IV

“Jongdae,” Baekhyun mumbled, following the younger from a few feet behind. It was raining heavily, and they were soaked to their bones, nearly running through the city, trying to get home. There a storm accompanying the spectacle of rain, each clash in the sky like a crescendo of Jongdae’s steps, each lightning a reflection of the boy’s pace. Or so Baekhyun thought. He hated storms and it appeared that they were always accompanying Jongdae, wherever he would go. “Jondgae, would you like to talk about it?” the boy asked quietly, and as his friend’s fists tightened and his muscles visibly tensed a deafening in volume bang ranged in the sky.  The elder swallowed, nodding to himself, understanding the answer. He looked back, towards the direction that they were running away from, and as he observed the sky being ready to crumble down to earth and crush everything and everyone on its face, he could not stop himself from thinking about what they had experienced in that garage.

The laws of logic had been broken and Baekhyun felt conflicted. He did not understand, anymore, and yet, he still existed. He frowned, looking ahead of him at the enlarging distance between Jongdae and himself. The wind around them was ranging, as if trying to make them turn around and push them back towards that place; leaves on the ground were spinning in tornados above the pavement, the ones on the trees were barely holding on, his own clothes were being muffled and harassed by the cold force, and yet, it seemed as if none of it affected Jongdae. The younger moved forward, quickly and steadily, untouched by the forces of nature. Baekhyun looked around, anxious, worried and scared. Suddenly, in the accompaniment of the symphony that was the raging storm, a sickening feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. He looked around once more, hurriedly, as shivers ran down his whole body. His guts twisted as he felt watched. As there wasn’t anything in particular that he could spot, being left with nothing more than a blood freezing feeling, he picked up his pace and rushed after his friend.

At night, Baekhyun sneaked into the library again, wanting to search the book had been reading before. Yet, to his surprise, there was an empty spot in the place where he had placed it. It was nowhere to be found. He frowned, but upon looking at the clock, which 2am, he decided against questioning everyone in the household. Instead, he picked up a few other books, choosing to go a longer way, as long as it leads him to the destination. And the destination was a place with answers. So, he sat down in his armchair and started studying the texts, wishing he could ask Jongdae for help. But he knew that the younger lacked the patience with books.

“Baekhyun?” he heard his father’s voice, and when he looked up, there was a figure in the doorframe, “why are you up so late?”

“Oh,” he gasped, and smiled, “just doing some research for school,” he lied, mentioning at the books. His father rose an eyebrow.

“At two in the morning?” he asked, suspicious.

“I cannot sleep, because of the storm,” Baekhyun mumbled, looking back down at the text.

The storm that caught Jongdae and him earlier that day was still ranging on.

“And what are you, if I may ask, researching this time?” the man asked, walking up to his son and looking curiously at the pile of books.

“Oh, just some background check on Mesopotamian myths,” the boy explained, and then looked up at his father, who’s face seemed to have been painted with disappointment, “anyway, do you happen to know what happened to that big volume on the Ancient Civilizations of the Middle East? It doesn’t seem to be where it should be.”

“I haven’t used that book in twenty two years, Baekhyun. You guys must have replaced it,” he just declared, turning around and leaving for the door. He stopped at the exit and looked back at his son, “I don’t want you staying up this late, Baekhyun. You’d better leave these books and go to sleep,” he ordered and left. The boy only sighed, looking back at the old pages once again.

Jongdae woke up covered in sweat, for the fifth time that night. He looked around hastily, and upon realizing he was still, in fact, in his room, he took a moment to calm his breath and nerves down. The images of his nightmares started fading, leaving his head empty and his heart in fear. He swallowed hard and through his legs off the bed. The clockeshowed six in the morning. The boy sighed and left the bed, not even considering going back to sleep. He didn’t want to. As the reminisce of last days started coming back to him, from being kidnapped, to being bullied, to running away, Jongdae decided, for the sake of his sanity, that is was all part of his nightmares. It was just a nightmare.

As he was walking down the corridor to the kitchen, he passed the library, where he spotted Baekhyun napping in an armchair, an open book on his laps. He smiled to himself, shaking his head at the elder, and walked down the stairs. He was about to enter the kitchen, when he heard his mother’s voice.

“We should have told them,” he mumbled, “we should have just told them years ago, Siwon.”

“Don’t me stupid, Luna,” the man barked, “how would we even go about telling them their half gods!” he hissed, and Jongdae’s head spanned. He quickly leant against the wall, losing balance.

“I don’t know, Siwon, but it’s better than them sneaking around like this!” his mother raised her voice, “we’ve been lucky enough that nothing major has happened since that last time, and we both know it can happen again any time soon! They need to know who they are!”

