AHM BACK

This may not be as good because I haven't written in forever, but here it is anyways.

At Highmont Penitentiary, a hallway light shattered and woke up a security guard napping by the block entrance. Its thin glass landed on the floor at the guard's feet, tinkling like windchime bars.

The guard glanced up at the light. It sparked once, little fireworks drifting down to the concrete. The other lightbulbs lining the hall flickered ominously. 

It was just past two in the morning, and the silence in the cell block was as thick as the crappy one-dollar honey on the dining room tables. The only real sound was the guard standing up and moving the glass into a corner, a high, thin, scraping noise reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard.

Suddenly, something creaked behind the security guard, and he whirled around, boot crushing a piece of glass into powder. Nothing had moved, but the darkness seemed to gather like mist. One of the guards' hands went to the gun at his hip.

Someone whispered something from inside the cell block, and the guard leaned in to hear.

A hand shot out from the shadows, smashing the guard's head into the wall. He slid down, dazed, hands fumbling for his gun.

Duct tape was slapped over his mouth, and a foot kicked his hand away from his halter. The gun slid a few inches away before the same hand snatched it away.

A zip tie hissed as it closed around his wrist and the doorknob of a nearby door. The guard tried to scream through the duct tape, and he was rewarded with a heavy foot in his side.

Finally, all the lights went out for good, and the sound of the guard's muffled cries covered up that of the footsteps headed out.

When Baekhyun woke up, he was trapped in a cocoon.

The world's thickest blanket was wrapped tight around him, its ends tucked into itself and pulled taut. He tried to pull his arms free, only managing to wriggle out his shoulders. Not that that mattered; the air outside the blanket was freezing cold.

It took a moment for him to realize he was back at Chanyeol's place, lying on the couch with the usual sea of fluffy pillows surrounding him.

The whole apartment was uncharacteristically quiet, not even the usual TV news station being on. A single lamp was on, the rest of the apartment as dark as the evening that the curtains were drawn on. Chanyeol was nowhere to be seen.

The last thing Baekhyun remembered was something bright and red floating in front of him, and then he was falling--

Baekhyun thrashed hard, and he pulled himself free from the suffocating blanket. His jacket was folded neatly on the coffee table, and he tore through the pockets for his phone.

A thousand different notifications covered the screen, and Baekhyun skimmed through them all.

r u okay? from Sehun.

Yo dude you alrihgt from Jongdae.

A few messages from teachers, one of them being the assistant principal offering to take over for a while.

Nothing from Chanyeol.

Baekhyun threw his phone back onto the coffee table and got to his feet.

There was a bag of honey-roasted peanuts out on the kitchen counter, some of the nuts inside spilling out, like the whole thing had been dropped there with the top open. A few had fallen to the floor, too. Chanyeol never dropped food on the floor. He wasn't neat, but fallen food was his biggest pet peeve.

Was he rushing somewhere?

Baekhyun moved towards the door, but it was thrown open before he even touched it.

Chanyeol backed in, arguing with someone on the phone and three plastic bags hanging from his forearm, strained almost to breaking.

"I know what to do, just trust me," he snapped, headed straight for the kitchen, not having noticed Baekhyun standing a few feet away. "For heaven's sake, I'm not a serial killer--"

"Chan?"

The taller man flinched, nearly dropping his phone. One of the plastic bags promptly broke, contents hitting the ground with a single loud thump. "F --oh, you're awake." He said something fast into the phone before dropping it onto the counter and bending down out of sight to pick up the fallen things. "Thank G-d."

"Where were you?"

"I ran out to get food." Chanyeol, still out of view, threw a monstrous box of strawberries onto the counter, knocking a few more peanuts onto the ground. "Ah, s ."

"You didn't tell me."

"You were knocked out on the couch, to be fair." Chanyeol slapped down a bag of cold cuts, smug. "But I did grocery shopping all by myself."

"Good for you." Baekhyun folded his arms. "Why's it so cold?"

"I turned it off." Chanyeol hit a switch, and the apartment was flooded with light. "I gave you a big blanket, and I didn't want it to get hot."

Baekhyun leaned onto the counter. "I got a little worried."

Chanyeol grinned and pinched one of Baekhyun's cheeks. "Aw, was little Baekhyunnie worried about me?"

"Don't let it get to your head," Baekhyun retorted, smiling and tilting his head away.

"You have no idea how much you scared me, though," Chanyeol said, suddenly serious. "When Sehun called me and said you were passed out at the hospital--" He shook himself. "I was eating those when he called. I knocked them over by accident." Chanyeol pointed at the open bag of peanuts lying on its side. "They almost wouldn't let me take you back, either. The hospital wanted to keep you overnight."

Baekhyun opened his mouth, considered telling Chanyeol about the eyes, then closed it. No point in making him worry more.

Chanyeol didn't notice. He puttered around the kitchen, putting things away. "I can take you out for dinner, if you want. It's only five, plenty of time to find a nice place. I didn't get any rice. I should have." He turned around, a confused look in his eyes. "You're quiet today."

"You're just chatty. More than usual."

"Am not." Chanyeol crossed into the living room, hands outstretched. "Can I have a hug?"

Baekhyun obliged, arms wrapping around Chanyeol's waist. He pressed his cheek into the front of the taller man's coat. "This is new. You never ask."

Chanyeol swayed on his feet. "I'm spicing things up."

Baekhyun closed his eyes, letting Chanyeol rock him from side to side. "I was going to say something, but I'll tell you later." He pushed a picture of the red eyes away, squeezing his eyes tighter.

Chanyeol kissed the top of Baekhyun's head. "Sure thing."

And for a moment, the apartment was warm.

Yixing found himself in alleys a lot, by thugs and reporters and drunk people. That was what happened when you were a journalist looking for something, anything, to write. No matter how many times it happened, though, Yixing felt his heart pound in his ears. Alleys were, according to Yifan, dead spaces. Anything could happen.

Anything really could.

On his way home from the hospital, a man grabbed Yixing's arm and pulled him into a tiny back alley behind a dumpster. In one movement, Yixing threw off the hand and pushed it away. 

"What the f do you--" he started, then froze.

The man in front of him had a hat pulled low over his face and a facemask over his mouth and nose, but it only took half a heartbeat for Yixing to recognize the slightly shorter person, his thin but strong frame, the slope of his nose under the white fabric.

There was a moment of silence before anyone spoke.

"Luhan?"