Archive of Our Own ^beta

Act I: The Deluge

Lu Guang rereads the same sentence for a third time in the last five minutes; still not entirely processing the words. Even reading this story countless times before, focus is fleeting. Lines of ink blur indecipherably in his vision once more, unable to grasp the meaning, he wonders if it’s time to retrieve his concentration glasses from upstairs, or if the effort would be futile against the pressure building behind his eyes.

Despite the headache already taken root, he is still determined to enjoy his favorite collection of sci-fi short stories. Too many things have happened in the past months, leaving little time for genuine relaxation. Between their disastrous, inexplicable last case, impromptu stay in the hospital, and a timeline he no longer bears the knowledge for, that only increases his gnawing anxiety, who is to say when he’d be able to indulge in a book again?

Rereading the sentence a fourth time, the words of philosophical concepts born in the 19th century finally come through. The character, Professor Van Stopp, asks, 'How does he know he's anything more than a dream of the future?' and 'Does he believe his wretched little individuality has a firm foothold in the absolute?'

Lu Guang doesn't know, nor can he claim a foothold in any absolute existence.

The scene around him certainly feels like a dream, and he, a willing denizen of said dream, of some future that he can only hope to achieve.

Raindrops hit the sunroom glass like a symphony of notes that might one day be transcribed onto music sheets in a distant future of said dream. Water streams created by the storm smear the outside world around them into a watercolor landscape; those muted colors bleed into each other and nearly become indistinguishable. The distant rolls of thunder, accompanied by flashes of light, periodically paint shadows of leaves climbing up their walls. It was a stormy night that only the eloquence of a well-worn, dog-tagged book could capture properly.

Cheng Xiaoshi didn’t enjoy rain, for understandable reasons, but Lu Guang could appreciate the ambience from afar, beneath the fluorescent light of the solarium, where it's quiet, warm, and calm. Two worlds apart.

The barely consumed cup of tea grows lukewarm in Lu Guang's hand, a flavor mindlessly picked from their unlabeled tea bag stock that he hadn't held much favor for, something too bitter and currant-like. His other hand holds the book of short stories chosen to read because of their easily digestible nature and familiarity.

Usually, easily digestible.

Cheng Xiaoshi sits beside him in the uttermost ridiculous position, legs hanging over the back of the couch, creating smudges of his own on the window; Lu Guang will make him wipe them off tomorrow. Jingles of some gacha game from the phone held precariously over his face break through the sound of raindrops. He rambles on about luck and statistics not working in his favor, two things that Lu Guang isn't sure go hand in hand.

Even with the rain and his seemingly lousy stat rolls, Cheng Xiaoshi seems perfectly content with the evening, in the wake of their stay in the hospital only a few weeks prior, on Qiao Ling's orders to take it easy.

Lu Guang's ideal way to spend an evening: reading, drinking tea, and sitting in the rain next to Cheng Xiaoshi.

It's a dream.

But Lu Guang knows better than to trust a dream without skepticism. Who’s to say he won't wake any minute in a cold, empty bedroom and in a hollow home? Afterimages of blood thick on his hands, dirt beneath his nails, and a summer's evening forgotten when the calendar reads September?

A dream, by definition, indicates one's inevitable waking into reality. Perhaps he got too caught up in the quietness of the moment and the unexpected deviation in this timeline, lulling him into a false sense of hope that he might succeed in his mission this time. Lu Guang grips the spine of his book tighter, the words as unreadable as the indistinguishable buildings lost in the rain's haze.

Professor Van Stopp is right; who’s to say that he won't simply cease to exist once the dreamer awakens from his dream? It wouldn't be the first time things had fallen apart right at the peak of their happiness.

It wouldn't be the first time an evening like this turned to a devastating nightmare in only a moment, a distant rumble of thunder punctuating the thought.

And he does not know if it will be the last.

Goosebumps prick at his skin as a cold sweat washes over him, vision swimming. Feeling warm a moment ago, now it's as if he's been plunged into the cold of the storm outside. Pressure builds in his chest and skull, and his throat dries despite a thick, desperate swallow. Logically, ruminating is counterintuitive; nothing had happened to indicate that something was to go wrong, and yet his thoughts delved into a spiral, relentless and bothersome, like the torrential downpour slated to last through the night. Overthinking once more trumps his small morsel of enjoyment.

What if his happiness is the node that leads to their parting? What if he's let his guard down too much, and his foresight has failed him? What if there is a wolf hiding under the cover of this storm? What if this is all just a dream? A nightmare in disguise?

Lu Guang reminds himself that this moment isn't a dream. The light work they accomplished today on sorting client photographs and cleaning clients' cameras that day, The meal they shared for dinner that Lu Guang cooked but barely ate, and the evening they now shared beneath a stormy sky wasn't a dream; He was very awake; this was the reality he was in, not the one from before.

But the way the world idly shifts around him, blurred at the edges, is unconvincing. Wavering confidence in his existence; a storm roaring in his ears, water melting away everything around him—

Disintegrating the fabric of—

Suddenly, the pressure is unbearable, expelling in wet coughs that steal his breath entirely. Setting the book down quickly to save the pages, he lifts the back of his hand to his mouth, preventing any further germs from escaping or, at the very least, muffling the obnoxious sound of his coughing.

How disgusting.

"That cough still sounds awful…"Cheng Xiaoshi swivels his head towards Lu Guang, all interest lost in his game, "Did you take any cold medicine?"

"Don't need to." Lu Guang tries to hold back the next cough building in the back of his throat, keeping his breath steady. "I don't have a—"

It doesn't work, and the next coughing fit takes over halfway through his sentence.

"Dunno man, sounds like a cold…"

"No, it's not." Lu Guang pinches his eyes closed and rubs the bridge of his nose, unwilling to concede he’s getting sick. All the symptoms are just residuals of getting stabbed, subsequently kidnapped, and then getting beaten up by Qian Jin in the subway tunnels, then needing to recover in the hospital for two months. One event after another. It's recovery pains; it's just unmanaged stress. Having gone through so much in a short period of time, this sort of exhaustion is to be expected. Lu Guang does not have the same energy to bounce back that Cheng Xiaoshi possesses.   

Weariness already lingers deeply in his bones, an exhaustion that can’t be shaken. Being sick on top of it all would be far too cruel while he can't breathe in anticipation of the other shoe dropping, waiting for this dream to end, waiting in dread for September to dawn to see if the changes he'd created were enough this time. This isn’t a cold; It's his nerves dialed up to ten; anxiety slithering under his skin, watching and waiting to devour him the second he concedes to it.

Besides, “We are too broke for cold medicine.”

The amount of cold medicine needed to drown in for this damned cough far exceeds their meager budget.

“I think it’s very inspiring that you believe pure denial can conquer a common cold. I’ll take a leaf out of your book when I inevitably catch it.” Cheng Xiaoshi rolls his eyes.

Maybe it was pure denial, but Lu Guang learned to live off of pure denial at this point.

"Idiots can't catch colds." Lu Guang snaps his book shut.

Cheng Xiaoshi is right about one thing. If it is a cold or something infectious, he certainly isn't doing Cheng Xiaoshi any favors by sitting too close to him. This could be counterproductive to his entire mission in this timeline. Even the most innocuous changes could create ripples in the timeline. And this was one he didn't account for.

Best to get up, get his glasses to finish this collection of short stories, or refresh the tea that might warm him up, because when did it get so cold in here? He makes a mental note to check the heater tomorrow, amongst other issues. Gnawing anxiety just beneath the surface that the reality he is in is not his own, he'd become an anachronism in his own life and time, and inevitably, it will catch up to him. The heater is more manageable, a fixable problem, in contrast.

Mind screaming at him, Lu Guang needs to prevent himself from waking up from this dream.

"So you admit you have a cold!" Cheng Xiaoshi says, leaning his head against the couch cushion, pleased to catch Lu Guang in a contradiction. The smile drops the moment Lu Guang pushes himself off the couch clumsily, knees shaking under him like jelly, while his form sways with uncertainty. 

"Lu Guang? Hey-" Cheng Xiaoshi twists out of his ridiculous position on the couch and is at Lu Guang's side in less than a second. While Lu Guang appreciates the attentiveness, it's unwarranted. He's fine; just needs to get out of this terrible mindset he's worked himself into. This night can be salvaged, at the very least, for Cheng Xiaoshi's sake. 

"Woah, h-hey-" Cheng Xiaoshi grabs his shoulder when Lu Guang leans too much to one side, trying to get around their coffee table and nearly topples over. Firmly, he grasps Lu Guang’s wrist, fingers stopping him from wandering further.

"You don't look so good..."

"Fine. I'm fine, just—" Lu Guang raises a hand to cover his face in embarrassment of almost falling, also to rub the accruing sweat out of his eyes, thinking maybe that was causing his double vision, but he's unable to tell. Things are blurring around him like a camera out of focus. Even having nothing to worry about, Cheng Xiaoshi still holds on to him, brow knitted. Lu Guang attempts to reassure, "Getting the cold medicine we don't have—"

Not buying the explanation, He spins Lu Guang by the shoulders to face him, dizzyingly. Cheng Xiaoshi's hand gently slides back his hair, resting on his forehead. Lu Guang can only stare at him, dazed and mind sluggishly attempting to catch up to the situation. Dry and pleasantly cool, Cheng Xiaoshi’s palm is soothing against the buzzing in his skull. Lu Guang leans into the sensation without thinking, giving in to the fleeting touch.

"God—" Cheng Xiaoshi pulls his hand back in disbelief, inhaling sharply through his teeth. "Ok, so you were right, you definitely don't have a cold…Fuck, you're burning up. I feel like I should be calling you 'idiot' now…"

Oh... A fever. That would explain why his brain was beginning to feel like mush. Huh, maybe he is getting sick. But he isn't sure when exactly it started. Not quite sure of anything right now; the current revelation comes far too late.

Everything swims around him as if the sitting room is dancing underwater beneath a rolling tide. Colors wash together, and it's getting harder to define Cheng Xiaoshi's features, even if only a few centimeters away. His concerned gaze, pools of amber, muddle into the smudges with the rest of the solarium. This feeling is only amplified by sound-dampening in his ears. Cheng Xiaoshi's voice muffles as if it were traveling through gallons of water.

Cheng Xiaoshi asks him something and then tells him something. Lu Guang responds, but isn’t sure what he said. It's lost in the roaring of waves, water rising around them, and the sitting room forgotten. Lu Guang must be underwater somehow, he surmises. Why else couldn’t he breathe? Lungs refuse to draw air in, leaving him breathless and gasping as the familiar sensation of hypoxia washes through him. Powerless to fight it, the pressure from the deluge becomes too heavy, or a vortex grows beneath him because he's being pulled down the next moment like a tide crashing into a shore, breaking apart.

He sinks...

Cheng Xiaoshi knew about Lu Guang's 'cold'. Sharing a close space daily, it was hard to miss. The symptoms started the past few days: a cough here and there, bags under Lu Guang’s eyes growing darker each morning, and his appetite waning even if he ate like a bird to begin with. Cheng Xiaoshi figured it was the cold weather or remnants of their recovery. A quick search on Baidu said that cold symptoms would fade in a week. With a plan to give Lu Guang the lightest workload possible and a personal goal to get Lu Guang to admit he’d caught a cold, Cheng Xiaoshi waited.

But the fever is a new revelation, colds aren’t often accompanied by fevers. And he hadn’t realized how poor in health Lu Guang was until this moment, the other shivering under the palm of his hand, contrasting how hot his skin felt. Lu Guang’s gaze is dazed and faraway, no reassurance that he grasps his current situation fully. Cheng Xiaoshi holds him steady by the shoulders. "You must be feeling terrible…Why didn't you say anything?"

He’s mentioned being tired before, but being tired wasn't a new state for him, especially with a recovering stab wound and everything with the Qian Jin and Li twin case. They’ve only recently left the hospital with instructions to take it easy and not overexert themselves. Exhaustion is expected but it always seemed to take a more considerable toll on Lu Guang.

Cheng Xiaoshi regrets not pushing him a bit harder about the cold symptoms now, it may be the flu instead.

"I'm fine…" Lu Guang says, unconvincingly, eyes dropping to the floor and avoiding Cheng Xiaoshi’s inquiries.

"Uh, no. You're clearly not since you are shaking like a leaf." Cheng Xiaoshi says, no longer allowing Lu Guang to deny the obvious. He tightens his grasp on the other’s shoulders. Lu Guang can be equally as stubborn, something most others don’t realize due to his introverted nature.

Understanding the situation and Lu Guang’s state better now, he can do something about it. Bed, medicine, food, and rest. With this foolproof plan, Lu Guang will be back on his feet in no time. He'll make sure of it!

"How about you go lay do—Lu Guang?!"

The plan takes an instant nose dive, much like Lu Guang who collapses to the side suddenly without warning. Cheng Xiaoshi haphazardly throws his arms out, clumsily catching him at the cost of his own balance, and both of them sink roughly to the tiled floor, narrowly avoiding the coffee table.

Cheng Xiaoshi quickly rights himself after the fall, but Lu Guang slumps against his chest, unmoving and unresponsive.

Listless.

"Lu Guang!! Hey, say something!"

Cheng Xiaoshi panics, heart racing and dread filling his veins as he nervously shakes Lu Guang in hopes of any response or reassurance that what just happened was simply a stumble. 