“They’re our sons! Our sons!” his mother’s husband yelled. Jongdae heard a chair being dragged against the floor, then another, a few steps being taken, and then came a soft whisper, “but they are also sons of Zeus and Athena, Siwon. We cannot pretend it’s not true. And we need to make sure that they can protect themselves, darling. There is only so much we can do for them…”

“Baekhyun was researching the Mesopotamian myths, Luna… he found the story about the twelve elements… I don’t want him to get hurt, Luna...”

“We need to tell them, then, Siwon—”

The doors upstairs shut close with a loud bang, and the two stopped talking. Jongdae looked up the stairs and saw Baekhyun coming down. He swallowed, and slowly walked into the kitchen, trying to act as normal as possible.

“Good morning,” he mumbled, approaching the fridge. Baekhyun came to the room only moments after him.

“Good morning, everyone,” the elder smiled tiredly, sitting at the table beside his father.

“I told you to give up your research and go to sleep, Baekhyun. You’ll get sick,” Siwon said, frowning at his son.

“And I told you I couldn’t sleep because of the storm, dad,” he shrugged, looking up at Jongdae, “Dae, would you mind passing me some coffee, please?” Jongdae didn’t answer, but pouring an additional cup of black liquid, he passed it to his friend. “I’ll just go to sleep after lectures, dad, it’s not a big deal.”

“You need to work on your sleeping schedule, Baekhyun,” Jongdae’s mother spoke softly, “you’ve been staying up so late lately, studying, and both of you missed dinner yesterday. Where have you been all day? And please, don’t tell me you were in a library,” she groaned, putting a pile of pancakes on the table.

“I promise I will, ‘ma, I just need to finish this one project,” he smiled at the woman and quickly stack his fork into a few pancakes, “oh, heh, well, if you don’t wanna hear that we were in a library, then we won’t say that.”

“Where were you, then?” his father asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I had detention, Baekhyun waited for me, and then we ran into a couple of… old friends,” Jongdae quickly lied, as if it was the most natural and an actual true thing.

“I didn’t know they were giving detentions at university?” his mother rose an eyebrow, beyond surprised, and Jongdae only sighed, “you’re not alone, mother, I’ve lost faith in this system, to be honest,” he mumbled, drinking his black coffee.

“And who did you run into?” she pushed further, giving her husband a side glance.

“We need to get going, Jongdae,” Baekhyun suddenly interrupted, standing up, “remember that we need to meet with the professor to discuss the presentation,” he gave the younger a pointed look and the other only nodded.

“Yeah, thank you for breakfast, we’ll see you later,” Jongdae quickly put his cap down and without sparing anyone a second glance he ran into his room to grab his bag.

“Do you want to talk about yesterday, Jongdae?” Baekhyun asked as they were walking down the sidewalk. But the younger wasn’t listening, his eyes were scanning the surroundings, fingers nervously tagging at the pockets in his jeans, his steps uneasy. “Jongdae?” the elder asked once again, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Jongdae jumped slightly. “Are you alright?” Baekhyun frowned.

“I—I need to tell you something,” he whispered, looking around again, and then swallowed, “do you… feel like we’re being watched, by any chance?” he mumbled after a second, giving the elder a side glance. Baekhyun quickly looked around. They were standing on a crossroad in the center of the city. But even though there were hundreds of people around them, the boy knew it was not them sending chills down his spine. So, he looked back at Jongdae, and nodded slightly, to let the other know he felt the same unease. The younger tilted his head lightly in the direction of an underground, quickly following the crowd.

“Do you think it’s them?” Baekhyun mumbled, pressing his shoulder into Jongdae’s.

“Them, or the gods,” he quickly answered, not sparing his friend a single look, as he just pushed him into the first wagon that stopped next to them. Baekhyun gave him a terrified, yet confused look, but as it was the rush hour and the underground was packed with people, Jongdae only placed a finger against his own lips, signaling the other not to speak just yet. He then looked at a map above their heads, trying to figure out where exactly they were going. Only seconds later, lights started flickering inside the wagon, and Jongdae frowned. He didn’t want to do it, but his mind couldn’t stop his eyes from wondering towards Baekhyun. The elder kept on nervously looking around, breathing rather fast. “Calm down,” Jongdae mumbled through his teeth, “are you doing this?” He asked, lifting his eyes up to indicate the flickering lights.

“How the hell would I be doing it?” Baekhyun gritted, and then the wagon stopped in the middle of the tunnel, all lights going off. Baekhyun swallowed hard. “What is going on?”

Baekhyun hated closed, dark spaces.

“Calm down, Baekhyun, it’s alright,” Jongdae quickly reached down between them to grab his friend’s hand and squeeze it. Red emergency lights lit up above their heads and the wagon filled with groans and curses of other passengers. “Yah!” Someone suddenly exclaimed, and then another person and another one. Doors at the end of the wagon opened, and someone walked in, pushing through to get to the middle.

