A/N: For those who don't know my glasses broke - however I found my second pair (Sam can be resourceful when she wants). Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chap. Thanks for the subscribes and comments <3

*

There was discomfort, anxiety and anger. He was...somewhere familiar. He could hear yelling, disagreements. He knew that voice. It was his father. Light flickered across his closed eyes, he wanted to see but he couldn't yet. All he could focus on were the voices. “How can your brother rule with such a vulgar younger brother gallivanting off into the towns? Do you know how unsafe it is for you? You take no pride in your studies and you stress your personal guards most of all. You are supposed to support your brother!”

“My son, you must be careful. There are dark beings out there which would harm you.” His mother warned him, albeit more sympathetic than caring. Was he imposing his present thoughts and feelings on his memories? Did she always sound that way? “If they acquired you, what would your father and I do?” It was so robotic, so nonchalant. He was offspring, a way to carry on the lineage, nothing more.

“I suppose death would be much better. You are the ones that have problems with those so-called ‘dark beings’, mother.” He snapped. “If you only tried to get to know them, you would know they’re more than just their bad stories. They’re amazing-

“I’ll hear none of it. From this day onwards, you are to be confined to the palace. No son of mine will be fraternising with our enemy. Lock him up.”

Finally, he opened his eyes. The throne room flared across his vision with its grandeur. His parents were seated together, both varied in their reactions. His mother remained stoic and unmoving. He recognised the twitch of her upper lip, she was angry. For what he knew not. His father was purple and red in the face with rage and disappointment. Nichkhun didn't know what hurt more, the utter, unbearable loneliness of realising his family cared only for their reputation and money, or that they were angry he was curious about the world and its relations. Guess it was just the way it was being the son of a Hunter King. Making friends with the enemy...nothing but treason. He was being dragged away. As he walked with the guard down the halls, he turned to the western-facing windows.

The sun was setting, beautiful colours painted across the sky. Nichkhun remembered this day very clearly. His father had had enough of his wanderings, his want to live a different life, his interest in developing positive relations with immortals. He tried to lock him up, keep him restrained to the palace walls. Opening his eyes, the walls of the west wing greeted his vision. Then he broke away from them and broke his binding. He was running. He let go of his present self and indulged in the memory. After all, it was one of his favourites. Multiple footsteps pounded against the floor, the heavy clinking of armour accompanied the sound. The Prince looked back briefly and grinned. He pivoted effortlessly and ran down a hallway. “Your highness!” One called, but he did not decelerate. Stepping onto a balcony, he leapt off and landed gracefully into the grass below. The impact was not as severe as he thought it would be and he found himself gaining speed. Racing through the palace courtyard he passed into the horse keeping stables and through the commoner’s door. He needed to get away. He would not be chained!

“Prince Nichkhun has escaped the palace walls!” He heard above him and couldn’t help but grin. Passing through a small market he snagged some cloaks and slipped into them as he went. When he was young, he had always dreamed of making it past the walls. It was if the very air itself was as free as he felt running through the people of the kingdom. He took in as much as he could – knowing he would never get another chance if they caught him. He calmed his pace when he deemed himself a reasonable distance from the palace. The people were so very interesting and kind, some even smiled as he inquired as to their business. He attended their festivities, both for the public and the underground. Hearing heavy footfalls, he glanced back and noticed the Hunter Guard hot on his trail. He counted seven in total and once again grinned.

A man with a vegetable shop indicated to a narrow alley. Nichkhun glanced at him briefly, a shimmer of black dust sparked about him. He hid in the entranceway of the alley and watched the men go past. “Even a disguise doesn’t really help me...” He said and took off into the alleyway. A small ringing sound caught in his ear and he halted just as a sword came down in front of him. He couldn’t help but laugh as he flipped back. Several more men were around him, he realised immediately they were not the Hunter Guards. He glanced around and noted two possible escape routes. He grinned as he jumped up and caught a wooden beam. Rolling over onto the roof of a house, he laughed as he dodged nets.

“Lord!” He spun immediately to the voice. “You must return to the castle!” They demanded but Nichkhun could care less. There was no part of him that wanted to return, to be caged, to be shut off from everything. He jumped across the alley and slid into another. A cool wind brushed over his body despite the dense amount of clothes. A strange feeling seeped into his bones and he turned quickly. He didn't sense anything near him, not a single person moved, no evidence of any auras either. His eyes narrowed and he faced the other direction to find a man leaning against a house. Standing his ground, he rested his hand on a concealed dagger.

“While I have not been long in this town I have to say that was a very fascinating and quite exhilarating display of agility.” The mysterious one chuckled.

“Who are you?”

“No one special,” the man said, his different coloured eyes glinted in the small amount of light.