Only the silence of the solarium and the thundering sheets of rain outside answered, neither of which Cheng Xiaoshi was listening for. Lu Guang lay still against him, head hung low.

"When I said lay down, this isn't really what I meant!" He did not mean that he should collapse right then and there, scaring the shit out of him. Shifting Lu Guang upward, he guides his head to rest against Cheng Xiaoshi’s collarbone, making it easier to look over his condition.

"Come on Guangguang, wake up!" Cheng Xiaoshi strokes his cheek, trying to rouse him frantically. The heat of Lu Guang's fever radiates off his skin. Blotchy red flush in his cheeks washes out the rest of his complexion; he's paler than a ghost. It seems ten times worse and was likely the cause of Lu Guang's sudden collapse. Without owning a thermometer, it's blatant that it's far too high to be safe, especially if Cheng Xiaoshi could physically feel him overheating in his arms.

"Damnit, shit…your fever is way too high."

His mind races trying to figure out what to do now, his plan thrown out the window. Neither of them has had a fever this high before. Why didn't Lu Guang say anything about it? Why keep denying it? Surely he knew that his symptoms were not normal?

"Why didn't you say—" But it's useless to ask those questions right now when he needs to focus on helping Lu Guang before he gets any worse.

He decides to call Qiao Ling; She’d know what to do, and at the least, she'd be able to calm Cheng Xiaoshi down.

First, settling Lu Guang somewhere more comfortable. The floor won’t do either of them much good.

Cheng Xiaoshi slips an arm under Lu Guang's knees and winds the other around his back, then gently lifts him off the ground. His weight is light in Cheng Xiaoshi's arms; it’s easy to carry him back to the couch. A little too light, Lu Guang could stand to gain a few pounds, but that’s an issue for another day. 

After laying him down, Cheng Xiaoshi grabs his phone, sparing no moment to dial Qiao Ling and sinks to his knees beside the couch, waiting nervously as it rings. Praying that Qiao Ling was still awake to pick up.

He lays the back of his hand on Lu Guang's forehead again helplessly, as if monitoring the fever with skin contact alone.

How could this evening take such a turn? It wasn't fair of the universe; they’d literally been doing the definition of relaxing. At least Lu Guang shows signs of coming around as his eyebrows pinch together, eyelashes flutter weakly, and breaths pick up into harsh, short exhales. However, now his breathing sounds all wrong; the wet congestion turns into a crackling upon inhaling. Cheng Xiaoshi is no doctor, but breathing should not sound like that.

"Cheng –Xiao–shi! Do you know what time it is? Why are you calling?! Some of us were in bed, you know? You’re lucky I picked up, I was just about to fall asleep." Qiao Ling scolds from the other end of the line when she finally picks up.

"Qiao Ling!! Lu Guang collapsed with a fever and-"

"–Huh?! What?! Lu Guang collapsed?! Is he ok?!" Her previous annoyance has now become confusion.

"No, I didn't know-" "Did you know he had a fever?" She talks over him. Alright, he admits that maybe there was a better way to do this. Now, both of them are just panicking. Still, he continues to try to explain. He needs his sister.

"I just said I-""How bad is it? You said he collapsed-!?"

"Ling-jie!" Cheng Xiaoshi whines, voice wobbling as he grips the phone tighter, "Can you just come over? I know it's late, but I really don't know what to do…"

"Yeah! Yeah, I'll come over right now." Qiao Ling promises; the sound of her bed creaking carries through the line. Fabric rummaging, "Did he- I mean, what are his symptoms? You said he collapsed but did he come around? Still…He might need to go see a doctor if it has anything to do with his and your stay in the hospital…We shouldn't take any chances."

"He was coughing badly early, but now he's like, wheezing-I don't know, but I don't like it…"

It's hard to tell if Lu Guang is conscious; his eyelids flutter with every shaky and wheezing breath, but he says nothing. Cheng Xiaoshi places his hand flat on his chest, feeling vibrations of the rattle in his lungs.

"That doesn’t sound good. Definitely should take him to the doctor." Qiao Ling says, "I'll call a taxi and come over, we'll go to the hospital… Did he come around? Try again if not; if he doesn't, that's not a good sign-"

“Yeah, ok, I'll try again…"

Cheng Xiaoshi pats his cheek and calls his name, "Lu Guang-"

Lu Guang groans back quietly, not quite the response he wants, but it's a start. Tapping his cheek harder with the pad of his finger, Cheng Xiaoshi pleads again, "Lu Guang, Hey come on, talk to me… You're really scaring me here…"

It's a small victory when Lu Guang blinks at him slowly through half-lidded, fever-hazed eyes.

"Oh, I think I got him to wake up!" Cheng Xiaoshi tells Qiao Ling, before returning his full attention to Lu Guang, "Hey, are you ok? Do you know what happened?"

Even though his eyes are open, the fever is still bright on his face, and his focus drifts upward past the storm-blurred solarium windows on something out of reach.

"Can you hear me? Hey, Hey, Lu Guang—"

He gently turns Lu Guang's face towards him, trying to hold his fleeting attention, but it doesn't help. Lu Guang might be conscious, but lucidity is absent.

"Cheng Xiaoshi, I'm going to head over now," Qiao Ling says,  "Remember, it's still raining hard, so try to get him into a jacket, ok?”

"Ok...Please hurry, Jiejie."

It scares him just how fast Lu Guang has gotten bad.

Lu Guang stands at the precipice of an angry ocean, waves crashing into him from all sides while trudging slowly through raging tides. Rain drenches him to the core, and the wind freezes him to the bone. Clothes drag through the water, making it harder to move forward, and the target becomes dimmer and dimmer amongst the endless white crests threatening to swallow him whole without a sliver of remorse.

Relentless.

It's always been a sea in one form or another. An immeasurable, unfathomable distance to cross. An entity that's barely been explored by scientific standards, or in this case, metaphysical and metaphorical.

Yawning,

Gaping,

Abyssal,

Daunting,

Uncontrollable,

And yet, knowing it all and what was to come, Lu Guang takes one step after another, fists clenched in determination and frustration, following the flapping of a butterfly's wings amongst howling winds. A familiar voice whispers in his ear, something a master manipulator once said to him with a terrifyingly knowing grin as he was carefully unraveled apart in a dimly lit room,

'As quiet and composed as you present yourself, I see a storm brewing in your eyes. I wonder…what will be left in your wake?'

Lu Guang doesn't know. It's possible nothing may be left. But looking back on his wake would only take his eyes further from the dwindling hope before him. Questioning the journey he’d traversed would snap his waning focus on what must lie at the horizon of his ocean; he can not see it, but just because he does not see it now, it does not mean that the end he desires does not exist.

There’s a short story he read once, about how the death of one butterfly had reconstructed and rewritten an entire society, decades lost.

Could one butterfly truly make that big of a change?

Lu Guang is running out of options, and he's already killed so many 'butterflies' before, so what's one more chance to throw into the mix? Reaching out in desperation, fingertips extended as far as they can. The scales of the wings brushes against skin, feather light and gentle. He's never realized how much he'd grown into a desolate gambler, betting on his desires and despair. Crushing the butterfly between the ligaments of his fingers, paper thin wings crumble with little effort, and his fingernails create deep crescent valleys in his palms.

The world stills as the weak fluttering ceases.

Silence.

Then, the ocean around him erupts into a cacophony of chaos. The sound of thunder booms in his ears, almost deafening, before he’s dragged into the depths in a violent crashing of waves. The current pulls him down, down, and further down than anyone has dared to dive before. Light swallowed into the darkness.

Desire

An d

D̶̛͇̭̣̮̦̰̬̺ͅe ̴̨̺͓̥̠͔͚̗̰͇̾̈́̾͐ s̶̨̗̪͕̬͈̪͖̦̮̪͉͙̝̉͑̍͌̑̈́̇̋̅̚̕͜͝ p̸͔͓̟̱͛̀̽͒͋̃̕a̴̢̫̫̝̲̖̤̩̩̖̳͍̹̗͆́̍̄̇̓̾̊͐̚ ī̷̓̀͆͋͒̄̌̕ ̭̖͎̜̰͈̘̞͚̤̊̆r̷̩̘̯̍͗̔̿̿̋̎̈́̋̐̔͌͐͒͠.

‘Can  ’t yo u  we a th  er the         storm  you’re w rou ght?’

           ‘Or  wi  ll you       dro   wn  in you r ow  n       

       S   to r  m  ?’

"I sort of got him to wake up and drink some water, but he's still really out of it…" Cheng Xiaoshi brings Qiao Ling up to speed the best he can, waiting anxiously for the taxi to arrive. The storm outside has grown somehow worse, too. Rain comes down in thick sheets, blanketing the street outside, and the winds batter relentlessly at the windows, exacerbating the entire situation, and it was forecast to last till morning.

While waiting for Qiao Ling to arrive, Lu Guang had been about as cooperative as one could be with a fever high enough to melt someone's brains out and a cough that sounded like his lungs were trying to expel themselves through his chest. He offered nothing more than incoherent, nonsensical, feverish ramblings mixed between bouts of deep coughs when Cheng Xiaoshi wrangled him into his overcoat and coaxed him into taking a few sips of water.

"I can tell…" Qiao Ling peers worriedly at Lu Guang as he lets out a particularly bad-sounding exhale, even while wearing a face mask, her brows pinched in concern, "His breathing  sounds awful like you said…"

"Yeah... I've never seen him this sick before, Ling-Jie. I'm really worried…"

"Me too... Lu Guang's always so health conscious!"

This was often the case.

Lu Guang attempted to eat healthier foods and limit his sugar intake (Cheng Xiaoshi commends him since he knows how much of a sweet tooth Lu Guang has); he'd also made the effort to keep them on a routine for work, chores, meals, and bedtime. Even if Lu Guang had his immature moments, he consistently pushed for healthier habits.

But the current events had thrown their routine out the door.

"He's been off the past week, but I thought it was a cold or, like, recovering from our stay in the hospital…" Cheng Xiaoshi revisits his observations. Lu Guang has been quieter, showing more exhaustion than usual. For similar reasons, Cheng Xiaoshi felt Lu Guang tossing and turning on the top bunk for more than one night, unable to fall asleep. When the cough started, logically, he assumed it was a cold.

He should have pushed Lu Guang harder to tell him what's wrong, to admit he wasn't feeling 100%. Their communication has been okay, but weirdly stunted at the same time. Cheng Xiaoshi wants to ask and discuss the things that happened with Qian Jin, Li Tianchen, and Li Tianxi, the rescue with the boat, the subway tunnels, their stay in the hospital, and his part in all of what had happened. Lu Guang doesn't bring it up. Cheng Xiaoshi figures it's too fresh; it's understandable if they both need more time. There's no manual for how to handle such a complex situation.

But this…

Cheng Xiaoshi can't help but feel frustrated. This all could have been avoided if Lu Guang had said how he was feeling earlier. A nagging at the back of his mind, a past insecurity rears its head, telling him this is a sign. He doesn't want to entertain that thought right now. Lu Guang shivers beneath his palms like he's freezing despite the blistering fever. The present required all his attention, a terrible but effective distraction from the whims of overthinking.

"Yeah, I noticed that too…The taxi should be here soon, and the clinic I found is open 24/7 even with the storm..." Qiao Ling brushes the fringe away from Lu Guang's forehead to check for herself. Inhaling sharply,  she draws her hand away when she understands his temperature well. "We should pick up a thermometer for the studio too…"

A light illuminates the street through the sheets of rain, and Qiao Ling's phone dings with a notification signaling their taxi has arrived, "Oh, right on time too!"

Cheng Xiaoshi carefully pulls Lu Guang up off the couch with him.

"The roles are reversed, huh…"

He thinks about how it's usually Lu Guang helping him out, whether it be supporting him through and after a bad dive, or dragging him to bed when Cheng Xiaoshi doesn't feel like he can get off the couch, or keeping him grounded when the feelings become too much to handle alone. He's happy to do the same for Lu Guang, but he's scarcely able to. Lu Guang rarely ever lets his guard down, even with Cheng Xiaoshi.

"Maybe he’ll finally address me as gege now…"

"Don’t let it go to your head!" Qiao Ling says, coming to Lu Guang's other side to help support his weight. They slowly make their way through the studio door. "As if he’d call you that so childishly, don't forget, Lu Guang is still more mature than you!"

"Tch, I'll show you, I can be mature too!" Cheng Xiaoshi quips back. But the banter doesn't flow the same way without Lu Guang chiming in, and gets drowned out by the sound of rain hitting the pavement in front of their photo studio.

Man, I hate the rain… Cheng Xiaoshi tries his best to shield Lu Guang from the torrential downpour while keeping him upright in the short distance to the taxi, knowing the rain could only make Lu Guang's state worse.

Another reason to add to the list of why.

While insightful, the visit to the doctor's office took a few hours.

It was a team effort to get Lu Guang into the waiting room and fill out paperwork. The only good thing about the storm was that no one wanted to be out at this hour. Once checked in, Cheng Xiaoshi accompanied (carried) Lu Guang to the patient's room with the doctor, and Qiao Ling braved the storm to get the essentials she was sure they'd need from the store next door.