Jongdae’s and Baekhyun’s hearts started beating faster, adrenaline gathered and rushed through their veins. “I don’t like it, Jongdae. Something is wrong,” Baekhyun mumbled, looking around in panic, searching for a way to get out. He really hated closed, dark spaces. Jongdae felt panic rise inside of him, as well, so tightening his grip on the other’s hand he started pushing forward, in the opposite direction to the newcomer. People around them were cursing and yelling at them, but they thought little of it. All cells in their bodies were telling them to run, so they had to do the second-best thing—push through as fast as possible. Suddenly, Baekhyun felt a tight grip on his wrist and as he looked down, he saw black claws gripping into his skin, dark and dirty skin in great contrast to his fair one, even in the dim light of the emergency light. A yell threatened to escape his throat, but he bit down on his tongue and swallowed it, as one glimpse at people around him made him realize no one else must have seen it. He must have been imagining things.

“What the—” he heard Jongdae’s breathy voice coming to him as if from behind a wall, and in a blink of an eye he was standing on top of a building, his ears filled with the heavy noise of the city, and he was momentarily blinded by the sun hitting his eyes. “—,” came the end of Jongdae’s course, and as Baekhyun turned around he came face to face with Jongin.

“You need to be more careful, especially now,” the man spoke calmly, looking at both of the students. Jongdae bit his lower lip staring at the stranger hard. “You’re being hunted.”

“Stop saying that,” Baekhyun whispered, “it’s nothing. Nothing even happened down there—” Jongin looked down at Baekhyun’s wrist, “she touched you, didn’t she,” Jongin said, bringing his eyes to look into the other’s, “the Erynie.”

“E—Erynie?” Jongdae mumbled, surprised, and quickly looked at his friend, “what?”

“N—nothing,” Baekhyun replied, abashed. “Are you even listening to what he’s saying? Erynie, Jongdae?!”

“But you saw it, Baekhyun, didn’t you? You saw what caught your hand.”

Baekhyun took a breath in and then out, and looked towards Jongdae desperately. He wanted out. Out of whatever was happening. But when he looked at his friend, he was no longer sure the other wanted to same. Something has changed in him, in his eyes, and Baekhyun couldn’t put a name to it. “Jongdae,” he begged, “let’s go.” The younger nodded, never saying a thing, but also never taking a step. “Jongdae!” Baekhyun whined loudly, his stomach twisting. But the other just stared between him and Jongin, his eyes everchanging.

“You know something, don’t you?” Jongin asked, a spark appearing in his eyes. Jongdae swallowed loudly. “What do you know?” the stranger pushed. But Jongdae remained silent, overwhelmed with confusion. Jongin opened his mouth to say something, when a groan espaced Baekhyun’s lips as the eldest’s knees bent and he quickly grabbed his left hand. It felt as if it was on fire. When they looked down on the boy’s wrist it was burning bright red and there was an imprint of long claws on it. “They marked you,” Jongin whispered, “you’re not safe here,” he quickly looked around and as quickly as possible teleported all of them out of the roof.

When Jongdae blinked again, they were in a rather spacious apartment, very modern and clean, almost spotless, like a hospital. Everything was kept in neutral colors and the space felt… lifeless.

“Jongin?” the heard a somewhat familiar voice, “what are you— what have you done?!” someone squeaked, “hyung’s gonna be so mad!”

“Sehun!” Jongin yelled, and when ringing stopped in Jongdae’s ears, he managed to focus his eyes on the person on the other end of the room. It was the tall boy from the day before. “They’re in danger! Baekhyun was marked!” he hissed, holding Baekhyun’s hand up to show the red mark to the other boy. Sehun inhaled loudly and dropping his bowl on the nearest table he jogged towards them.

“How did it happen?!” the tall boy asked, his eyes wide.

“They found them,” Jongin mumbled, “what do we do?”

“We gotta get Yixing here. He’ll know what to do,” Sehun stood up and was about to grab his phone when Jongin stopped him.

“I’ll get him here faster, just tell me where he is now, I’ll get him,” he said and Sehun nodded. He told the other everything he knew and Jongin once again disappeared into thin air.

Suddenly, the room got overwhelming quiet, heavy awkwardness and reminisces of last night hanging heavily among the boys. Baekhyun fell to the ground, his legs giving up on him, and as he was panting heavily, he looked up at Jongdae with a pleading gaze. He needed help, and Jongdae knew that, but there was nothing he could do. He was paralyzed.

A second later Jongin reappeared in the room with three other men. “Baekhyun!” Chanyeol exclaimed and was about to approach the boy on the floor, ready to comfort him, when he was brutally stopped by a pull on his shoulder by the eldest of them. The two only exchanged glances, but the tall boy exhaled, and just as his shoulders dropped, he took a step back and let Yixing approach the boy.