Nichkhun snorted in disagreement. “Were those men in the opposite alley yours by any chance?” He moved up against a wall as they flew over to the next roof. They were followed immediately by the Hunter Guard. Making sure there were no others, he turned back only to gasp and jerked away from the man.

“I was wondering if you knew fear...” He whispered amused.

“You startled me is all!” He scoffed. “Again I inquire for your name?” Nichkhun could barely make out his facial features. He was a slender man that much he was sure of, and his eyes glowed, almost like amber.

“Someone who has been looking for you for a long time,” he answered, as if relieved.

Nichkhun tensed as a cool finger trailed down his cheek. He couldn’t help but shiver. Gripping his wrist, he pulled him close, and pressed the dagger against his throat. “Do not touch me...” He hissed in his face, although it wasn’t as fierce as he hoped.

“You truly surprise me, Nichkhun Horvejkul.” The man’s breath ghosted over his lips.

Something about him was drawing him in. How did he know his name? Had he been waiting here for him? Nichkhun gazed into those eyes, trying to discover why he had such a strong pull towards him.

“You’re not safe here. You’d best do as your guards say and remain in your castle...”

“What are you?” Nichkhun murmured. The chill he had been experiencing was receding and his body was warming a little too pleasantly.

The man laughed, “only a wanderer, my dear prince.”

Nichkhun had to get away, even if he felt it was safe. The man’s mysterious words were weighing on his conscience. “A wanderer who seemed to know I was coming this way...”

He felt the smile more than he saw it. “I have no intentions of leading you astray...well, to your parents I would be. I only intend to give you a different life, if you so choose. Would you be interested in coming with me?”

Nichkhun pressed him back into the wall and hissed, “are you mad?”

The man again laughed, “I assure you, dear prince, sanity evades me frequently. However, for you, I am most certainly sound of mind.”

Nichkhun was struggling to let go. “What do you mean by give me a better life? How would you know if my life was terrible? You do not know me!” He was scared. He knew he was revealing things by spewing those ridiculous questions and shouting. He probably gave himself up to the Hunter Guard, or maybe even the bandits.

“You are running from your guard, chased by bandits, and have run into a stranger who knows a little too much. The question is,” he came forward, his fingers smoothing down his neck, “why oh why would a prince be running from a castle, from luxury, riches and power?” He practically sang that question. Those warm hands gripped his wrists and a glimpse of his face shone in the fading sunlight. Nichkhun almost staggered back but those strong hands kept him. So gently, the man whispered forbidden words into his ear, “I believe someone as beautiful as you deserves a bit of freedom.”

Nichkhun’s eyes widened. Before he could react his senses went on high alert as the Hunter Guard dropped in around them. “Your highness, we ask you to come along with us calmly.”

Nichkhun turned back to find himself staring at a black wall. The chill had returned to his fingers and he dropped to his knees. Why did he feel so empty all of a sudden? Why did he want to see him again? It felt like...that small glimpse of freedom vanished from his reach.

“Master, have you been hurt?”

Before he could answer the question a pain flared at the base of his neck and he lost consciousness.

*

Nichkhun didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him. He was feeling a dull pain in his shoulder. The cold presence was gone. He wanted to see that sunshine, to see Wooyoung grinning at him – he wanted to go back to the good days when he didn’t feel like this. Then he felt a tingle of bliss and all his pain seemed to banish from his body. Slowly shifting, he felt himself regaining consciousness. Opening his eyes, he reached up and held his head. For some reason it was throbbing unbearably now.

“...” He muttered and then he looked around to find Chansung with him. “C-Chansung, what’re you doing here?” He asked weakly. Then he realised it was only them in the room and a cold sweat broke out over his skin. This couldn’t be happening right now. He couldn’t be alone with him, it hurt too much.

Chansung shrugged and sat closer to him. “Watching over you...” He answered after a while.

There was no way the tall vampire would have done that by his own will. Wooyoung had to be behind this. “Did he make you do it?” He grumbled. Damn Wooyoung. Although, oddly enough he couldn’t feel his master’s aura as strongly. He reached out to it and Wooyoung answered in kind.

It’s so good to feel your energy, Nichkhun.

His headache lessened immediately and he relaxed a little. I really...need you with me right now. He was close to having a panic attack.

“What makes you think this isn’t my choice?” Chansung asked him.

Nichkhun fell quiet and closed his eyes. It wasn’t possible. “No...Chansung.” He didn’t really know what he was saying no to. No to actually having Chansung near him by his own choice or no he couldn’t handle it. Why wasn't Wooyoung replying to him.

“And...why not?” Chansung wondered quietly. His voice was so soothing to his mind.

