Baekhyun stared ahead with a small fire of determination still burning in his eyes. The rival troops had already retreated but only for the time being, he presumed. His eyes darted to one of his men who was carried by two others into their campsite, his head lolled back showing and thoroughly unconscious. Sighing in contempt to himself, Baekhyun pinched the bridge of his nose at how weak he was; being unable to protect the team when he was given the responsibility.

He gritted his teeth as he forced himself to look around their bivouac. It was completely ruined, with pieces of the earth cracked and completely dried. The situation portrayed one of which had experienced an earthquake and Baekhyun doubted that it would be the best place to continue to seek safety. His eyes averted to the burnt patches of what was left of the grass, and brought his attention to his men. Half of him was relieved that everyone managed to survive the attacks despite being numerously outnumbered. But half of him felt regretful, pained, that his men had to go through so much. More than three-quarter of them were injured and unconscious, all being laid down and having their wounds treated.

Medics were rushing around with shots to numb the pain, and the rest of the Resistance who suffered minor injuries went around cleaning their members’ gashed arms and legs, pressing a cloth to stop the bleeding and applying proper bandaging to stop the wound from reopening.

“Argh!"

Baekhyun groaned in pain when his teammate squeezed his upper-arm, tainting his palm with more crimson liquid.

The former pried his arm away and faced his friend.

He’s golden locks were still in good condition, and Baekhyun could only wonder if he really did fight China’s troops. If he weren’t by his side all the while Baekhyun was running up front, he wouldn’t have known. Grabbing onto his wound to stop the bleeding, Baekhyun noticed the hidden worry behind the strong gaze the other had on him. His hands were dirtied with dried blood, not of his own, but of Baekhyun’s and the rest of the team.

He examined him further and only realised that he had a few tears on his clothes, and minor cuts on his legs but other than that— the man has proven to be a great dodger and one of the most resilient members of the Resistance.

“Are you done blaming yourself.”

Baekhyun snapped out of his train of thoughts, meeting the man’s eyes and on his bottom lip. “Get your wounds treated, Chanyeol.” He told through gritted teeth. “As minor as it is, we don’t want them to worsen tomorrow when— ow!”

The man, Chanyeol, curled his fingers around the smaller man’s arm; just an inch above the bullet lesion. His fierce orbs pinned on Baekhyun’s chocolate ones, making the latter almost cower under his touch if not for his status.

“What do you think you’re—”

“Are you really going to act all high and mighty and not admit that you’re dying to be treated?” Chanyeol growled, pulling the other along with him as he neared the medic who had just finished cleaning up another member’s injury.

Settling him down slowly, Chanyeol informed the medic about what happened and watched as he got to work, getting ready to clean and patch up the mess.

“W- wait.” Baekhyun chimed, palming the medic’s hand wrist and looking away; gulping harshly as he felt Chanyeol’s hard stare on him. Beads of perspiration already made a home on his forehead, but Baekhyun could care less about how he looked physically. “Please don’t look.”

The medic turned to Chanyeol and wore an empathetic expression on his face, to which the former understood fully. But instead of abiding, he jerked his chin to the left in return.

“You leave.”

The medic’s eyes bulged in surprise, and Baekhyun copied his expression. This wasn’t what he requested; it was the opposite of what he meant.

“I know how to take it out,” he told with a straight face, snatching the tweezer from the man’s hand. “I’ll do it.”

.

.

.

.

.

Chanyeol has seen this before, countless times and each time; it angered him more and more. Baekhyun has never placed himself before others, and he would always feel that he would need to be more responsible than any other Resistance member just because Boa was his mother. And that Boa was the one who created the serum together with Kris.

No matter how many times Kai managed to convince Baekhyun that his mother’s mistakes weren’t his, Chanyeol’s aware that the younger was always keener to bring the fault upon himself whenever they got into combat that related back to sickness.

And every time he gets hit or obtained more fatal injuries than most, Baekhyun would always allow himself to get treated the last. But that rarely happens when he works alongside Kai; the tanned man would never let injuries linger longer on his friend than it should. Chanyeol has always been on the side-lines, watching how Baekhyun would hide and shy away from everyone except Kai whenever he needed to get his wounds treated.

Only after a few times did Chanyeol realise that Baekhyun didn’t want anyone to see him as someone weak. And after mustering up the courage to talk to Kai about it, the latter then further elaborated that Baekhyun feels he shouldn’t be allowed to feel pain at all. That he didn’t deserve to show any signs of being in agony even if he was on the brink of death.

That— was how much guilt Baekhyun had held on his shoulders.

“I- I’ll do it myself…” Baekhyun his lips, aware that there were evident tears stinging the corner of his eyes. As much as he knew he shouldn’t show signs of pain, he’s human after all. And if Chanyeol would only—

“No.”

The former sighed in defeat, as always; Chanyeol was stubborn. Letting his wound be treated, Baekhyun sank his teeth on his bottom lip as he held in a scream when Chanyeol slowly dug into his wound to pull the bullet out. Even when he was injected with the numbing solution, the agonising and ripping feeling was still evident though faint.

Muffling another cry with his free hand, Baekhyun blinked away the tears and ferociously wiped at his face as if to stop the tears from falling.

“Stop it.” Chanyeol growled under his breath. “Stop preventing yourself from screaming.”

Baekhyun didn’t meet his eyes and breathed out heavily. He gasped in surprise when Chanyeol tore the fabric to bandage the patched-up cut. He stood up and took Baekhyun’s chin in between his forefinger and thumb, tilting it upwards. Letting their eyes linger on each other, he proceeded to pull the boy up by his other arm and surprised him with an embrace.

“Chan— Chanyeol.” Baekhyun stuttered, eyes watering when he felt Chanyeol’s hands tighten around his back, another palm cupping the back of his head.

“Please stop torturing yourself Baekhyun,” he sighed into his hair. “Nobody here ever blamed you— sure they did when they were younger but, we’ve seen how you hold it in every time. We know you’re the one hurting the most and we regret ever pinning those dislike and contempt towards you.”

Baekhyun swallowed on a choked sob and let out a shaky breath. “I’m fine—”

“No, you’re not.” Chanyeol rasped. “You’re not, and it’s okay. You’re not alone in this Byun Baekhyun. So, would you please stop hurting yourself. Because as much as we seem unbothered, It’s killing us inside knowing that you’re blaming yourself.”

Washed wi