After a few tests, which involved the doctor listening to Lu Guang's lungs with a stethoscope, taking his temperature properly, and what seemed like an endless barrage of questions Cheng Xiaoshi struggled to answer, the doctor finally came to a conclusion.

"A high fever with chills, fatigue, shortness of breath, a sense of confusion, cough, and seeming fluid in the lungs coming on quickly. After the tests, it sounds like pneumonia."

"Pneumonia?" The diagnosis throws Cheng Xiaoshi off guard. That was way worse than a cold or flu by a long shot!

"Pneumonia. I’ll need to prescribe him some medication for the infection-"

"But…how’d he come down with that?" It's a dumb question, Cheng Xiaoshi realizes. He blames it on this entire night short-circuiting his brain and not realizing Lu Guang was at a pneumonia-level unhealthy.

"Has he been stressed lately?" The doctor asks.

Cheng Xiaoshi isn't sure if he's allowed to tell the doctor the details. The police case is technically open because of Li Tianchen's escape, so he remains vague, "Stressed might be an understatement."

"The pneumonia is likely a combination of a weakened immune system because of his recent gastrointestinal surgery, and stress. He was more susceptible to picking up a viral or bacterial infection." The doctor gives Cheng Xiaoshi an encouraging pat upon seeing the distraught expression after hearing the diagnosis, "Worry not, with rest and medication, your friend will get better. We’ll give him an IV as he’s dehydrated and to help with his fever. Make sure he drinks enough liquids. I’ll prescribe him medication to help with the infection; each dose must be taken on time. No exceptions. Then, I’ll set up another appointment in a week so we can reassess his condition."

"But he'll be okay?" Cheng Xiaoshi asks quietly as the doctor sets up the IV next to the examination room bed where Lu Guang lies in an unrestful sleep. While the doctor inserts the IV in his vein, Cheng Xiaoshi takes Lu Guang's free hand, intertwining their fingers—maybe to comfort Lu Guang, but also for his own reassurance. Pneumonia has the potential to be life-threatening in the worst circumstances.

What if he loses him?

What if?

He squeezes Lu Guang's hand tighter with the thought, even if warm under his palm, the potential comfort is squashed by the situation.

"The majority of his symptoms should subside in the next few weeks with care and treatment. Right now, he doesn't require hospitalization, his case isn’t as severe as it may seem. He's young and has a healthy medical history despite a few hiccups, he should be able to recover from this with little to no complications. Even in saying so he’ll likely be very exhausted in the coming months. So be prepared. Make sure he rests as much as possible and doesn’t overexert himself." The doctor says.

Cheng Xiaoshi doesn't feel very reassured, though, as the doctor leaves the room, promising to come back and check Lu Guang's vitals in half an hour. Why did they have to end up in a hospital room again so soon?

"Lu Guang…" Cheng Xiaoshi frowns when he lets out a particularly bad-sounding cough.

Like before, Lu Guang only offers incoherent, feverish mutterings in response. Eyelids pinched together in discomfort, breathing fast and shallow. No comfort to be found.

This night feels like it turned into a nightmare.

Upon returning to the studio, Qiao Ling announces she'll make them a meal to settle their nerves. They could all use something warm after being in that cold storm. And Cheng Xiaoshi would never deny three am hot pot.

Lu Guang draped across Cheng Xiaoshi's back in a loose piggyback hold; the easiest way for him to keep his balance while climbing the steep stairs to the second floor with slightly soggy shoes and an incapacitated person.

"I’ll put you in my bunk…You won’t be able to climb the ladder…" Cheng Xiaoshi decides; ascending to the second floor with no issue. He doesn't want Lu Guang trying to climb the ladder in this state, and it would be harder to care for him on the upper bunk.

Lu Guang coughs weakly a few times before letting out a pained groan. Cheng Xiaoshi takes it as agreement to the plan even if the other isn't coherent in the slightest.

"You’re gonna be doing a lot of sleeping, Lu Guang!" Cheng Xiaoshi says, settling him onto the bed, and begins to undress him. Dry pajamas sound better than a wet overcoat, much more comfortable. "But the more you sleep, the faster you feel better! Doctor’s word!"

Interlude I: The Hypoxia

"You speak with amazing assurance of your position in the universe. You seem to think that your wretched little individuality has a firm foothold in the Absolute. Yet you go to bed tonight and dream into existence men, women, children, beasts of the past or of the future."

‘I’m falling…’ Lu Guang drifts in and out of some sort of existence he can’t untangle himself from. Nothing makes sense, consciousness unraveling into spirals of thoughts, slowly and methodically. Sinking further and further down into the depths of a sea, whether it be literal, metaphorical, or metaphysical. His body won’t move; it’s exhausted, worn to the bone. Devoured entirely. Breath utterly spent, lungs refusing to inhale as the air is so thick that he may as well just be swallowing down oceans and oceans of water. Ice cold skin, and yet blood scorches through his veins like kerosene lit aflame. He feels all too much and all too little at the same time; he might just be a nonsensical dream.

“How do you know that at this moment you yourself, 

with all your conceit of nineteenth-century thought, 

are anything

more

than

a

creature of a

dream of the future"

A dream of a future that no longer exists because of him. Why shouldn’t time recede? If time can flow as the tides in the ocean could, one could only assume logically time could recede as well. In that same reasoning, the existence he’s had a foothold in could recede at any given moment. There is no absolute when one can travel in time. Anything could be rewritten. Even dreams.

"Well, and why should not a clock go backward? Why should not Time itself turn and retrace its course?"

He seemed to be waiting for an answer. I had none to give."

Was this his punishment? 

Could he still bear the weight of his own existence? Diving so many times, over and over, it’s only inevitable he’d one day drown. A gamble lost. Even if time has been studied, no one truly knows the consequences of changing time. Perhaps, he’d finally just written himself out of the final script and the feeling he is fading in and out means any moment he’ll cease to exist, forgotten by the world he’d wrought by his own hand.

Irony at its finest. 

The responsibility that curating time bears is so unfathomably vast that maybe only a god could hold it. After all, he’s broken so many rules of the nature of the world itself and the self-imposed ones through his principles. In lieu, lies spilled from his tongue tasting of honey for his purposes, drowning the truths no one but him could disprove. Truths that are no longer absolute. The changes he’s enacted have severed a myriad of timelines mercilessly. Overwriting the fates of so many all for his desires, the fates only he’s played witness to. The regrets grew and grew from these unlived, unexplored, unfulfilled timelines. 

The things he’s done, the things he’s loved, the things he’s lost, and this existence he knows he does not belong in. The despair, the hope, the grief, and the anxiety. 

It’s suffocating. 

How could something like him exist in the first place? A walking contradiction, an anachronism personified. He’d never realized just how hollow a god could feel.

Walking amongst his own creations.

Time unwinding. Time on the ebb instead of on the flow, the past unfolding as the future recedes into nothing more than a dream.

I'm unraveling.

If Lu Guang couldn't flow with the past, and couldn't recede with the future. Then, drowning is the only fitting punishment. The water freezes his existence, crushing down on him with gallons and gallons of weight. His hand reaches out in a last-ditch futile attempt but he’s so incredibly exhausted to fight against the current pulling him deeper. The pressure in his chest is unbearable, the mix of regret, remorse remorseremorseremorseremorseremorseremorseremorseremorseremorseremorseremorseremorseremorseremorseremorseremorseremorse, loss, and ice fills his lungs. Darkness begins to swallow him once more. Who was there left to save him when he was supposed to be the saver? 

If time demands he drowns for his sin, then he’s too tired to argue his fate. If he can't rewrite, nothing is left to do but fade away. Dissolve. Devoured. Consumed by the receding times past That would be that, and rest sounded so enticing.

"The past unfolding as the future recedes; the centuries countermarching; the course of events proceeding toward the Beginning and not, as

Now,

Toward

the End?"

But, what about Cheng Xiaoshi? 

If Lu Guang were to put down the pen, if he were to cut the strings from his worn fingers, if he were to submit to the fate destined for him, to drown in the sea of time past, then would he never see Cheng Xiaoshi again? 

“Past, present, and future are

woven together in one inextricable mesh.

Who shall say that this

old clock is not right to go backward?"

Tears bubble into springs then into a stream, into a river, then into an ocean. Blood stains his hands, warm and viscous. Ocean and blood blend into one another, indiscernible and inseparable. Salty liquid makes him choke and his vision turns white hot.

“If cause produces effect, does effect never induce cause?”

The past, present, and future are all woven together inextricable mesh. If that is true, then, would he never see Cheng Xiaoshi smile at him again? 

Lu Guang can’t bear the thought. He won’t accept it.

"Does destiny, which may seize upon our existence, and for its own purposes bear us far into the future, never carry us back into the past?"

That is a future he refuses to exist in. Lu Guang needs Cheng Xiaoshi like he needs air. Cheng Xiaoshi did not deserve the fate handed to him. And Lu Guang would be damned if he allowed it to pass while the ball was still in his hands.

Lu Guang needs to save him. He needs to make sure that Cheng Xiaoshi makes it into this dream of the future. Anything to make that a reality. Lu Guang can not give up. 

Then, a hand grasps his own firmly.

Act II: The Dirge

Cheng Xiaoshi scarfs down his portion of the hot pot, practically inhaling it without tasting. Qiao Ling scolds him, whacking his back as he nearly chokes on a mushroom after not taking time to chew. She tells him to slow down, that they still have some time to enjoy a meal and recover from the ordeal of this night, but it’s futile because Cheng Xiaoshi is on a mission.

He needs to check on Lu Guang.

The need might linger on the threshold of overbearing as he’d only settled the other less than half an hour ago. But, not being overbearing enough has led to this, and despite what people might think, Cheng Xiaoshi learns from his mistakes. It's time to take a leaf out of Lu Guang's book and be extra cautious.

When the congee Qiao Ling set up to cook is ready, Cheng Xiaoshi scoops a portion into a bowl and sets it on a tray along with a refreshed cooled towel for the fever and a steaming cup of Lu Guang’s favorite white tea mixed with a dollop of honey in hopes it might quell the cough. Grabbing the prescribed medication from the pile of grocery bags, he adds it to the tray.

Once he's crossed everything off the mental checklist of what Lu Guang might need, he tells Qiao Ling, "I'm gonna go give Lu Guang his medication and see if I can get him to eat a bit."

"I’ll come up with some fresh water once I finish eating, 'mkay?” Qiao Ling says while Cheng Xiaoshi carefully climbs the stairs to ensure the tray doesn't spill.

“Thanks, landlady!” But Cheng Xiaoshi doesn’t hear her response upon reaching the second floor. He shifts the balance of the tray to one hand, quietly opening the door to their room with a soft click. The light from the hallway spills in through the door crack, illuminating a sliver of the bed.

“Hey...Ling-jie made congee for you, and I thought some tea with honey might help your cough-“  A rough coughing attack from Lu Guang interrupts his explanation. It wasn’t the first, nor does he think it will be the last, but that doesn’t change the fact that the cough still sounds jarring.

“It sounds like it's getting worse too…”  Hastily, he sets down the tray on their desk before carefully seating himself on the edge of the bed. Cheng Xiaoshi peers down at Lu Guang, a frown tugging at the corner of his lips at his state.

Gasping for breath in between coughs, barely, Lu Guang looks and sounds miserable. The dampened towel laid across his forehead hadn't seemed to help at all, his face still deeply flushed. All the covers were pushed back, revealing fierce shivers and a heaving chest from the exertion of coughing. The doctor said he’d recover, that a stay in the hospital wasn't necessary unless his condition and symptoms worsened, and that the symptoms would present worse at night.

But honestly, Cheng Xiaoshi considers bringing him back now, if not only to help him breathe. As much as the idea of another stay in the hospital freaks him out, if Lu Guang can’t fall asleep because of the coughing attacks or the raging fever, then how was he supposed to get any rest and recover?

If he could, he'd reach into Lu Guang's lungs and scoop out the icky phlegm and infection himself. Unfortunately, that is not possible (without some questionable life choices), so Cheng Xiaoshi decides on the next best thing, rather, the only thing he can do in this situation.

“Try to breathe, Lu Guang! Like what the doctor said! Slow breaths…” Cheng Xiaoshi tries to guide him through breathing exercises that the doctor had taught him to alleviate or slow the coughing. Leading by example, Cheng Xiaoshi breathes in slowly, holds, then exhales as an example, but Lu Guang continues to cough, not registering the instructions being given to him. “Come on! Breathe in, hold, then breathe out…There you go…”

The irony of telling Lu Guang to breathe is, in fact, not lost on him. Briefly, he wonders if this is how Lu Guang feels when trying to give him instructions that don't make sense during a dive. How frustrating.

The coughing attack winds down eventually on its own terms, leaving Lu Guang breathless again. Cheng Xiaoshi's shoulder fell, “I don’t know if that actually worked or if you were too exhausted to continue coughing…”

The latter, as Lu Guang looks like he’d just run a mile despite being laid in bed for the last hour. Cheng Xiaoshi says, “Shit dude, your voice is going to be wrecked after this.”

"You're still not very lucid from the fever, huh..."

Cupping Lu Guang's cheek gently, he turns his face toward him. Half-lidded eyes meet his gaze, but they're unfocused and dazed in contrast to Lu Guang's normally piercing stare, like he's caught between being awake and asleep at the same time. Zero recognition or awareness. Unshed tears linger on his lash line, caused by the coughing fit from moments earlier.