“All these years you said I’ve been hurting you – don’t think it’ll be this easy.” He didn’t mean to sound so angry, so bitter. But, he just couldn’t believe it, not after everything they had gone through. Yes, Chansung’s aura had become less anger towards him over the past few decades, yes he actually began to talk to him, but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t even visit Wooyoung, the one person he cared more for than anyone because of his guilt. This hurt.

“You know it won’t. I’m still hesitant myself...”

Hearing that was like a punch in the stomach. Chansung was being close to him but still reserved, that didn’t make for a healthy start at all!

“Then why..?” He knew he wasn’t supposed to, he wasn’t ever going to let himself cry in front of this person, this mistake, but he couldn’t stop it. “You want me to hurt all over again?” He asked brokenly. He couldn’t handle this. Please Wooyoung, please I need you.

You need to get it out. Get it out first, tell him.

Nichkhun expected that response, but he didn’t want to hear it. Then Chansung’s fingers were trailing along his cheek, brushing away his tears, with an expression of both concern and regret. “I don’t want to hurt you...” He said. “I’ve been realising things...and I’ve just been scared. It’s because of our history that I’m apprehensive.”

A rage built up inside him, he knew well enough, but he had also resigned himself to know that whatever he and Chansung could have had would never come to fruition. They were a mistake, and he and Wooyoung still did not know how or why it happened.

“And...what makes you think I would want a connection with you after all these years, hm?” It hurt. It physically and emotionally hurt to say those words, but he had to.

Chansung smiled sadly at him, and his eyes darkened a little. “I don’t know. But...” Chansung tried to elevate his mood. “I know that I could finish the one we started, or we could try and make a new one...” His voice was so light and airy, so good and soothing.

Nichkhun relaxed and let those options invade his mind, he smothered himself in them. “I’m dead right?” He asked suddenly. He knew he was, really.

Chansung chuckled and it was the most wonderful thing he had ever heard. “Yes...”

“Wait...” This no longer felt real. “This is a dream...”

“You still dream?” Chansung had pulled up his left leg and rested his chin on his knee. He seemed so different, so open, so unlike the boy he attacked those many decades ago.

“Are you really Chansung?” He couldn’t help feeling sceptical.

Chansung was smiling again, “who knows...”

Nichkhun felt it suddenly, the chill, the pain, everything. “This hurts...” He couldn’t put a name to it. Surprisingly, Chansung came closer, and his fingers ran down his neck, and those warm, soft lips pressed against his. It wasn’t fair. He wanted to push him back, but he also wanted him to keep going. The utter bliss he felt, those feelings he had longed for, for forever, were coursing through his entire body, filling him with a passion he had only dreamed of. Yes, he dreamed. One day he would tell Chansung that, perhaps. He reached up and cupped the back of Chansung’s neck. “Please...please don’t do this to me...” He couldn’t handle this at all. It was Chansung’s next words that staked him, right in the heart.

“If you’ll have me, I really want to stay with you.” He whispered, as if he was to scared to tell him his deepest want.

Nichkhun soaked it up. He had to, he might change his mind and do a complete 180. He had done it before, who’s to say he wouldn’t do it again. “You can’t take this back...”

Chansung laughed, and Nichkhun basked in that too. “I don’t think I could if I wanted to.”

“It can’t be this easy...” Nichkhun murmured. “Nothing with you ever is..”

“Oh...just means something else will happen.”

The chill was stronger now, and he tried to sit up.

Wooyoung...

*He can’t hear you anymore.*

He tensed immediately. It was her again. He noticed a figure outside the window and felt dread. Chansung had risen and moved towards the window. “No, call someone else, Chansung...”

“We’re protected. Junho has wards up...” Chansung sat himself on the windowsill and looked out.

Then he heard it, a low hiss.

*That was such a wonderful display of feelings, Nichkhun Horvejkul.*

“You heard that...right?” Chansung was looking around.

Nichkhun nodded.

*When you wake, Nichkhun Horvejkul. You’ll wish you’d never woken.*

Chansung moved to say something, but a cloud of black dust swirled around him, and Nichkhun could only watch helplessly as he disappeared. In his place was her, the woman who had hit him with the dagger. She came forward and gripped his throat. That grin was back on her face and she brought him close to her.

“W-Who are you?”

“Do you remember what you did to Chansung and his brother?” She asked.

Whatever blood he had left drained from his face and she laughed manically.

“Of course you do. But, perhaps I should be kind and remind you.”

“Please don’t-

“He was just an innocent stable boy, he and his brother. You tore his whole family to shreds. Guess it's to be expected since an abomination like Jang Wooyoung can only create other fiendish monsters.”

“Shut up!” He cried.

“Did it feel good, sinking your fangs into him?” Nichkhun cried out in pain as she forced him into the wall. “Let’s go back in time.”

“No!”