*Chapter 8;

Baekhyun had never seen so much white in his life. The white sheets, the bleached walls, the pale uniforms of medical staff rushing Chanyeol onto a stretcher, the white ambulance... He couldn't fathom how much scarier everything must be for Chanyeol who was watching everything unfold in the perspective of a child. "I need to be with him," he told the staff as they loaded Chanyeol into the back of the ambulance, "He's scared."

And so was he. Hastily, he climbed into the tight vehicle and clutched Chanyeol's pale hand between his own. All the neighbors had come out to watch, some murmuring that maybe Chanyeol had finally met his maker, or he had gone insane.

Baekhyun stared as the staff did everything they could to keep Chanyeol comfortable, first placing an oxygen mask over his mouth to open his lungs. He felt more helpless than the person on the stretcher, being without the power to do anything but watch his own stepbrother wither, all because of him.

"It's just the flu."

Baekhyun looked up at the doctor flashing him a warm, almost fatherly smile (he hadn't thought doctors were capable of such a kind gesture), then let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He pried his hands apart, belatedly realizing that he had been scraping the dead skin off of his cuticles out of nervousness. "So, is he okay?" he asked, not quite willing to let go of the weight on his shoulders.

"He'll be fine in a couple of days. We'll have him on bedrest for a day or two, then he should be good to go home." the doctor explained, "Home is the best place to be when you're sick, not in a hospital."

The two chuckled, although Baekhyun still looked troubled after thanking the other man. "Excuse me, sir..." he mumbled hesitantly, "Is there a possibility... that... maybe... Chanyeol will get better?"

"Better?" The doctor tucked the end of his stethoscope into his pocket where Baekhyun saw a sleek, black nametag engraved with the characters "Kim Joonmyeon". The doctor had a kind face and an even kinder voice that assured him Chanyeol was in good hands.

"My stepbrother's sort of... special." he said, "He was in an accident several years ago and he doesn't think like normal kids. I was wondering... if he tries really hard... is there a possibility that he can... be normal again?"

Joonmyeon ushered Baekhyun over to the line of seats against one side of the waiting room, then sat down with a sigh. "Mental illnesses and mental retardation are two entirely different things. Mental retardation is usually genetic, 90% of these cases... are lifelong conditions." He paused and glanced over at Baekhyun who had his gaze set on his lap as if he had just committed a crime. "Patients with mental illnesses, on the other hand, can be cured with counseling and therapy."

"We can't afford that, a psychologist, I mean..."

"Who said you needed a psychologist?" Joonmyeon chuckled, gently poking the center of Baekhyun's chest with two fingers, "The best type of therapy is the one that heals the heart." He raised his eyebrows slightly when the younger boy stared at him blankly. "Love," he emphasized, "I'll prescribe love; overdoses are fine."

With that lesson embedded in Baekhyun's heart, Joonmyeon excused himself from the waiting room and left Baekhyun to wonder if the doctor had answered his question

or given him another to solve on his own.

"Hey... how you doing?" Baekhyun quietly asked Chanyeol who was sitting up on his bed, still pale as ever but better than the last time he had seen him. He was relieved that it only turned out to be a fever and nothing drastic or fatal. He thought Chanyeol was having a seizure or some brief relapses, but it was only a bad case of the flu. Baekhyun took a seat on the edge of the stiff mattress and tugged on one end of Chanyeol's hair. "You should have told me if you were feeling sick."

He remembered how Chanyeol had been missing most of the school day, yet he hadn't bothered to ask about his whereabouts, to hear how he was doing.

"I was..." Chanyeol paused in mid-sentence, staring up at the ceiling and twitching his hand in front of him as if he was in deep thought. The words, obviously, weren't translating from his brain to his mouth fast enough. "I was in the restroom," he said after a while, eyebrows pushed together, "I didn't feel good... and then I tried to get out and... and the door was locked."

"The door was locked?"

Chanyeol nodded, completely oblivious. "I yelled help! Help!" he screamed, and Baekhyun had to hold his hands down and place a hand over his mouth so as not to startle the other patients. Chanyeol whispered, "Then the nice janitor came and let me out... the nice janitor... the nice janitor took the chair away."

