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“Well now. Here it ends.”

Wufan stared up at the sky

Even through blurred vision, through the blood that ran into his eyes he could see the vast night sky of EXO Planet. No stars shined. Thunderclouds blanketed the sky, dispersing slowly with no power to guide them. Some distance away, Yixing the unicorn lay cold and dead; the link between them severed. It had known all along that he could not kill his own brother.

Chanyeol did not share his sentiment. Pressing a hard-booted heel down on Wufan’s broken chest he leaned over his brother, joyful wrath glinting in his eyes. Chanyeol’s sharp-tipped staff pressed against the hollow of Wufan’s throat with cruel intent.  

“I suppose I can afford to be gracious just this one time,” Chanyeol said wickedly, edgy with his victory so near. “Now tell me, Wufan. Brother. Heir to the throne of EXO Planet. do you have any last words?” 

Wufan pulled a shallow breath into his lungs, blinking up at the hazy outline of his brother’s face in the darkness. What was there to say? That he was sorry, that he wished things had turned out differently? That Wufan loved Chanyeol even until this persecond, with his body shattered and a staff to his throat - that he would always love his greedy, cruel, broken younger brother? The words had already been said, a thousand-thousand times over. Liars never recognised the truth for what it was.

Wufan held a heart full of regrets where Chanyeol was concerned. But words held no sway with him anymore, and so there was nothing more to be said.

Chanyeoli’s smile slowly faded with Wufan’s continued silence, his good humour draining away into something dark and tight and desperate.

“Nothing? The mighty Wufan with nothing to say?”

A rush of breathless laughter escaped Chanyeol, and he cast an eye around the desolate area as though searching for a witness to the occasion. But the dart of his eyes was wild, his smile more a vicious baring of teeth than anything resembling happiness. Chanyeol had not expected this. 

Below him Wufan coughed, feeling bile and blood boiling in the back of his throat. Turning his head he choked and spat it out, breathing raggedly, knowing his strength had waned too much. It would not be long. He barely felt the fingers that swiped across his bloody mouth, didn’t register Chanyeol kneeling beside him until a hand curved under his skull, turning his head to meet his brother’s gaze.

“You think I won’t do it—you think I’m not strong enough? Is that it?” Another laugh, or was it a sob? Chanyeoli trembled with terrible emotion, knuckles whitening as he gripped the staff, held it aloft and ready to strike.

“My entire life has led me to this, Wufan, to this moment. My victory over you. If you think I-I-I’m not going to strike, if you think—”

“Channie,” Wufan whispered, the name bloody as it slipped off his tongue. “You have already killed me. Be at peace, now.” 

Hazel eyes widened as they stared down at him and Chanyeoli’s fractured composure finally fell apart. The staff fell from his fingers, hitting the hard-packed dirt with a muffled clang. A searching gaze darted over Wufan’s splayed limbs, his pallor, the blood.

Victory.

“I did it,” Chanyeoli whispered, terrified.

Tear-bright, his eyes sought Wufan’s. Sought forgiveness, sought safety and refuge and acceptance where he had only turned it away before. This was Wufan, his big brother. Loyal, stupid, arrogant—and now, now, kind-hearted to a fault. Merciful. Strong. Warm and bright and everything Chanyeoli had hated—

“Please, I’m sorry. I…”

But as he stared down at his brother Chanyeoli knew there would be no forgiveness for him. Wufan had died quietly between one breath and the next, slipping away in the ruin of his brother’s regret.

Be at peace, Chanyeol thought, and laughed as he wept, forehead bent to his brother’s.

So Wufan had a sense of humour, after all.

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