“Wait…are you crying?” Cheng Xiaoshi gasps in surprise when he realizes the tears built up in Lu Guang’s eyes are beginning to flow down reddened cheeks like rivers. Swiping his thumb gently under Lu Guang’s eyelid, he tries to wipe them all away, but the tears keep running, and Cheng Xiaoshi’s heart drops. “Why are you crying?”

This is the first time he’s seen Lu Guang cry.

“Did you have a nightmare? Or from coughing too much? Or from not feeling good? From the fever??” Cheng Xiaoshi rubs the pads of his thumbs back and forth again, but the tears keep bubbling, accompanied by small broken gasps of sobs. This is uncharted territory.

Worse, Cheng Xiaoshi doesn’t know if he can fix this if he doesn’t know the reason, wanting to cry too, seeing Lu Guang this upset.

Cheng Xiaoshi remembers how awful it is to be sick, and how uncomfortable it can be to have a fever, to have chills, and a persistent cough. To feel like your brain is crashing out, and not being able to focus on anything because of how terrible the body aches are. He has suffered the flu before, but he can only imagine the symptoms of pneumonia are tenfold.

He'd do anything if it would make Lu Guang feel better.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok! We can figure out a way to make you less miserable!!”

Cheng Xiaoshi tries to reassure Lu Guang, or at least, himself, choosing to list out some ideas that could work while continuing to wipe tears out of the other’s eyes, “I could switch out the towel? Or read your book to you as a distraction? Or maybe if you had some food and your meds, it’ll make you feel better? There has got to be something…”

Lu Guang sobs harder, breath hitching with every inhale. Cheng Xiaoshi realizes that crying and not being able to breathe from a lung infection do not go well together.

“Fuck, if you cry too much then it’ll be harder for you to breathe…” Cheng Xiaoshi says, “It’s ok, Lu Guang, calm down, it’s alright—we can make this better—“

Cheng Xiaoshi isn’t sure what would soothe Lu Guang at this moment, and that’s the problem. What would make this better, short of being able to magically get rid of the infection? If words and actions are ineffective, then what other options are there?

Lu Guang doesn’t express his emotions openly very often, and when he does, he quickly composes himself. It’s almost scary how well he can control his composure at the drop of a pin if needed. Cheng Xiaoshi has no idea how, because when he breaks down, it feels like it takes days to piece himself back together. He gets so lost in not only his emotions but the emotions of their clients when he dives. It’s so hard not to feel the feelings and then act on emotion rather than logic. Impulsivity. In those moments, Cheng Xiaoshi relies on Lu Guang’s ability to separate emotion and logic, then gives him the space to feel while also being the voice of reason to guide him through it.

How does he offer that for Lu Guang though?

What can Cheng Xiaoshi offer other than reassurances that Lu Guang can't understand right now through his delirium?  Lu Guang wouldn’t be this distraught if he were lucid. That knowledge makes this situation a lot more delicate and harder to navigate. There is no point of reference for him to act on.

It’s devastating being helpless to do anything when Cheng Xiaoshi so desperately desires to help his partner.

A hand holds his wrist tightly, tugging him up through the thick water.  Someone calls his name, muffled, but discernible enough for the voice to feel familiar and comforting. Unable to move or open his eyes against the weight of the ocean around him, he feels strong arms ease around him, pulling him closer. A sense of warmth thaws the cold currents. Time parts to bear relief.

And for some reason, he thinks about the short story of the middle-aged man meeting a dandelion haired time traveler on a hill.

And yesterday, I saw a deer.

Lu Guang consumed multiple media related to the concept of time travel over his many dives, desperately searching for an answer science has not yet provided him. And most accounts end with the existential horror of changing the entirety of the known world then being executed for it, or knowing that your foothold in the absolute can be ripped away when anything can be changed at a whim, or the existential despair of witnessing the death of not only humanity but of the entire planet without a way to truly voice how horrific the experience was to an average person without the said first-hand experience. Time travel stories very rarely end in anything but grief, devastation, pain, a loss of humanity and a sense of suffocating existential dread.

And yet, this one short story spoke to none of that.

There were ups and downs of a normal story, of course. A man meets a dandelion-haired time traveler claiming to be from 240 years in the future. Waiting for him on that hill every day, she told him about her life, the world she lived in, her father, and her interest in the quietness of her favorite point in time. The beautiful things she’d witnessed before their initial meeting.

In this story, the way time worked was that traveling to the past didn’t change anything, since everything had already been written on a macrocosmic level. A paradox couldn’t possibly arise.

When her father passes and there is no one left to repair the Time Machine properly, she is forced to decide on her last trip back. She travels back 20 years later to meet him, taking a leap of faith that he’d fall in love with her then too in his 20s. The man, in the present, had thought he’d never see her again upon not finding her on the hill that day, left wondering and waiting; saddened by her sudden disappearance.

But, in the end, the man discovers that his wife had been the dandelion-haired girl he’d met on that hill. To him, it’s been only a few months, but to her, it’s been twenties years since he came upon the truth. And he realizes why his wife had looked sad the past few days. He runs to pick her up from the bus stop in the rain. And accepts her past, present, and future fully. The bitter ending he'd expected from a sci-fi story about time travel did not come.

Instead, this story spoke to a love that transcended time itself.

Holding onto each word dearly, a yearning grew that maybe their story could end up just the same; that time would have to accept their love if Lu Guang kept trying and trying to prove time wrong. That he wouldn’t break the universe in saving the one he loved the most.

And it was all meant to be.

The story dances in the back of his mind, warmth blooming from his chest. Cheng Xiaoshi is here, limbs entangled with his. And all Lu Guang can do is think how sorry he is. For being pulled down this deep, for breaking the rules he’d held Cheng Xiaoshi to, that he’s yet to save him, for all the lies and the truths he’s yet to reveal to him, because the time is not yet right.

Or rather, maybe he’s afraid.

Will Cheng Xiaoshi accept him like the time traveler’s husband accepted her after all the time written between them? Would he understand why Lu Guang did what he did, why he felt how he felt? Or, would it tear them apart?

Why are you crying?

Why are you crying?

Why are you crying?

Why are you crying?

He’s remorseful for a lot of things.

What had been,

what was, and

what could be.

Suddenly a sound of thunder booms around them, echoing through the waves, deafening. And he’s reminded of the blood on his hands, that the sliver of hope his story might not end in this existential horror is so terribly slim when Cheng Xiaoshi is dead in his arms, warmth exstinguished and it’s all his fault. His existence in their world had led to Cheng Xiaoshi’s fate. He knows it. It was all his fault and he couldn't even save him. The changes he's made this time around may not be enough and the wait to find out is suffocating him in the quiet moments shared between them. 

Screaming his voice hoarse in a dissonant dirge, a body so impossibly heavy laid in his arms, sobbing, ice freezes his veins so deeply he thinks he'll never know warmth again, begging, yearning from the absolution of the things he will do to satiate his desires and pleading that this would not be the reality he wakes to.

The sound of roaring thunder overhead rattles the window frame violently, accompanied by a bright flash of light that momentarily lit up the entire room. The entire studio shook at the force. The next moment, Lu Guang lets out a panicked gasp as he shoots up into a sitting position, and flung his arms tightly around Cheng Xiaoshi’s middle, nearly giving him a heart attack right after the first one the thunder caused. “Wha-?! Lu Guang?!”

Wildly confused until he remembers that loud noises scare Lu Guang. Lu Guang never admitted it, but it wasn’t hard to deduce when there would be a loud bang occur in their vicinity such as the door slamming shut with a draft, a wayward firework in the sky, or the sound of a car backfiring on their street then Lu Guang would nearly jump out of his skin. Cheng Xiaoshi has teased him about being a scaredy cat once or twice, poking fun at the reactions, comparing it to a cat with their hair stood on end but Lu Guang denies the allegations each time and waves off his jokes.

Now, Cheng Xiaoshi feels like an asshole about it after seeing Lu Guang terrified reaction.

Lu Guang rambles something inaudible, face buried deep into the fabric of Cheng Xiaoshi’s jacket folds, tears soaking through the front of his shirt, and a hand grasps between his shoulder blades. It takes him a few moments to decipher what Lu Guang mumbles frantically, then, when the rain outside quiets by only a decibel and straining his ears, can he hear some of it. 

His name repeats in shaky breaths like a fervent prayer between quiet sobs interspersed with apologies.

“What’s wrong? Why are you apologizing-?”

“‘M sorry, Xiaoshi… you’re dead and I- I- I’m so sorry-why- why-why.” Lu Guang says in broken sentences., “I can’t- I—you-Cheng Xiaoshi-X-xiaoshi-”

Pieces are falling into place, and Cheng Xiaoshi asks quietly, not expecting an answer, “A nightmare? A fever dream? Did I died in your nightmare?”

Continued rambling only confirms the suspicions, along with how tightly he’s holding onto Cheng Xiaoshi and the tears shed. "Wait...So that's why you're crying?"

Ah, that’s how it was.

“Lu Guang…even when you’re the one sick, you’d worry about me?” He isn't surprised. That's who Lu Guang was. Cheng Xiaoshi returns the gesture, gently circles his arms around Lu Guang’s shoulders, pulls him closer, and nestles his chin into his sweaty mop of hair.

On the one hand, he’s touched to witness how deeply Lu Guang cares for him.

Love.

Cheng Xiaoshi feels so loved in Lu Guang's arms.

But, on the other hand, it's painful to see Lu Guang's visceral reaction to what he perceives as Cheng Xiaoshi’s passing. To know that the tears staining his jacket are for him. Cheng Xiaoshi doesn’t know if Lu Guang would have the same reaction without the fever delirium, but it’s still heartbreaking to experience.

It’s strange.

What an absolutely interesting, contradicting feeling between love and despair bleeding together that he can't process right now.

“Silly guangguang, He needs to worry about getting better, not me!”

For some reason, Lu Guang sobs harder, holding on tighter. Cheng Xiaoshi panics. Maybe his teasing was too light?

Words don’t seem to get through Lu Guang’s addled mind, despite Cheng Xiaoshi reassuring him that he’s alright. Then, he has an idea inspired by a moment a few months ago that might work.

“I’ll just need to show you then.”

Gently, so as not to startle Lu Guang any further, he turns Lu Guang’s head and presses his ear against his sternum with the palm of his hand. Cheng Xiaoshi holds him there steady, fingers threaded through his hair and the other hand running slowly up and down his spine and affection overflowing in his voice," You hear that, A-Guang? My heart is beating just fine. Strong and Healthy. And I’ll keep it that way just for you! You can’t get rid of me that easily!”

“Do you remember, Lu Guang? You did the same for me…” Cheng Xiaoshi hums low, fingers mindlessly drawing patterns in the back of Lu Guang’s sleep shirt as he remembers the last time they were like this and the roles were reversed.

Cheng Xiaoshi had snuck into Lu Guang’s hospital room in the early morning hours when dawn had yet to break. Haunted by the time spent in the interrogation room, thinking that his partner had died and that it may have been his fault, that the life they'd created with one another came to a cruel, abrupt end. Visions of Qiao Ling possessed with red eyes and thick blood staining their couch, standing over a lifeless Lu Guang wouldn't leave his mind. And an indescribable feeling that maybe he was still living in a nightmare. The stress of the situation bubbled over as tears in Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes, unable to hold it back. Lu Guang, despite being injured, managed to pull him into bed with him. Blanket tucked around them both, arms intertwined, and a warm hand pressing him closer than they’d been before.

“When I thought you had died… You held me against your heartbeat in the same way.” Cheng Xiaoshi fondly echoes the memory in his head. Lu Guang’s heartbeat was strong, too, which led Cheng Xiaoshi to sob harder. He remembered he fell asleep soon after, the cathartic release of it all tiring him out, and then waking up hours later in the same position to the nurses scolding both of them.

In the present, Lu Guang’s sobs died off; occasionally, a sniffle or his breath caught, but the worst of it has passed. Cheng Xiaoshi wants to do everything he can to reassure this precious person in his arms, head still pressed against his chest and warming Cheng Xiaoshi to his core.

He wants Lu Guang to feel just as loved as he does.

Cheng Xiaoshi runs his fingers through Lu Guang's tufts of hair in a soothing rhythm, back and forth, “See now? Everything’s okay, there is no need to cry…We’re still here and we can stay here like this for as long as you need…I’m not going anywhere. Let me help you, A-guang…I want to help you like you help me…”

And Cheng Xiaoshi means every word, heartbeat steady.

Eventually, the grip on the back of his jacket loosens, Lu Guang’s hands sink downwards. Cheng Xiaoshi continues to hold him, suspecting the cause, but softly calls his name anyway, “A-Guang? GuangGuang?…Lu Guang?”

He leans back to see that Lu Guang has fallen asleep, wet eyelashes fanned across his cheeks, his sobs replaced with congested, soft snores.“Look at you, cried yourself to sleep, huh?”

It's a first, but Cheng Xiaoshi will make sure it's the last time, too. Carefully, he lays Lu Guang back onto the bed, face still red with remnants of tear tracks mixed with sweat that dampens his cheeks. He's a mess. Cheng Xiaoshi brushes back his hair fondly one last time before pulling up the covers over Lu Guang and tucking him in.

