons laid haphazardly over the bodies, blades tinged with dark red, glinting in the night with teasing grins.

Chanyeol’s breath caught as his eyes swept over all the destruction, eyebrows furrowed and eyes looking desperately for that mass of messy black hair. He stumbled onto the battle ground, tripping over swords and decapitated bodies. He heard his officers follow behind him.

“H-hyung?”

He jumped at the sudden sound, snapping his head towards the direction of the voice.

“Jongin-ah!” He said in surprise, arms immediately enveloping Jongin in a big hug.

“Goodness, you’re finally back,” Jongin replied with his arms crossed as soon as they broke apart.

“Hey, I wasn’t gone for that long,” Chanyeol said, nudging Jongin. He peered behind Jongin. “So… where’s Baekhyun and Kyungsoo?”

Jongin’s eyes darkened and he looked away, hands his shirt.

“I… don’t know,” he said in a low voice.

A light wind picked up, ruffling the tree leaves and sending a shiver through Jongin. Chanyeol didn’t notice, mind reeling from what Jongin had said.

“What…do you mean?”

Jongin glanced at his brother, surprised by his dark tone. He saw Chanyeol’s expression, contorted with worry and shock, and quickly reassured him

“Don’t worry; t-they’ll be fine,” Jongin said, almost to himself, eyes sweeping the gravel on the ground. “They are fine,” he repeated with a new conviction in his voice, looking up at his brother.

Chanyeol nodded uncertainly, hearing the uncertainty in Jongin’s voice and feeling his panic level rise to impossible heights. Two of his guards rushed towards him, and one of them leaned in to whisper low in his ear.

“Prince, they have begun firing.”

Chanyeol’s head snapped up, and his eyes met Jongin’s, a mutual understanding passing between them.

“Jongin, I need you to get back to the palace and sit your there and not move,” Chanyeol said under his breath as he worked with his holster to extract his gun.

Jongin’s eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms. “Hyung, you’re an , did you know that?”

“You bet I did,” Chanyeol replied, finally having gotten his gun out. “Now go back to the palace.”

“Not a chance,” Jongin said defiantly, feet planted into the ground.

Chanyeol sighed and ran a hand through his auburn locks, mindlessly remembering the day Jongin and Sehun had coerced him into dying his hair and nearly scaring the lights out of Baekhyun when he saw him later in the day.

“We are not having this conversation,” Chanyeol said, uncharacteristically serious.

“But hyung—“

“Please, Jongin, I don’t need my younger brother running around on a battlefield getting himself killed.”

“Okay, now you’re being ridiculous,” Jongin deadpanned. “Why would I get myself killed, I’m ing awesome, okay?”

Despite himself, Chanyeol cracked a smile.

“Sure you are. Now go back to the stupid palace before you give me a migraine.”

Jongin glared at Chanyeol for a little longer, and after seeing that his brother really wasn’t going to give in, he gave a few angry huffs before stomping towards the direction of the palace, nearly giving his attendant a heart attack when he grabbed him by the collar.

“I hope you’re happy with yourself!” Jongin called over his shoulder, eliciting a chuckle from Chanyeol.

“I wonder if he’s drunk,” Chanyeol muttered to himself.

“No Crown Prince,” his guard replied, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and dimples full blown. “I am fairly sure Prince Jongin acts like this on a daily basis.”

Chanyeol barely managed to get in a guffaw before he heard gunshots, sounds that are now familiar to the outskirts of the palace. His mind flashed to a certain boy with messy black hair and slanted eyes and a voice too raspy to fit his pretty face, and he felt an unnatural fear mixed with an unexplainable warmth—quite an odd combination, but what can he say, lo—

“Holy there are bullets flying towards me,” Chanyeol shrieked, ducking behind his guard, who did nothing to shield Chanyeol.

Instead, he stepped out of the way and turned around to stare curiously at the Crown Prince.

“Prince? We’re in a battlefield,” he stated matter-of-factly, eyes still twinkling. “What did you expect?”

Chanyeol blinked up at the guard before coughing and standing up, brushing himself off.

“Of course I know we’re in a battlefield, okay,” he said. “I was just testi—holy mother of god there are more bullets!!”

By some miracle, Chanyeol managed to get himself and his guard (who was staring idly at the incoming bullets) out of shooting range and behind a wall. Taking a deep breath, he muttered some calming mantra to himself, consisting of peanut butter and pretty eye smiles from a pretty boy, and charged out of his hiding place, firing into the crowd of streltsy soldiers.

