Euthymia

Someone Else's T-Shirt

Chanyeol can't decide what's heavier – the silence or the stench of blood. Both weigh on the air, filling up the car with a stifling mildew that's difficult to inhale. Chanyeol knows Baekhyun hasn't taken many breaths since leaving the beach house and there's a reason the silence is so full of tension. Chanyeol grips the steering wheel, dripping with someone else's blood, and hasn't said a word on the matter. His priority is getting into town and finding a safe place to bunker down for the night. Perhaps his priority should be calming Baekhyun down first because the rubbing alcohol cutting into the scent of blood grows more suffocating with every passing second.

"Where's Sehun?"

It's about time he asks. Chanyeol's been dreading the question since the moment he threw himself into the car. He thought Baekhyun would bombard him with questions immediately, but he took his time, let the adrenaline burn off, and braced himself for the answers.

"They had us surrounded. Things got ugly-"

"Is he dead?" Baekhyun can't mask the trembling in his voice, the tears in his eyes, the sickly white complexion of his face. He's like a dead leaf getting battered by the wind with the way he curls up in his seat and shakes profusely. Feverish pink burns his cheeks. Sweat glistens on his forehead. He looks like he's about to turn green.

"I don't know."

Chanyeol answers honestly. He would've gotten Sehun out of there. Nevermind their bad blood. He didn't let that stop him from trying. But so many alphas coming at him at once, Winter's sword swinging wildly at their heads, gunshots going off. He got his hands on the dagger, Sehun dropping it in the scuffle, and made his escape. Baekhyun or Sehun; those were his options. Stay behind and rescue Sehun, or leave when he had the chance to get Baekhyun away from the house safely. He had a job to do. He made the right choice.

"You don't know?" Baekhyun squirms, unable to sit still, breathing heavily and sweating harder. The undertones of sugar bleeding through the lilies and the rubbing alcohol fight to take over the other scents. His pheromones are out of control. He's close to blacking out.

"I had to get out of there. I had to come find you. There wasn't any time-"

"You left him?" Baekhyun shoots up, and only now does Chanyeol realize neither of them are wearing seatbelts. "You left him back there with a bunch of Itaewon gangsters to die?"

"I did what I could, but you're my first priority."

"What if he wasn't able to get out? What if he...?" Baekhyun falls back, slumped against the window, his face a brighter red and skin a paler white. By now his pheromones are so strong, Chanyeol rolls down the windows.

"We'll contact your father and let him know what happened. He'll find Sehun and handle the Itaewon pack. Don't worry about it."

"Don't worry? My fiance might be dead for fuck's sake. How am I not supposed to worry?" He furiously wipes the tears from his face, leaving rashes under his eyes. "I wanna go home."

"You can't go home right now. It's not safe."

"I don't care. Just take me back to Gangnam, please. I wanna see my dad again. I can't stand it here anymore." He leans his head towards the window, trying to take in more fresh air because his lungs don't seem to be working properly anymore.

Chanyeol's never seen him panic like this. Like a nervous puppy scampering around the car on its very first drive, whining and crying and scratching to get out. He's hyperventilating, red and hot, never able to find a comfortable position in his seat. Chanyeol reaches over to press a hand against his bruised forehead. Scorching. He must have a fever.