Sleeping is a lot better than crying.

Still, he couldn't leave Lu Guang's pretty face like this; it would probably feel refreshing to have a nice cool towel to wipe up the sweat and tears. The plan to feed him congee is a lost cause, Cheng Xiaoshi thinks as he walks back to the assortment of things he'd left on the desk. The tea had no doubt become lukewarm by now, but the towel should still be fine with the chill in the air.

And the medicine...

Cheng Xiaoshi remembers that he was supposed to give him the medication. But now, Lu Guang was fast asleep, unable to take it.

Fuck, well that was not timed well at all.

The medication had to be taken on time for it to be effective; that's what the doctor prescribed, and that was his understanding, but Cheng Xiaoshi really didn't want to risk waking Lu Guang again when he's finally getting some rest. It would be so cruel. He doesn’t want to see him cry again.

Staring down at the medication bottle, Cheng Xiaoshi feels like an idiot. Lu Guang might be right about his carelessness, but he can fix this; he's innovative, surely there was a way to let Lu Guang sleep while also feeding him the pills.

It doesn't take him long to rack his brain for a solution. The prescribed dosage was two tablets, and the idea should work with how small they are. Carefully, he shakes out two of the tablets into his palm, takes the cup of lukewarm white tea from the tray, then carries both to the bedside.

This was the only way Cheng Xiaoshi could think of administering the medication without waking Lu Guang; justifying the plan as he places the two tablets onto his tongue carefully, takes a sip of the honeyed tea, holding it in his mouth. He sets the mug down next to the bed. If only the tablets were dissolving, the process would be much easier.

Sitting once more on the edge of the bed, he gently tilts Lu Guang's head off the pillow. Cheng Xiaoshi presses his lips against Lu Guang's parted ones, letting the liquid with the pills flow into his mouth.

He can imagine Lu Guang scolding him for using this method, that it was far too unconventional, too much like a scene from one of Qiao Ling’s drama shows. That in real life, something like this couldn’t work. Cheng Xiaoshi argues back to the imagined Lu Guang that he’s just not daring enough to try, and he’ll prove it can work!

'Come on, swallow the pills...' Cheng Xiaoshi worries when the liquid remains, and that this possibly was a bad idea. He angles Lu Guang up more and then presses further into the other's mouth with another silent command, 'Lu Guang...swallow.'

Thankfully, this time Lu Guang does, throat bobbing slightly as the tea and pills flow down without problem. Cheng Xiaoshi cheers, mission accomplished, parting their lips in a tiny gasp of air.

In the latest iteration of Chen Xiao's request, things changed far differently than the previous iterations lived through. Cheng Xiaoshi became aware of where and when he was in the past, and Lu Guang reminded him that despite how painful the realization was, the people he was interacting with were already dead—a reminder that Lu Guang refused to acknowledge, knowing his own hypocrisy.

However, This node in particular was not one either of them could change. There was simply nothing Cheng Xiaoshi would physically be able to do to save the people he wanted to. Even with the power to travel back in time, an earthquake is a force that can not be stopped by human hand.  There was too little time, and it would change far too much in the timeline for them not to be noticed if they some how convinced the villagers to believe Chen Xiao.

Cheng Xiaoshi lamented, voice broken under the gentle night sky that Chen Xiao's mother's hands were still warm.

He knew Cheng Xiaoshi was right because he experienced the same thing. 

The comfort of the past, a tangible nostalgia.

Every time Cheng Xiaoshi's touch lingers on him, whether intentional or unintentional, Lu Guang is reminded how warm he feels, how much he wants to stay and bask in the warmth that Cheng Xiaoshi radiates.

Arms curl around him, hands holding him tight, Lu Guang thinks this is what love feels like.

—A warm spring, bright and colorful, swaddling him in endless comfort, washing away insecurities, worries, and the blights of his soul.

It's strange. All of a sudden, there is a taste of honey and salt on his lips. He can't remember if this is how the memory went originally. Or if it was only a tantalizing dream. Cheng Xiaoshi enveloping him, once more breathing life into his suffocating lungs. Filling the void of his existence with life and love and warmth.

Solace.

The endless cycle of losing Cheng Xiaoshi, diving in to find him, nearly being consumed by his own actions, then being saved by Cheng Xiaoshi all over again, repeats itself. Again, and Again. The ebbs and flows.

Interlude II: In a dying light, Underneath a blue sky, Amidst a sea of time past, We yearn for our absolution.

He can’t pinpoint when his love turned to limerence.

Maybe the moment bloodied palms met in hope and desperation, principles burned away, descent into the abyss, knowing full well what his actions could cause. Knowing that in his languish, he may never breathe again.

But, in some crevice of his mind, a glimmer of hope spoke in a familiar voice, encouraging him that just because you don’t see hope, doesn’t mean it’s not there. The hope that time as a whole is already written-

From a macrocosmic viewpoint-everything that

is going to happen has already happened-

Therefore, if a person from the future participates in a past event, he becomes a part of that event—for the simple reason that he was a part of it in the first place—and a paradox cannot possibly arise."

If hope can hide in plain sight, then why couldn’t love transcend time? If that time traveler’s story had ended in love, surely theirs could too?

That the story they’ve written has not yet ended.

That it was always meant to be, He'd prove his devotion. Time as their witness, not their warden.

He yearns for their salvation and absolution from the sins he carries for them both underneath a blue sky, amidst the sea of their time past.

This end will justify his means.

Act III: a Wake*

*Wake carries multiple, versatile meanings.

Verb.

1. to rouse or cause to rouse from a state of sleep; stop sleeping.

The most common understanding and use of this word. The transition from sleep to awake. Dream to Reality. At its deconstruction, the traversal from one state of being to another. An action that Lu Guang has become familiar with in many iterations.

“He woke up to the sound of gentle waves and a quiet whisper of desire nearly lost in the wind: At the beginning of an ocean already traversed.”

The second definition is starkly different, and yet, Lu Guang understands it even more intimately than the first meaning.

Noun.

2. a watch or vigil held in honor of those who’ve died. A remembrance of time past and things lost.

Waking into a new timeline inevitably feels as if he’s attending a wake.  A wake for his life, for the timelines overwritten, for the memories lost, gone, for the dreams they shared under the solarium’s glass, for the relationships they built year after year. For Cheng Xiaoshi.

“He has attended this never-ending wake over and over, as he’s the only one who is aware of its existence; being the only one who has remembered, the only one who will remember, and the only one who can observe time passing.“

The third meaning changes into something unlike the other two, nautical.

Noun.

3. A trail of water left upturned by a passage of something monumental.

If they call traveling through time: ‘diving’, then his progression through time can be seen as 'leaving a wake', for the changes he's made that upturned what had once settled.

“A wake of currents left in his descent, a trail tracing a voyage down into the depths.”

Lastly, in the wake of the previous definition and the thread of reasoning:

Phrase: In the wake of.

4. used to refer to the aftermath or consequences of something.

In a complex system in a stable state, the behavior will follow the predestined course and its trajectory can be predicted accurately based on previously recorded behaviors.

Order.

A song will play out the same every time. The pendulum on the clock swings back and forth in rhythm. Water will still, even out, calm and serene, becoming mirror-like. Everything is in its ordered state. Time can only play out as it always has.

But add a third variable into the system, one that does not follow the pattern. One that defies the natural progression of the known. Drops turn to ripples, turn to roaring waves. Even the death of a single butterfly can throw the system into Chaos, predictability thrown out the window.

In the wake of change, the consequence is the unknown.

“In the wake of his desires, it’s possible nothing will be left. But yet, just because one does not see hope at the end of a chasmic, yawning abyss, does not mean there is none. And perhaps, that was the cruelest thing ever gifted to humanity: That one sliver of light in the dark that begets a life of struggle and strife, if not only to obtain one last moment

of

a

tantalizing

dream.”

Lu Guang knows he’s dreaming. Or at least some part of his disjointed consciousness does. It's the strange state of being between sleep and wake, where everything feels a bit too surreal for his liking. Lucid dreamers could control their dreams. However, he’d never been able to consistently. It’s frustrating. How did they do it?

So even if he knows this is a dream, Lu Guang can’t open his eyes, in dream or reality, stuck in a state of paralysis or limbo until his subconscious deems it necessary to move for the sake of the dream’s narrative. Too exhausted to fight it, the dream plays out.

The crescendo then diminuendo of gentle waves layers with cries of seagulls in the distance fills his ears, and the sensation of sea foam rushes over him like a blanket, flowing and receding in a relaxing rhythm. The coolness of the water caresses his skin, soothing the heat of the midday sun bearing down on him. The soft, fresh wind plays with the dry strands of his hair, then stirs the sand around him, flavoring the air with sea salt, thick on his tongue and tickling his nose.

Still unable to pry his eyelids open, his mind’s eye paints the vivid colors of a beach with white sands, turquoise waves with pearl white crests, and an endless sky of deep blue around him. 

In the wake of his languishing, this feels serene.

A state of ataraxia.

One of his better dreams, that’s for sure. The most ideal napping place. If he could move, he might be convinced to build a sandcastle, even understanding its fleeting and frivolous existence in the face of a surging tide.

The feeling of sleep douses his senses, lulled by the symphony of ocean sounds, laid out on the shoreline between land and sea, known and unknown, order and chaos.

There is a familiar voice in the wind, full of energy, beckoning him.

“Come on, Sleepyhead~!”

“….” He’s so tired.

“It’s time to wake up!”

“….” He’s so very tired, though.

“I’m waiting…come find me.”

A feather touch of fingers dusts across his cheek like the flap of a butterfly’s wings, brushing back his sea-soaked hair before drawing away. Lu Guang finds a spark of strength to pry his eyelids open. The reflection of light in the water meets his vision, and he pushes himself up slowly against the blankets of crests.

By the time the dream stabilizes around him, Cheng Xiaoshi is gone, like sea foam. Leaving him with the unbearable feeling of longing.

A blue butterfly flutters towards the horizon where the sea meets the sky and land ends, reminding him that he cannot stay here. This dream will end. The tides will wash away his presence here like a sandcastle if he stays, swallowing him whole. This is where his journey always began, at the shoreline of an abyssal body of time that he must traverse if he has any hope they’d both one day wake up on this idyllic beach.

Lu Guang needs to get up and walk back into that ocean and start searching again for that sliver of hope, into the wake of the chaotic storm he’d wrought. A tidal wave of thoughts and feelings overcomes him, He needs to—

Lu Guang wakes, for real this time, to his own coughing fit, lungs expelling air and mucus painfully against his will. Groaning, he pushes himself up clumsily to alleviate the attack, but the attempt does very little. Choking on his own breath, he rides it out till his lungs have no air or fluid or whatever was left in them and relinquishes the hold on his throat.  Chest aching in the aftermath, sore and spent.

What an absolutely miserable way to wake up.

He tries to breathe, but it hurts. Something so simple shouldn’t be such a struggle. Respiration was supposed to be innate. Lu Guang presses the palm of his hand over his sternum firmly, as if it would stop the stabbing pain in his chest that the coughing stirred up. The pain hinders any attempt at breathing deeply, leaving him lightheaded and dizzy. Hair sticks to his forehead uncomfortably despite trying to push it back with sweaty fingers. Everything feels a touch too hot one moment, then too cold the next.

Ah, so I have a fever too…Everything is spinning.

He feels like shit. Actually, worse than shit.

What a reprieve that beach dream would be right now.

Trying to put pieces back into place and realign his timeline, his mind only offers flashes of scenes, like a movie cut up into tiny pieces with no context: Staring at the solarium’s roof, stained with rain, flashes of light. Cheng Xiaoshi frantically asked him things he couldn’t remember. Cheng Xiaoshi dressed him in his overcoat. The white of the doctor’s office’s ceiling. Drowning in the metaphorical ocean in time while surrounded by book quotes. The last one didn’t happen and must have been a fever dream. Therefore, can he trust the validity of the other memories in tandem?

Everything is too hazy to grasp. His head droops pitifully, a headache growing from the effort. 

I want to go back to bed… Lu Guang thinks miserably. It’s just one thing after another. However, the stress from those things may have contributed to his illness.

The room brightens slowly with the breaking of dawn, light bounces off the parquet floor and illuminates what isn’t in direct sunlight, all evidence of the grey storm clouds from the night before gone. The bunched sheets on the bed almost become too blinding to stare at. He’s been tucked into Cheng Xiaoshi’s bunk instead. A sound decision, even if there is a tinge of guilt at the thought, though he definitely doesn’t know if he’d have the strength to climb the ladder right now.

A familiar snoring rises from beneath the bed.

Beside the frame was the spare mattress laid on the floor,  a slumbering Qiao Ling and Cheng Xiaoshi on top. Qiao Ling seemed to have stolen the blanket at some point during the night, evident in how she’s curled up under the sheets, while Cheng Xiaoshi took up most of the bed space and nearly pushed her off, limbs spread out carelessly.

A different sort of warmth floods his cheeks, and a smile tugs at his lips fondly at the ridiculousness of his friends, Idiots, Lu Guang thinks with little heat, There was no reason to get the spare mattress…

If his illness is infectious, then the two need to be more careful around him. Qiao Ling would be more cautious, so it’s Cheng Xiaoshi he worries about. His definition of personal space is vastly different than Lu Guang's. Hopefully, Qiao Ling kept him in line, like he’d imagined she would. Lu Guang wouldn't wish this malaise on either of them.