Ah, the red uniforms.

He remembered them, he remembered them clearly, more than he should. He remembered the arquebuses and the muskets and the scent of gunpowder mixed with something distinctly streltsy­-like. He remembered everything, faint memories from ten years ago resurfacing in his mind and sparking a new fire in his eyes and his chest, something to fight for.

He remembered the blood splattering the patterned carpet and the spilled wine glass with its shattered pieces cutting into his skin. He remembered the horrified look of his caretaker and the glassy eyes—

It was quiet. Suddenly, everything was quiet, and Chanyeol blinked, once, twice, before looking down. Finally, he saw the opponent he had been fighting, the one he had just shot in the chest.

He didn’t recognize the face, all bloody and dirty, but he recognized the badge pinned on the lapel of his uniform.

He was the general of the streltsy, the leader, the pillar, and the only thing holding the streltsy together.

And if he was dead… the streltsy was nothing.

Suddenly, cheers erupted around him, shocking Chanyeol and causing him to jump. His guard suddenly appeared next to him, clapping him on the back and giving him a bright smile.

“Good job, Crown Prince,” he said cheerfully, looking around the battlefield. “We can handle the rest. You may run off and find Baekhyun-shi now. I heard he’s at the side pavilion.”

Chanyeol could only stare at his guard and start laughing, breathy from exasperation and exhilaration.

“How come it sounds like you’re giving me permission?” Chanyeol asked, shaking his head from laughter.

“Maybe because I am?” The guard replied cheekily.

Good-naturedly, Chanyeol patted him in the shoulder.

“Then I’m off.”

He tilted his head in acknowledgement towards the guard, who gave him a full ninety degrees bow and a comical salute, before heading off to the other side of the palace. He’s just about a few feet away before he spun around.

“Ah! Before I forget!” Chanyeol grinned at the guard. “Your name?”

The guard looked surprised, but a smile grew on his face. “Zhang Yixing, sir.”

Chanyeol mouths the name thoughtfully before nodding once. “I’ll remember that.”

---

It was obvious that the battle at the side pavilion was in Chanyeol’s favor, but it didn’t look pretty. It looked like a mirror image of the front gates of the palace, bodies injured and bloody covering the expanse of the concrete now stained red.

As Chanyeol neared the soldiers, he recognized a few faces, much to his relief.

“Minseok!” He called, running quickly over to the centurion who was clearly in a deep discussion with a few of his soldiers.

Minseok ce he heard his name, and his eyes widened at the sight of Chanyeol.

“Crown Prince!” He and the soldiers around him immediately fell to their knees.

Disregarding the formalities, Chanyeol yanked Minseok up by the collar, feeling slightly apologetic but too worried to care.

“Where’s Baekhyun?” He asked frantically, his previous calm and cool having disappeared.

Minseok’s eyes swept Chanyeol’s face before dropping to the ground, bottom lip bloodied by his teeth.

“He’s… missing,” he said quietly, eyes not daring to meet Chanyeols.

He stumbled back as Chanyeol abruptly let go of his shirt, arm dropping to his side lifelessly.

“What?” Chanyeol asked in a low voice, eyes dark and almost blank.

Minseok his lips nervously before taking a small step towards Chanyeol, finally looking up at him.

“Prince, are you okay?” He asked, one hand outstretched as if ready to steady Chanyeol when needed.

“Baekhyun’s… missing?” Chanyeol said slowly, eyes wide and vulnerable, and Minseok was almost afraid to nod, scared that it might break him. Suddenly, his expression changed, eyebrows knit together and eyes flashed. “And was anyone sent to find him?” He demanded in an angry tone.

Minseok nodded again. “They’ve reported back a few times, but they couldn’t find him.”

“Bull,” Chanyeol spat. He tugged off his heavy armor and tossed it aside. “I’ll find him myself then.”

“Crown Pr—“ Minseok rushed forward to stop him, grabbing his arm.

When Minseok saw Chanyeol’s expression, his grip on him slackened, and he eventually let go. Chanyeol looked so lost and so confused, and Minseok lowered his eyes.

“Yes sir,” he said softly. “I’ll accompany you.”

A moment of silence hung in the air, and then, a stiff but earnest “thank you” was heard.

---

It hurt. Chanyeol couldn’t deny that it hurt. Not know where Baekhyun was, not knowing how he was doing, physically pained Chanyeol. Frantically searching through the wrecked battlefield was the only thing keeping his mind off of the pain growing in his chest.

