Whoever started meteorological science must have been a quack psychic who somehow made it so any future weather-man, -woman, or -person would also be a quack, because no one has predicted the weather accurately all week.

Chanyeol dear mother raised him to dress for the weather, so he's in comfy jeans and a T-shirt and his favorite ratty sneakers, fully--and foolishly--anticipating pleasant sun and spring breezes.

He should be wearing hip waders and a poncho. The entire Pacific seems to have been into the sky, creating dark, heavyset clouds that hunker over the city to take a massive whiz, kind of feel better and lighten up, but then just get water logged again. Flood warnings are out for nearly half the country.

So he's slogging home through the puddles that appear shallowest, trying to find the right angle to hold his convenience store umbrella, and decides to cut between two lines of buildings through their shared alley. It offers some shelter from the downpour, and the rain has washed away most of the usual stench of garbage.

"Please..." Chanyeol his head at the voice, wondering if he imagined it, but it speaks again, "Help me." He turns to his left,nearly dropping his umbrella.

A young man—maybe Chanyeol's age, although all he can tell is the guy appears young—shivers in the shallow doorway alcove of an old brick building. He looks dazed, eyes wide and unfocused. Blood paints his mouth and drips from his nose to his chin and shirt, staining it with tiny crimson buds that blossom when touched by rain.

"What happened?!" Maybe a fight or a mugging or a car accident or even something embarrassingly simple like running into a door or wall. Chanyeol doubts it matters, but he figures he should say something before grabbing the injured man, and he falters when he takes the man's full weight. Touching him seems to sap whatever strength was left that kept him standing.

The umbrella drops to the ground and collects what drizzle passes the high rooftops. Chanyeol tries to drag them both nearer the somewhat drier alcove.

"I'll...I'll call a cab. We'll go to the hospital, okay?" Chanyeol tries to prop him up along his side and fumbles for his phone. "Can you walk to the street?" He pushes weakly with his feet, but his knees buckles, and Chanyeol quickly catches him in an awkward hug. "Guess not. Sorry about this, then." He turns and takes the man's arms, pulling them over his shoulders like the safety bar on a roller coaster, bending forward to lift him off the ground and grab his thighs.

The stranger shifts weakly, looping his arms around Chanyeol's neck and shivering.

Chanyeol carefully waddles to his umbrella and crouches with his legs wide like a heavily pregnant woman, dumping the accumulated water and tucking it between his neck and the mans arm. "I'll just take you myself, okay? It's not far." He actually isn't sure where the hospital is, but he can ask whoever is braving the rain or step in a store. "What's your name? I'm Chanyeol."

"Baekhyun," the stranger mumbles.

"Sorry to meet under the circumstances." Chanyeol squints up at the sky, offering a silent curse to the thick clouds. "Do you know what happened?"

"Yeah." He's not very forthcoming, and it really isn't Chanyeol's business, so he doesn't press for answers.

He doesn't notice the lack of shivers until something sharp pierces the side of his neck. Pain follows, sudden and stabbing, buckling his knees. "What?" He stumbles, tries to walk, and falls against a dark lamp post. When he tries to touch his neck, his hand is swatted away.

Baekhyun slips from his back and draws an arm around Chanyeol's middle, much stronger than he looked as he holds Chanyeol up. His mouth seals over the twin punctures on the side of his throat.

The city blurs, softening the building and cars and lights to something hazy and dreamy, all color washing away and flowing down busy storm drains. Chanyeol's head feels fuzzy with static. He's alone; the rain and wet has scared every other living soul off the city streets and kept them safely indoors. He's deaf; not even the raindrops plinking into puddles and striking parked cars reaches his ears.

The only reason he's even partly upright is the uncannily strong grip on his shoulders. Puddles seep unnoticed into the knees of his jeans; his legs melt and fold to the pavement. Tingles tickle down his spine and out to his limbs, leaving his body on needles and pins.

Bright eyes swim into his field of vision, looking at Chanyeol with something akin to affection.

"You're very sweet. I thought I was going to starve." He drags a sleeve across his mouth and nose, smearing red in a hellish half-smile, and lets Chanyeol slouch to the pavement. Merrily spinning the umbrella so droplets cut out in a spray, Baekhyun leaves him.

The rain lightens to a drizzle. Chanyeol drowsily watches the sluggish clouds crawl across the sky. He's so tired; he should go home. He did his good deed for the day, but his body is just too heavy.

a/n: This was originally written and posted March 12, 2014. I assume it was just a sort of on-a-whim story, very short at not even 400 words.

It has been revised! September 11, 2023.