Still, to sleep on the floor like that in an impromptu sleepover, sleep properly next time.

His body decides that since he’s awake, he must suffer the consequences; the pressure in his bladder can no longer be ignored. The crushing feeling of utter exhaustion and wanting to go back to bed weighs down on him, but having an accident while in Cheng Xiaoshi’s bed is too mortifying to think about. Better to deal with it now, surely he’d feel better then.

Lu Guang swings his legs over the edge of the bed slowly, his aching muscles screaming in protest, folding him in half, elbows to knees, as he realizes just how hard the act of walking to the bathroom will be. Mentally preparing himself, You just need to make it to the bathroom…

Slow steps. Lu Guang amends his plan. Shakily taking the first step, he doubles over almost instantly, out of breath from the exertion and knees weak beneath him.

“Fuck.” Lu Guang curses in a rasped voice, almost nonexistent, his throat worn down. He tries taking slow breaths, willing himself to keep moving forward, but loses his balance, catching himself weakly in a crouch before he face plants, hand gripping his hair in frustration. He's like a baby deer finding its first footing, how humiliating!

“Come on, come on…”

With all his strength and a few moments to gather said strength, he stumbles forward again, using the door frame as an anchor, nails digging into the chipped wood. 

Three steps taken and three or four more steps to go, but it's become apparent this is not feasible in his state, as he sinks to his knees at the precipice of the hallway against the doorframe.

‘How…how is this somehow worse than being stabbed?’ Being stabbed was almost preferable to this suffocating feeling. He’d severely underestimated how ill he was. Before, what he thought was a cold escalated into something like the flu has become so much worse. He doesn’t remember what the doctor diagnosed him with, but if he can feel it in his lungs, then it must be respiratory. A bad case of influenza? Bronchitis? Pneumonia? Whatever it is, it thoroughly overworked Lu Guang’s already taxed immune system.

I just need a moment, need to catch my breath… Wheezing turns to coughing again, holding onto the door frame weakly, the corners of his vision darkening, and the bathroom door looks further and further away.

This might not be a journey he can make; passing out doesn’t seem like such a bad idea now.

Cheng Xiaoshi wakes to a familiar cacophony of coughing and twists his neck sharply towards his bed, eyes widening upon finding it empty. Panic fills his veins, and he sits up quickly to figure out where the occupant went before his gaze falls to their wayward patient. Lu Guang clings to the doorframe as his shoulders shake with violent coughs. Cheng Xiaoshi spares no moment to pull himself off the bed, careful not to jostle the sleeping Qiao Ling, and rushes to his side.

"Lu Guang? Hey, you're awake?" Cheng Xiaoshi kneels beside him and grasps his shoulders to help him stay upright. "Why are you out of bed?"

He definitely should not be awake and moving, but Cheng Xiaoshi is mildly impressed he'd made it across the room in his condition, clearly still visibly ill.

Looping Lu Guang's arm around his shoulder, he slowly pulls Lu Guang’s weight against his side to keep him stable.

"Xiaoshi…" Lu Guang blinks blearily at him when the coughs die down. As Cheng Xiaoshi had predicted, his voice is wrecked: low and gravely. On the bright side, Lu Guang doesn't seem as delirious as last night, as his focus stays on Cheng Xiaoshi even if he looks exhausted to hell and back. He might just be able to hold a conversation now.

"Yeah, why are you up? You should be in bed, your body really needs rest." Cheng Xiaoshi lifts them both off the ground.

"…Have to use the restroom." Lu Guang groans at the action, leaning further into Cheng Xiaoshi's side, to which he encourages as they begin the slow walk to the bathroom.

"Oh, yeah, I guess that's a valid reason." Cheng Xiaoshi says. "But still, you should have woken one of us up! We're here to help!"

"Thought I could make it…"

"Yeah, and?" Cheng Xiaoshi asks in disbelief, while he admires Lu Guang's tenacity. How in the world did Lu Guang think he was going to make it when he's still gasping for air like a fish out of water? "How did that work for you?"

"Shut up…"

Well, maybe he was feeling a bit better if he could banter back. Cheng Xiaoshi asks, "Do you feel any better today?"

"Not really…" Lu Guang says, and Cheng Xiaoshi believes it. Out of breath, face still flushed and body shaking against his from either the effort or chills, Cheng Xiaoshi wondered if the doctor was right in saying he'd recover on his own and didn't need to be admitted.

Dragging a person to the bathroom is a slow trek, Cheng Xiaoshi needing to do most of the leg work, not that he minded, but upon reaching the bathroom door, Lu Guang tells him through an airy exhale, "I can make it from here… It's fine, Xiaoshi, you can go back to sleep, it's still early-"

"No offense, but you look like you're about to keel over. Again." Cheng Xiaoshi says. Full offense. Besides, he won't go back to bed now; Lu Guang clearly is not as fine as he claims and needs his assistance, despite being unwilling to ask for it. If he couldn't reach the bathroom on his own, why did Lu Guang believe he could make it back to the room the same way?  "You're just parroting my words anyway, is it so hard for you to let me be the eldest sometimes, huh?"

Their age gap might only be a few months, but he'll milk it for what he can. Maybe it'll come in useful one day.

"Aren't we partners? It's ok to lean on me more, A-Guang." Cheng Xiaoshi sighs at his stubbornness. Lu Guang likely wants to save face or dignity or something, but he shouldn't have to with Cheng Xiaoshi, especially after all they've been through together. "Right now, you seriously need to give your lungs a break…."

Why is it so hard to admit when he needs help? Lu Guang always carries the responsibility for both of them in cases and with their powers, always in control of the situations, the best he can. Always there when Cheng Xiaoshi needs him, ready to assist, support, and comfort. Always. A rock. An anchor. A trusted partner. Cheng Xiaoshi doesn't have to look when he passes the ball to Lu Guang. Does Lu Guang feel the same way?

It's not fair; Lu Guang will cry out his name in his sleep, and yet, when awake, he—

"Woah! H-hey!"

Cheng Xiaoshi gasps when Lu Guang nearly lurches forward, catching him quickly with a hand against the other's chest. Lu Guang slumps against his fingers weakly, shoulders sagging down pitifully. "Jeez, how in the world did you even make it to the door?"

Lu Guang answers with only a weak grunt, some form of agreement. Poorly composing himself, he tries to step toward the bathroom. Cheng Xiaoshi stops him, easily, and pulls him back.

"Just a sec, you're still really warm, Let me check your temperature quickly—" Cheng Xiaoshi pushes back the hair from Lu Guang's forehead and leans forward with his own. It's unconventional, but should work; he's seen it done on a TV show before, and his last c drama formed plan worked. Lu Guang blinks at him with half-lidded eyes and maybe a hint of confusion. He still feels feverish, brow sweatier than Cheng Xiaoshi's, but he thinks it's probably a lower temperature than last night from what he remembers.

"You still have a fever, but I don't think it's as bad as last night…Why won't it just go down?"

But he still doesn't approve of the temperature; a delirious Lu Guang was no fun, and he'd like to prevent that from happening again. "Maybe more fever reducers would help? You're probably dehydrated too…"

"Cheng Xiaoshi. I'm fine." Lu Guang says again, voice cracking. Cheng Xiaoshi feels his brow knit beneath his as he says, "Quit fussing, I'm not a child…"

With that, Lu Guang turns through the bathroom door, Cheng Xiaoshi in tow.

"One, you're objectively not fine. Why are you being so stubborn about this? Two, I wouldn't have to fuss if you just told me things,—" Lu Guang slowly shuts the door in his face, interrupting his ranting. He catches the door handles, also easily and asks, "Hey, why are you closing the door?"

"You're not coming in."

Lu Guang glares at him, eyes narrowed, hand on the other side of the handle, trying to close the door.

"But you can't go alone—What if you fall in? You were just hugging that door frame to stay upright… let me in!!"

"No."

“Oh come on Lu Guang. It's nothing I haven't seen before—"

"No." Lu Guang finally pushes the door closed.

"-You! Childish!!- Not a child, huh?!" Cheng Xiaoshi says and then throws his hands up in defeat. "Ugh fine- Just- tell me if you feel dizzy…"

Lu Guang won't, if last night was any indicator. But it's the thought that counts. Maybe. He leans back against the wall next to the bathroom door, crossing his arms and nose scrunched up, "I'll just wait here, I guess. My help cast aside like yesterday's newspaper, I see."

“Didn't stop holding me till you fell asleep last night, but now, locking me out—" He says under his breath, memories in the front of his mind.

Cheng Xiaoshi pouts till it dawns on him that Lu Guang didn't lock the bathroom door, never hearing the click of the lock. And yet, wouldn't let him in? He could go in right now if he wanted to, scare Lu Guang off the toilet, and get retribution. But he'll be nice. It's likely a good thing he forgot to lock the door in case something happened.

Maybe he was being too much; his annoyance deflates. It was possibly a touch too clingy on his part. He gets it. After what happened last night, Cheng Xiaoshi couldn't help but worry about whether Lu Guang wasn't telling him anything else. A sense of unease builds in his chest. Even if he'd already assumed Lu Guang was sick with something, his partner never admitted it, and his condition got serious. That's not healthy. Literally.

Does Lu Guang not trust him after everything that has happened? Cheng Xiaoshi knows he's messed up, a handful of times during their cases, but…

Lu Guang's been so quiet recently, even before he'd gotten sick, too. The ordeal with the Li twins and the Qian Jin case was exhausting to process and recover from, and each was going through so much. But Lu Guang didn't want to talk about it, not in the hospital room they shared or after they had taken some space from the topic. Cheng Xiaoshi spoke about how he felt and apologized for the part he played in all of it, how Lu Guang's near-death impacted him, scared him to no end, and still upsets him. But Lu Guang hasn't said anything about his side of things, only blanket statements that he's grateful they both made it through.

It doesn't seem like enough. Or it's not enough for him. Even if Lu Guang is more reserved, quieter in nature, and introverted, Cheng Xiaoshi thought they'd reached an understanding and intimacy with one another…but, Lu Guang still keeps things to himself.

Tightening his crossed arms, a frown tugs the corners of his lips down. An old insecurity unfurls within him.

But still, why wouldn't Lu Guang talk to him about his anxiety if it's been stressing him out all this time?

Cheng Xiaoshi sighs deeply, shoulders dropping, his own anxiety bubbling up in his chest. Lu Guang needs his space; that's just who he is, cat-like and too damn independent but he hates feeling like they aren't on the same page. He doesn't want to push him to open up if he's not ready or hasn't processed things.

But Cheng Xiaoshi wants to be to him what Lu Guang is to him. He wants Lu Guang to tell him when he's upset, unable to sleep at night while tossing and turning, what's going on in his mind when he's worried and overthinking and biting the tips of his fingers till they bleed, and when he isn't feeling good, folding in on himself with dark bags hanging under his eyes. Reassure him that Cheng Xiaoshi's always right there next to him through anything and everything.

There is no problem they can't solve when together.

Cheng Xiaoshi knows they care about each other; it’s evident in how they exist together and how their lives intertwine. Through nightmares, bad dives, boring work shifts, and rainy days. When it feels like his parents may never return, Lu Guang was there with milk tea and a shoulder to lean on.

So, doesn't Lu Guang know he can lean on Cheng Xiaoshi, too? That he’d even brave the rain to buy him milk tea when he’s upset to?

After all, he loves him.

He loves him…

He loves Lu Guang so, so much.

The warmth of it blooming in his chest, overflowing till it reaches the tips of his fingers, then further and further. His hand covers the fluster building on his face.

How is it they are already in a relationship of sorts, yet he’s still like a lovestruck schoolgirl yearning for her crush whenever he thinks about how much he loves Lu Guang? What a strange thing love is.

Will Lu Guang let him steal a kiss again...dragging a finger down his lip tentatively at the thought. Probably not, an excuse of not wanting to spread germs and getting him sick. Lu Guang would ask him to wait till after he's recovered, the voice of reason, but it's not fair!

He'd probably reject Cheng Xiaoshi's offer to help him take medicine again. How cruel!

Taking his sickness so he could breathe again was in the lower spectrum of what he’d do for Lu Guang.

'Gah! Ok, this is not helpful right now- We'll overthink later.'  Cheng Xiaoshi thinks, trying to calm his racing heart at the things he wanted to do for and with Lu Guang. Speaking of which, He’s been taking too long in the bathroom. Maybe there was a flush during his introspection (yearning), but it's better to check. He’d also save Lu Guang from drowning in the toilet, too.

"You're taking too long… I'm coming in!" Cheng Xiaoshi says, knocking sharply and slowly opening the door. He peers through the crack. "Before you get upset, to be fair, you left the door unlocked—Lu Guang are you—oh,"

Lu Guang sits against the bathroom wall, knees pulled up against chest, and his head pillowed in his arms, pitifully. A ball of sickness on the parquet flooring.