"A chair?" Baekhyun sighed. Chanyeol hadn't locked himself in; some kids who thought hazing the new kid would be fun had propped a chair in front of his bathroom stall and left him there. The thought made him cringe in frustration, then in anger. No matter how much he wanted to yell at Chanyeol for being so stupidly stupid all the time, he had no heart to scold someone who was just so innocently oblivious to his own abuse. Then, this time, he was just angry at himself for lacking the confidence to stand up for Chanyeol because he at least owed him that favor.

"Look, Chanyeol, the doctor said you'll need to stay here for a day or two so you can get better," he coaxed him like he would reassure a crying child, "They'll feed you good food and..."

"Is Baekhyun going to stay... stay here?"

Baekhyun slowly shook his head. "I have soccer practice. I'll try to come back when it's over." he looked around him for something entertaining Chanyeol could play with. To his relief, he found a white notepad and a jar of pencils and pens next to a flower vase. If there was anything to keep Park Chanyeol preoccupied for the whole day, it was an open notebook. There was also a thin book (or pamphlet, he couldn't tell what it was at first glance) in one of the drawers, right under the Holy Bible. He spread it to a random page and slipped under the covers beside Chanyeol. "Here, let's write something."

He placed the book flat on the folding desk that could easily be adjusted in front of them, then curled his hand around Chanyeol's. Surprisingly, Chanyeol's hand was rough and callous to the touch, not quite so soft and small like he imagined it to be. He had to keep reminding himself that Chanyeol was his age, not seven years old.

Slowly, he guided the other boy's hand and the graphite that rested on the fresh page. "Byun... Baek... Hyun." he pronounced softly, crossing the last line and resting the side of his head gently on Chanyeol's bicep as he leaned against him.

"Byun... Baekhyun," Chanyeol read the words slowly off of the page.

"Good," Baekhyun praised him, tired from the day's events. "You're kind of good at reading, just not good at writing, huh?" He pointed to one of the open pages of the book, at a black and white picture of a boring landscape and a poem printed underneath it. "I'll read this to you." he said.

In the next world,

if you were to be reborn as a beautiful person,

I would like to be reborn as an angel.

Although I may be invisible,

and you'll go on loving someone else,

I would like to be reborn as an angel

to protect you.

Chanyeol's voice took over the second stanza, his deep, bass tone catching Baekhyun by surprise as the other boy tried so hard to read the words he couldn't understand very well.

In... the next w-world,

if you... you were to be re... reborn as a beautiful bird,

I... would like to be reborn... as a magnificent tree.

Although I would... have to wait for you

in one... place,

I would like... to be reborn as a... tree,

where you... may rest... when your w-wings are... weary.

"Good," Baekhyun smiled softly, studying the way Chanyeol's lips quivered and eyes blinked rapidly as if he had no idea what he had just read. He probably didn't. The poem spoke of feelings and sentiments even Baekhyun found mysterious and puzzling.

Chanyeol didn't put the book down for a long time.

"I'm bringin' y Baek!" Jongin called obnoxiously, hooking an arm around Baekhyun's shoulders as if he hadn't seen him in years. They were hip-to-hip on the soccer field, sweating so much that Baekhyun felt Jongin's perspiration seep into his own clothing.

Baekhyun had been purposely avoiding all of his teammates the following morning during practice. He just couldn't look them in the eye without turning away in mild disgust because it was possible any of them could have trapped Chanyeol in the restroom as if it didn't matter that Chanyeol was related to him. Who was he kidding? He couldn't blame them, especially since they had no one reminding them that what they were doing was considered harrassment and bullying.

"You didn't lock Chanyeol in the bathroom yesterday, did you?" he muttered under his breath as the two walked towards the center field.

"What?"

"Nothing."

The season's match was just a week away, and strangely, Baekhyun didn't feel like running.

Author's Note: Wow, it's already the eighth chapter? Time goes by fast when you're updating like crazy! Haha, this chapter took a lot of proof-reading and revising because I had to do some research... not that I didn't do my fair share of research before, but you get the point! Thank you again to all the people that are commenting and leaving feedback! ^^ It's so nice to know someone's following your story and relating to the characters, because writing about a disabled Chanyeol was a huge step for me, too.