“How are you feeling?” the men asked the boy on the floor, but Baekhyun didn’t reply. He opened his mouth a few times, but no words came out. “I can take care of it,” the black-haired man spoke softly, lightly touching Baekhyun’s hand, “if only you let me,” he smiled, but the boy only adverted his hand, bringing in close to his chest. His eyes were full of fear. “Baekhyun,” Yixing spoke again, and his voice was soothing and calming, “I can make the pain go away,” he said and extended his hand. Baekhyun looked up at Jongdae, conflicted, and the younger felt his stomach make its way up to his throat. He felt sick. “I promise, it will not hurt,” Yixing added, and as Baekhyun looked the elder in the eyes, he suddenly felt at peace. Calm. He nodded slightly and extended his hand for the other to take it. When the elder covered the burnt mark with his hand, they can all see a faint white light from underneath his fingers, and once he let go of Baekhyun’s hand, there was only a lightly pink mark left on his wrist. But it did not burn anymore. “I cannot completely get rid of it, but I can make the pain go away,” he smile softly and Baekhyun only nodded. When he looked up to look at Jongdae, he frowned. The younger looked like he was about to faint. Everyone else must have realized as well, as a second later there was Minseok standing next to the boy, holding him up.

“Are you alright?” he asked, and although there was still a part of Jongdae’s brain that wanted to make a snarky comment at the stranger that he was not in fact alright, he didn’t have enough strength in himself.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” he mumbled, and Minseok instantly wrapped his arm around the younger’s waist and led him to the bathroom. A moment later Jongdae was hugging the toilet, vomiting. Minseok was standing next to him, looking at the younger with pity and longing. He felt like he should do something, comfort the younger in any way, but he also felt like he had no right to do so. He felt really conflicted. When Jongdae was done and leant against the cold wall, panting, Minseok knelt next to him and extended a hand with a cold towel in hand. Jongdae looked at him confused, but the elder haven’t done anything, just kept his hand extended.

“You’re sweating. Cool yourself down a little,” he said in a calm voice and Jongdae swallowed hard. His stomach twisted when he saw the look on the other’s face—of long forgotten nostalgy; when the words hit his ears, when he looked at his extended hand and the towel at the palm of it. It all felt too familiar. Like it has already happened before. Long time ago. He accepted the towel with a shaking hand and wiped his face and neck with it. “Here,” Minseok spoke again, “there’s a toothbrush and some toothpaste by the sink,” he pointed towards a cupboard beside Jongdae, “you can brush your teeth and wash your face if you need.” Jongdae looked at him, and Minseok sighed, “don’t worry, it hasn’t been used before,” he cleared and left the bathroom.

“How is he?” Yixing asked, approaching Minseok the moment the eldest walked into the living room.

“Shaken, but he will be fine,” he replied, sighing. “How are you, Baekhyun?” he asked looking at the boy curled in a ball on the couch. He was just sitting there, tears running down his face. He was so confused, so lost, so in the dark.

“He hasn’t said anything, yet,” Yixing mumbled, “they must be shaken pretty badly.”

Minseok nodded, and then something shone in his eyes as he looked around the room, “Jongin!” he raised his voice and a moment later the young man was standing in front of him. He raised an eyebrow, even though he knew what the elder wanted to ask, “how did you… how were you…” he started, but the younger interrupted him.

“I was keeping an eye on them,” he whispered, “I hopped they would lead me to Kyungsoo, hyung,” he mumbled, and his eyes shone. He bit his lower lip nervously. Yixing’s features softened, and Minseok only nodded. “I just want to see him…”

“You will, Jongin,” Yixing spoke calmly, “we will find them… don’t worry.”

“How can you be so calm, Yixing?” Jongin asked, “what if they are in danger as well? What if Kyungsoo and Junmyeon are being hunted as well? And we don’t even know where they are! They don’t even know that they are in danger!” Jongin raised his voice, gaining everyone’s attention.

“Jongin, calm down,” Minseok said, but the younger paid him no attention.

“What if the same thing happened to Junmyeon?” Jongin asked, mentioning towards Baekhyun, “what if they are—”

“They’re not,” Yixing said harshly, his eyes getting darker, “nothing bad happened to them, Jongin. We would’ve known if the gods got to them first.”

“How can you be so sure?” Jongin whined and Yixing only furrowed his eyebrows. Truth be said, he could not be sure. He could only hope. “I thought so,” Jongin spat and disappeared.

“We’ll deal with him later,” Minseok mumbled, placing a hand on Yixing’s shoulder, “don’t think of his words. They are alright. They need to be,” he assured the other, looking at him with a steady gaze. Yixing nodded, but his heart was already filled with worry and doubt.