"Why are you down there?" Cheng Xiaoshi slips into the bathroom. Kneeling before him and touching his shoulder in sympathy to make sure he was still awake, "A trip to the bathroom was a bit too taxing for you, huh…"

"I think I'll…sit here for a bit longer…" Lu Guang says, exhausted gaze still hung low, just past Cheng Xiaoshi’s legs. He coughs roughly, shoulders shaking, "It's ok, Xiaoshi...Really, You can go back to bed. You don't need to lose sleep over this too. I'm sorry for the inconvenience and for the trouble. I'm sorry, Cheng Xiaoshi..."

Cheng Xiaoshi's heart clenches; how could he think that?

The thoughts replay from last night and a few moments ago. Even in languish, Lu Guang still tries to look out for him, tries to alleviate stress for Cheng Xiaoshi in any way, even at his own expense. Waking up to help Lu Guang was only a mere drop in the ocean of things he'd do for his partner.

"Why are you apologizing? You know there is no need for that between us. Whose the idiot now, huh? And don't apologize for needing help either." Cupping Lu Guang's warm cheek, he gently lifts his head to meet Cheng Xiaoshi's eyes. Does Lu Guang realize how utterly drained he looks? Purple reddish bags hang under his half-lidded, unfocused eyes; face still flushed against pale skin and damp from sweat, a mess of hair sticking up in random directions, voice hoarse, breath shallow. Leaning into Cheng Xiaoshi's palm without realizing it because he can't hold his weight.

Soul-deep exhaustion.

Desperately needing of succor.

"Taking care of you is not an inconvenience or trouble," Cheng Xiaoshi says slowly, clearly enunciating every word so even Lu Guang's fever-hazed mind can process it. "I want to."

Deeper than a need, deeper than a want.

"So let me take care of you. You can tell me when you aren't feeling well, when you need a break, when you need help...we're partners, and I mean it."

That serendipitous meeting on the basketball field changed the trajectory of his life. Lu Guang illuminates and fills a desire that he hadn't thought fathomable, someone to shoulder the weight of life with him. A promise that Cheng Xiaoshi would never need to bear the loneliness of waiting at the door for their return ever again. And since then, he never has.

"You do the same for me all the time too."

He never has to look when he passes the ball to Lu Guang; even across the entire expanse of the court, the trust is innate.

"I pass you the ball and you pass it back."

How precious it was to have this trustworthy partner in his life.

"I trust you. So trust me too, yeah? I got you. I am taking the lead this time." Cheng Xiaoshi tells him firmly.

Lu Guang's eyes grow wide, eyebrows arch all the way up, and lips parted in a rare display of vulnerability and adoration. Pleased that his words got through this time, he gives the other a few moments to think and process, letting him feel the love in Cheng Xiaoshi's words. Cheng Xiaoshi lovingly pushes a strand of silver hair behind Lu Guang's ear.

Maybe there was some validity to Qiao Ling's earlier statement. If Lu Guang looks at him like he's hung the sun in the sky, then Cheng Xiaoshi will look at him like he's hung the moon amongst the stars, chasing away the darkness of the night. Perfectly complementing each other.

A feeling so cosmic shared between them.

The astonishment shifts to bashfulness, then to a fluster. Lu Guang shyly averted his gaze to the side, but still allowed Cheng Xiaoshi to play with the strands of his hair. He likes this expression on Lu Guang; he feels his age, younger and naive, and Cheng Xiaoshi no longer feels like the only blushing schoolgirl. Perhaps this is what Lu Guang meant when he answered Qiao Ling’s question after renovating the photo studio years ago.

Love seemed to transcend time if that’s the case.

It’s fitting.

He’ll tease Lu Guang about it when he feels better; another opportunity to see him blush is always a good one.

"Idiot...Were you dreaming of basketball?" Lu Guang exhales finally, in unbearable fondness, voice low and hoarse in a way that makes Cheng Xiaoshi's heart flutter and heat pool in his gut. Even softer, Lu Guang concedes, conveying his feelings deeply, "Of course I trust you...I'm in your care then..."

Lu Guang passes the ball.

Lingering in the moment, both stay there. Letting the bathroom warm up from sunlight. And letting their feelings fill it entirely. Maybe staying here for a little bit would be fine, even if the bathroom floor was uncomfortable, the change of scenery was nice. There was something cathartic about heart-to-hearts in a bathroom. 

Cheng Xiaoshi sinks next to Lu Guang, back against the wall. 

"Even so, you shouldn't get to close, you could get sick too..."

Cheng Xiaoshi appreciates his concern, but it's a little too late for that. He'd hold off telling Lu Guang about their medicine kiss. Stressing him out wouldn't be good for his health. And Cheng Xiaoshi doesn't want to be scolded twice. It was definitely a necessary action after all! He’d die on that hill. Pivoting the conversation to the real issue, he asks, "Yeah, well, you're the one actively sick right now. You're shivering, How are your symptoms?"

Now that Lu Guang’s lucid enough, it’s time to get answers before he succumbs to his fatigue. Cheng Xiaoshi tenderly brushes his knuckles across Lu Guang's cheekbone as the questions ooze out of him, "Achy? Dizzy? Feeling weak? How bad is your chest pain? We bought cough medicine and pain relievers if you feel up to taking them... and fever reducers too. Your fever still feels like it's not going down. You really do need to tell me if you start feeling any worse because then we'll have to go back to the doctor...Pneumonia is no joke! It could take a few months till you get back on your feet, A-Guang...Do you feel hungry at all? You haven't had anything in the last day. I could make you something light, maybe some congee? Or some broth? And you need to drink something too, if you don't want water, I can make tea—"

"Xiaoshi. Slow down." Lu Guang quirks an eyebrow at him, "Since when were you such a mother hen?"

Cheng Xiaoshi calls it character development. He might just grow white hair too from the last 24 hours.  "Since when you swooned in my arms like a breathless Victorian maiden very dramatically without an explanation and then got diagnosed with pneumonia only weeks after we got out of the hospital!!"

"I did not swoon like a-," Lu Guang says with a hint of embarrassment at the accusation.

"Oh you sure did- do you even remember?"

"Well no-but-"

"Then my word goes!"

"'Swoon' isn't technically the correct word-"

"You swooned, Lu Guang."

"Tch- Idiot-"

"What! I'm right!!"

Easily falling back into banter, their rhythm; it feels nice. Anxiety receding, Cheng Xiaoshi can finally breathe a sigh of relief. Things can only improve from here.

Still, there is a lingering thought; Lu Guang said he doesn't remember passing out. That is understandable; he'd been delirious and completely out of it. But then, does he not remember Cheng Xiaoshi dying in his dream either?

When the banter dies down, and a calm quiet grows between them, Cheng Xiaoshi tentatively brings it up, curiosity triumphs in the thought that this could lead to a potential other cathartic release, "Hey, so, about last night. It seemed like you were caught up in a fever dream.”

Lu Guang hums, signaling that he’s listening as Cheng Xiaoshi continues, "Do you remember what you dreamt?"

Lu Guang gives him an indecipherable stare, and there is a lull before an answer, possibly caused by him trying to recall the night.  He finally answered, looking towards the parquet floor. "Vaguely."

Another pause was filled by the chirping of birds and the ambience of the street beyond the window.

"I dreamt that I was drowning. That there was this huge wave and I was too tired to swim. Then I was being sucked into the depths of the sea- I'd never been colder in my life. And I couldn't breathe-" Lu Guang recounts his dream with little emotion. Calm and collected. Starkly different from what he’d been describing.

It wasn't the answer he expected, but it made complete sense when looking at the entire situation. Both afflictions, Pneumonia and Drowning, would have similar sensations. Dreams are weird, and fevered ones even more so. No wonder that’s how it translated Lu Guang’s symptoms. Cheng Xiaoshi nods, “Yeah, that kind of makes sense with your symptoms, honestly.”

But then another thought crosses his mind when thinking about the concept of drowning. Another memory from years ago. A day that he wasn’t sure Lu Guang remembered entirely.

“Wait, was it a memory of that time overseas when you nearly drowned?”

“Hmm, partially.” Lu Guang says, “It was a mix of dream and a memory, I suppose.”

Cheng Xiaoshi knew exactly what he meant.

Interlude III: Anoxia

Lu Guang might not fully remember that day, but Cheng Xiaoshi does, vividly.

It was awful.

Truly one of the worst days of his life before the Li twins and Qian Jin case—on par with the day his parents had left.

Their impromptu trip to Bridon after finding an old photo album his parents left behind nearly led to Lu Guang's drowning in a horrifying cascade of events.

Cheng Xiaoshi wasn't sure what the hell his parents were tangled up in, but he was not expecting it to end up going against a branch of the Chinese Mafia, and then a vile ultimatum:

The photos his parents left, their last clue in the mystery, or an incapacitated Lu Guang mercilessly dangling by the hands of a red-headed mafia member. Both were cast out to sea with a malicious taunt for Cheng Xiaoshi to choose fast and wisely, as neither could be saved simultaneously. Sea water would either destroy the photos or spread them too far to gather, while Lu Guang would perish in the ocean's depths without aid.

It wasn't a choice.

Cheng Xiaoshi sprinted past the mafia members without a thought, mind made up, and dove into the frigid waters. He could live with the fact that his parents may never come back, as much as it might hurt. It’s been his reality for awhile. But he couldn't bear the thought of living without Lu Guang. The photographs of the past meant nothing to the present and the future with Lu Guang.

The shock of hitting the water couldn't compare to the spine-chilling terror of seeing the still Lu Guang sinking deeper into the ocean between them, falling farther and farther away. Clawing his way through currents, desperately trying to grab hold of him.

The seawater was so cold and biting that he thought his limbs might freeze as he thrashed clumsily to close the distance. In a stroke of luck, Cheng Xiaoshi managed to grab Lu Guang's wrist just before he became unreachable. After pulling him into his arms with a secure hold, Cheng Xiaoshi kicked with all his strength, begging that it would be enough to get them to safety. The remnants of his parents' photos descended around him.

The swim to shore had been excruciating, between keeping them both above crashing waves and the growing weight that it might have been too late despite acting quickly, that the desire to find his parents had led to the death of his partner.

Even breaching land, the air was as shallow as in the ocean's depths. His body shook in a combination of anxiety, exertion, and cold as he dragged them onto the shoreline, knees knocking as they collapsed onto the dry sand beneath their soaked clothes. Heart pounding, feeling like it might burst in his chest cavity.

Cheng Xiaoshi thought he was having a heart attack.

"Lu Guang…Lu Guang! Come on!" He called Lu Guang's name repeatedly and shook him in tandem, but Lu Guang would not rouse; instead, he laid cold, drenched, and still in Cheng Xiaoshi's arms. Hysteria took over, and he cried harder, voice cracking, "Lu Guang, you have to wake up!!"

A horrifying spiral of thoughts overwhelmed him. Was he too late? Had Lu Guang been deprived of oxygen for too long? He's not breathing. He's not moving, he might never take a breath again and—

Now was not the time to think; it was the time to act.

Their first kiss, Cheng Xiaoshi would joke years later when the fear had faded, long passed, and their partnership had bloomed deeper and more intimate. There would be a delight in seeing the flush of embarrassment color Lu Guang's cheeks, flustered at the thought. He would chide Cheng Xiaoshi for bringing it up, but with little heat. A little light found on such a terrible day.

In this moment, however, waiting for a sign had been torturous, not knowing if the CPR had worked, if he had done it wrong. He pleaded over and over for Lu Guang to open his eyes, but he could not tell if Lu Guang's lungs were working or if his heart was beating because of how hard Cheng Xiaoshi's hand shook from it all.

It had been one of the worst days he could remember before a possessed Qiao Ling mid-dive had stabbed Lu Guang. Cheng Xiaoshi hated that he'd had to experience this fear more than once and felt so helpless in the plight of someone he deeply cared for. How could he ever let Lu Guang out of his sight again? His heart couldn't take the idea. 

Lu Guang had put himself in harm's way on Cheng Xiaoshi's behalf far too many times now. Another thing that should be brought up eventually, when the time is right.

"Lu Guang….Please…open your eyes….” Cheng Xiaoshi begged through wrenching sobs, that it was futile, that Lu Guang may never wake up again. That Lu Guang had been lost in that ocean after all, the ultimatum was rigged from the start.

But, finally, Lu Guang did open his eyes. Bright blue and shimmering through Cheng Xiaoshi's shadow in an unworldly visage. Cheng Xiaoshi couldn't help but stare in equal parts, mesmerized by how pretty a color they shone and concerned because normal eyes didn't glow like that. Cheng Xiaoshi cried in panic, and his tears still flowed strongly with everything that had happened. "What the hell, are you okay?! Why are your eyes blue? Lu Guang, Say something!!"

Lu Guang had slowly raised his hand, still soaked with seawater and covered in sand, and wiped away Cheng Xiaoshi's tears messily. He said in a low, almost inaudible voice, "Don't cry; everything will be alright now…"

Cheng Xiaoshi could finally breathe once more, before Lu Guang puked up nearly a gallon of water and passed out again.

That was the first time he'd witnessed Lu Guang activate his power. But isn't sure why, when there were no photographs around, and it still remains the only time it's been activated without a photograph. When Lu Guang woke up again later, in a far better state and with more color in his face and warmth restored to his extremities, he told Cheng Xiaoshi he couldn't remember what had happened, that the entire day had been a complete blank.

The next day, his own powers came to light during the trip during a wayward high-five. A wild trip to say the least.