Baekhyun, Baekhyun, Baekhyun.

Chanyeol could think of nothing else but Baekhyun—the way his lips would be slightly smiling when he greeted him, the way the edges of his eye would crinkle ever so gently when he laughed, and the way his voice sounded like that of an angel’s. He could only think of the times when they were young, when Baekhyun would sing softly while they built a small wooden ship together. When Baekhyun would hum Chanyeol’s favorite songs when they sat side by side on a small hill, watching the boat sail in the river, laughing when the wind upturned it, and running to set it upright again.

His eyes began to blur as he continued clawing his way through crowds and crowds of soldiers, occasionally grabbing one and desperately asking, “Have you seen Baekhyun?”

The reply was always a small shake of the head.

Chanyeol had never felt so hopeless, looking at the large masses of people. His eyes scanned quickly for Baekhyun’s small figure, but it seemed futile. He couldn’t find him, not with this many people, and goodness, what if Baekhyun was lying injured on one of the gurneys being carried around? He began hyperventilating, mind reeling from the thought, and Minseok’s strong grip on him was the only thing keeping him from collapsing.

Time seemed to fly past, and Chanyeol absently wondered if it had been hours since he had began looking for Baekhyun, or if it was merely minutes. He glanced gratefully at Minseok, who hadn’t uttered a single complaint and diligently helped Chanyeol.

“Crown Prince,” Minseok said suddenly, his voice breathless with surprise.

Chanyeol’s eyes widened from the tone, and his head immediately snapped up, eyes darting the direction Minseok was looking at. He let out a small gasp and took an involuntary step backwards, not believing his eyes.

Baekhyun, he mouthed for the millionth time.

He stumbled forward and nearly tripped on his own foot. But the radiant smile Baekhyun was giving him prompted him forward, and before he knew it, he was once again pushing his way through the crowd and running towards Baekhyun.

The amused look on Baekhyun’s face seemed almost surreal, and Chanyeol wondered if this really was Baekhyun and whether or not this was heaven. He skidded to a stop in front of his best friend, gasping for air and eyes trained on his face.

“Baek…Baekhyun?” He breathed, wonder and relief dancing in his words.

“Hello, you idiot,” Baekhyun greeted cheerfully.

He sounded tired and looked like he could use a warm bath and a good night’s sleep, but Chanyeol couldn’t have been happier. His eyes burned as he took a tentative step forward, arms coming up hesitantly. Baekhyun’s sweet smile widened, and suddenly, Chanyeol’s arms were strongly wrapped around Baekhyun’s small torso, and Chanyeol was burying his face in Baekhyun’s shoulder.

“Oh my God, you had me so worried,” he whispered, not trusting his voice at the moment.

Baekhyun gave a small chuckle and patted Chanyeol on the back.

“Well I’m okay right now, aren’t I?” He said. “I—“

Baekhyun’s body seemed to grow slack in Chanyeol’s embrace, and he pulled away slowly, afraid of what he’d find. His hand brushed Baekhyun’s arm, and it came away wet and warm, red seeping through the gauze that had been wrapping it. A similar stain was on the front of Baekhyun’s shirt, and it was too late when Chanyeol realized that it was blood.

“B-baekhyun?” Chanyeol whispered hesitantly. “Baekhyun? Baekhyun, wake up you idiot! Wake up!”

Baekhyun’s eyes remained closed, and his body stayed limp. Once again, Chanyeol felt hopeless and lost, not knowing what to do but to hold Baekhyun tightly towards him, feeling the warmth of his body, and praying to God that it wouldn’t fade.

_____________

A/N: UNBETA'D. The long-awaited chapter of badly written angst preceded by crack that was written for the sake of writing crack and because I read a whole afternoon of crack fics. Firstly, I want to apologize for being AWOL so much. It's just that school's really getting on my nerves, even during winter break, and all I do is roll around on my bed and mourn about life and school. Secondly, I'm so sorry about this terribly written chapter. I know, I know, it's below your expectations, but but but I'm sorry ;__; There's only so much BS one can vomit onto Word when suffering from writer's block. Third, and last of all, thank you alllll for staying with this story, even though I don't update often, and liking it, and commenting (please do comment, I love reading them lol), and prompting me to hurry my up and update (because that actually motivates me, believe it or not). Anyways, thank you all!!

Thank you!!

Peace out, guys.

And please read my Hunhan story? :D [link]