Lu Guang wasn't conscious during the ordeal, but it would make some sense that his subconscious might remember the sensations of drowning. It's possible that the fever dream conflated the two, bringing back those subconscious memories.

However, remembering a dream about near-fatal drowning isn't much better than remembering a dream about Cheng Xiaoshi dying. The preferable outcome is no fever dreams, but he imagines Lu Guang's ability to overthink wouldn't allow him such reprieve.

The weight of Lu Guang leans into his side, and the warmth of his cheek falls into his shoulder, breaking him from his thoughts. A smile tugs at his lips. There is no point in worrying about the past when the present is important right now. Past and future let it be, right? And if he relaxes Lu Guang, properly, maybe there will be no more bad dreams. Only sweet ones.

"Aww, is someone getting sleepy? You lasted longer than I thought you would." Cheng Xiaoshi asks, his mood lifting significantly. Lu Guang rarely seeks this sort of physical comfort from him or anyone. Cheng Xiaoshi will chalk it up to him being sick and tired, but he still finds it incredibly cute. The speech delivered earlier hit its mark, but Cheng Xiaoshi couldn't help but tease a little, "Are heart-to-hearts in the bathroom too tiring, hm?"

"…Shut up…" Lu Guang mumbles into his shoulder, languidly.

"Well, that's not very nice to say to someone you're using as your pillow."

"Just for a little bit… Let me stay here, 'm cold-" Lu Guang says with a shiver, starting to veer into dozing off, but Cheng Xiaoshi doesn't mind; he definitely needs it as long as there are no more nightmares.

"Of course, no need to ask, my shoulder is always yours." Cheng Xiaoshi wraps his arms around Lu Guang's shoulders, pulling him closer into a loose embrace. The fever chills are playing tricks on Lu Guang's senses, but Cheng Xiaoshi hopes this will make him feel a bit warmer. He rubs a hand up and down Lu Guang's arm, creating a gentle friction to chase the shivers away.

Seemingly working, Lu Guang drowsily sighs the next moment, "Xiaoshi, you're so warm, it feels nice…"

"I'd argue that you're the one who's very warm right now," Cheng Xiaoshi says with amusement, "but I'd be honored to be your personal heater as well."

"So stay for as long as you need; you know I'm not going anywhere, " Pressing a tiny kiss into Lu Guang's sweaty tufts of hair, Cheng Xiaoshi reassured, "Rest easy! I won't let you drown."

Lu Guang is drawn to Cheng Xiaoshi's warmth in every facet, like a magnet or the gravitational pull of a planet. Cosmically, Physically, Emotionally, Metaphorically, and in every way possible. Despite the cruelty he's faced from his own family and those around him throughout his life, Cheng Xiaoshi remains still so kind and empathetic. Where Lu Guang feels he lacks in light, an irony in his namesake, Cheng Xiaoshi makes up for it tenfold.

"Who knew you could be so cuddly when you want to be? Isn't it nice?" Cheng Xiaoshi says, gently leaning Lu Guang against him more. His chest rumbles, vibrating in mirth beneath Lu Guang's ear when Cheng Xiaoshi chuckles, a strange but comforting sensation.

"Don't push it..."

Lu Guang contrasts the statement with how he melts into the embrace, as it does feel incredibly nice to be held by Cheng Xiaoshi.

He would drown over and over because the air in his lungs meant nothing without Cheng Xiaoshi sharing it.

"Just like a cat, huh? It's okay to admit it just this once! I won't tell! And you know, half the fun of being sick is being pampered!" Cheng Xiaoshi says, ever the optimist, even if Lu Guang can't imagine how any part of being sick was fun.

"And the other half?"

"Getting to lay around all day of course!"

"Pass."

"Aww come on, Guangguang, we can have a movie marathon! I'll even watch that docuseries you wanted to watch!"

"Tempting," Lu Guang says sleepily. Cheng Xiaoshi pulls him impossibly closer, comfortably taking his weight and folding around him. Without thinking, Lu Guang burrows deeper into the embrace without protest, "You won't fall asleep during it this time?"

"Well...not before you at this rate, A-Guang!" Cheng Xiaoshi laughs knowingly, "It's okay though, the landlady said we have a lot of time off while you recover. We can rewatch it as many times as we need to finish! I promise!"

It would be multiple times, but Lu Guang will hold him to that promise.

"In return, you have to promise you won't overexert yourself, okay?" Cheng Xiaoshi rambles on, his voice reverberating in his chest against Lu Guang's cheek. "I'm worried you'll actually hack out a lung out if you cough too much. No cleaning, moving around, walking on your own—or I'll tie you down myself!"

'Cheng Xiaoshi...I can't live without you.' Lu Guang thinks, reveling in the feeling of Cheng Xiaoshi's beating heart, strong and steady rhythm underneath his palm, echoing like a percussion in his ribcage. So full of life. The muscle chords vibrate like a plucked staccato note, accompanied by the rushing of blood through his veins, swelling into a crescendo. Lungs expanding and contracting, air dancing in respiration tie all the sounds together. Warm, consistent, and calming. 

An orchestra that only he's privy to, the symphony of Cheng Xiaoshi beneath him lulls Lu Guang further and further into the tides of sleep.

Badump—

Badump—

Badump—

Act IV: We Breathe (Resuscitation)

Morning slowly grows to afternoon, and the sun shifts light onto the wall, illuminating the bathroom walls in a wash of sunlight. The short trip to the bathroom turned into an extended stay, but Cheng Xiaoshi didn't mind, appreciating their interior design properly. Lu Guang had long drifted back off to sleep, head cushioned on Cheng Xiaoshi's thigh as he ran his fingers through Lu Guang's sweat-damp hair, working out any tangle found. Every so often, scratching the tips of his fingers into his scalp in a gentle rhythm to Lu Guang's sleepy exhales.

Like gentle waves,

In then out,

Ebb and flow.

Scritch, scratch.

It's like petting a snoozing kitty. Lu Guang will never beat the catlike allegations at this rate.

Cheng Xiaoshi's leg fell asleep in solidarity, but it’s well worth the price of seeing Lu Guang finally at ease, guard down and taking the rest he needed. Cheng Xiaoshi will make sure he gets it.

His eyes drift to their current position against the bathroom wall, on the tiles beneath them, finally wondering if this is the best place for this. Sure, Lu Guang is fast asleep, but is this really comfortable for him? A bathroom isn’t the most conventional place for cuddles.

Not to mention, he isn't sure when they'd last cleaned the bathroom floor.

Current events have put a dent in their chore schedule, and cleaning hasn't been a priority when recovering in the hospital. Lu Guang had tried to start cleaning upon coming home. Qiao Ling made him stop every time she saw because Lu Guang's version of cleaning would require them to turn the entire studio upside down, scrubbing every nook and cranny, and exerting a lot of effort when they were both supposed to be recovering.

Qiao Ling limited them to light cleaning only, on threat of a rent increase.

Still, even if Lu Guang was already sick, could more germs worsen it? Moving Lu Guang would likely mean waking him up, but he would probably fall asleep again. Cheng Xiaoshi doesn't want to risk him getting any worse; the symptoms are already bad enough, and his fever is already hard enough to break as is. The doctor warned him it could take a couple of days up to a week for it to go down. They'll need to manage Lu Guang's symptoms to prevent further stress on his taxed immune system.

So maybe the bathroom floor wasn't a great spot and had served its purpose.

Cheng Xiaoshi makes a plan of three parts: get Lu Guang back to bed, prepare another cool towel for him, and then make sure he can't leave the bed by any means necessary. Simple but effective.

Maneuvering Lu Guang into a faux sitting position, he pulls one of Lu Guang's arms over his shoulder and winds one arm under Lu Guang's knees and another around his back. Like he predicted, Lu Guang groans awake in confusion at the movement, blinking drowsily up at Cheng Xiaoshi like a grumpy kitty.

"Hey, it's ok! I'm just moving you back to the bedroom." Cheng Xiaoshi says, "The novelty of the bathroom is wearing off, your back will thank me!"

He lifts him off the ground smoothly, "Up you go!"

Lu Guang blinks dazed, seemingly slowly processing the change in perspective. His hand clutches at the hem of Cheng Xiaoshi's shirt in caution. It's cute. Cheng Xiaoshi grins and asks, "Comfy?"

The answer is only a sleepy wheeze.

"Sorry for waking you, I know you're tired, sorry!" Cheng Xiaoshi holds him a little tighter, making sure Lu Guang knows he's secure and snug in his arms. "You can go back to bed. I got you. I'll even hold you until you do if you want—"

"Still not a child—" Lu Guang denies, turning his face into the crook of Cheng Xiaoshi's neck; sleepy little breaths tickle his collarbones. Cheng Xiaoshi takes great delight in the other's fluster.

"No, of course not Grandpa Lu Guang!" Leaning his cheek against Lu Guang's hair, a gleeful smile stretches across his face, "Even old people are allowed to be held you know! I remember someone telling me, 'courtesy deserves reciprocity.' So you better work on that arm strength to return the favor one day!"

Lu Guang grumbles inaudibly against his neck, “I’m not a grandpa either…”

"Oh, morning, Qiao Ling!" Cheng Xiaoshi greets the drowsy-looking Qiao Ling, who appears in the hallway, just outside the bathroom door, wiping away the sleep from her eyes. She's waiting there as he leaves the bathroom, seemingly just getting up, and he asks, "Did you need to use the bathroom?"

"Nah, I'll go downstairs in a bit..." Qiao Ling says, then crosses her arms with a frown as she takes another moment to observe them. Shifting her gaze toward Lu Guang with concern, her brows pinched in worry. "Is he doing okay?"

"Kind of, he's really tired. I think he'll sleep through the day." Cheng Xiaoshi says, carrying Lu Guang into the hallway, towards the room, "Or the month at this rate..."

Lu Guang mumbles in agreement, arms wrapping around Cheng Xiaoshi's shoulders.

This answer appeases Qiao Ling, her apprehension fading into relief.

"That's probably for the best. I was surprised to find you both gone when I woke up." She says through yawns, "Why were you in there so long?"

"Our patient ran away to the restroom but needed a rest before making it back." Cheng Xiaoshi explains, giving Lu Guang a fond look when he denies the explanation that definitely happened.

"He shouldn't have pushed himself! We were right there-"

"Exactly! I'll make sure he can't escape the bed this time!"

"Good!" Qiao Ling says, crossing her arms as she narrows her eyes at Lu Guang, "Lu Guang, you're grounded until I say...why is he hiding?"

"Your face is scary in the morning, jiejie!" Cheng Xiaoshi teases.

"What a brat! Whose fault is that?! You pushed me off the bed 3 times!" Qiao Ling falling into the banter easily, her face scrunching at him as Cheng Xiaoshi walks past her to get to the bedroom, "You better be on your best form next session with Master Siwen!"

"Did he fall asleep?" Qiao Ling bends around Cheng Xiaoshi to see if she can get a better view of Lu Guang's face.

Cheng Xiaoshi pauses, taking a moment to check. Lu Guang no longer answers, and his breath has evened out. Cheng Xiaoshi smiles, "Yeah, feels like it."

"He looks quite comfortable in your arms, Cheng Xiaoshi!"

"Of course! And why wouldn't he? We're partners!"

Qiao Ling mutters something under her breath, likely another tease, but Cheng Xiaoshi doesn’t hear her, distracted by on sitting Lu Guang on the bed slowly and with some difficulties with limbs still wrapped around him like a koala. With a hand on the back of Lu Guang's neck, one around his back, he lowers him down, sprinkled with pleas of 'Stay asleep, Stay asleep',

"Ugh, It's nearly lunch now. I'll go get us something to eat. I'm adding it to your tab! Don't let him get up on his own again, that's your job!" Qiao Ling tells him before descending the stairs to the second floor.

Lovingly, Cheng Xiaoshi brushes a finger across Lu Guang's cheek once he settles him against the sheets. Reluctantly drawing his hands away, he reaches for the bowl next to the bed next to the pitcher. Refreshing the bowl of water with the pitcher, he dips the kitty face towel in, then wrings it carefully, ensuring it isn't too wet. The stream slows to water droplets, falling like notes.

A calming process.

Once prepared, Cheng Xiaoshi leans forward against the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping with his weight as he pats Lu Guang's brow with the towel and cradles Lu Guang's lax hand. Slow and gentle. Intimately.

"How could I ever leave you alone?" Cheng Xiaoshi sighs fondly. He couldn't. In a reflection of Lu Guang's promise to him in the solarium years ago, Cheng Xiaoshi makes his own oath to stay by Lu Guang's side as long as he’ll let him.

"I'll take my job very seriously, I'll show you!" Cheng Xiaoshi makes good on that promise, carefully climbing over the slumbering Lu Guang to the other side of the bed. "I'll take care of everything! You're not getting out of bed on my watch!"

There would be no sneaking away if Cheng Xiaoshi were right next to him, ready to help.

On the brink of sleep, as reality bleeds away into the lull of a dream, he feels Lu Guang's palm clasp his own. A forehead meets his. The warmth of a body finds him, gravitating closer and closer. Chest to chest and limbs intertwined. Heartbeats as one.

They breathe, and fall together.

Finale

Between the tides of sleep and wake, I will find you again and again.

I've compiled a masterpost on my Tumblr for the entirety of this comic!