Work Text:
“Cheng Xiaoshi!”
Not again. God, no. Not again.
“Cheng Xiaoshi, hang in there!”
Warm blood flowing like a river from the wound. Sticking and clinging to Lu Guang’s soiled hands as a grave reminder of his sins.
He presses deep onto the wound, because despite it all there is still some naïve part of him praying that this wouldn’t be the end, that Cheng Xiaoshi might just live. For all his efforts, Cheng Xiaoshi lets out a cough, blood sputtering as he wheezes. His breath ragged and his eyes are closed.
Why must they always die?
Lu Guang snaps out of his thoughts as Cheng Xiaoshi’s steady hand grasps his own, pathetic and shaking.
“I’m sorry.”
Please, just stop talking. Don’t expend your energy, you fool.
Don’t die again.
Please…
Their blood mixing into one as their dyed hands touch, blending into an ugly red puddle pooling below Cheng Xiaoshi.
“Save… them…”
I’m sorry. I can’t.
Lu Guang doesn’t even have the heart to lie to Cheng Xiaoshi this time around.
Cheng Xiaoshi and Qiao Ling are both radiant heroes that can protect those around them, even at the cost of it all. Lu Guang cannot protect anyone. He is a desperate, foolish coward who cannot bring comfort to the one who he cherishes the most.
No matter what he trades or sacrifices, it will never be enough to pay the price to save those that he loves from Lu Guang’s own sins.
“Please open your eyes…” Lu Guang begs into the quiet night. But he receives no response other than the silent, gentle hum of the dark room’s safelights. In reality, Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes are open. But Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes are meant to be beautiful and full of vibrant life. Not like this. Not glazed and soulless. Those aren’t Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes, he lies to himself. Come back to me, he pleads.
Reluctantly, he presses a finger to Cheng Xiaoshi’s neck and there is nothing. No heartbeat. He isn’t breathing. He’s dead. The ability to reverse time once again flows into his body as Cheng Xiaoshi’s limp hand slips from Lu Guang’s grasp and thumps onto the floor.
“Hah… Hahaha!” Lu Guang laughs. It is terribly hilarious. Fate once again mocks Lu Guang and dangles false hope in front of him. Damn it all. The tears drip and drop, blending perfectly into red as they fall to the floor.
With a choked sob, Lu Guang adjusts Cheng Xiaoshi’s lifeless body, almost slipping on the blood-soaked tiles in the process. Taking a shaky breath, he interlocks his fingers and pushes down on Cheng Xiaoshi’s body. He pushes, pushes and pushes. Lu Guang doesn’t miss the familiar sound of ribs cracking under the sheer force of his foolish desperation.
He begs, he wails, he screams, and he damns the gods as he proceeds, praying for a miracle. A sign of life. Anything.
But there is nothing.
He pushes more and more, but Cheng Xiaoshi has run out of blood to bleed. His skin is paler than it should ever be and freezing to the touch.
It’s wrong. So wrong.
Cheng Xiaoshi is meant to be warm.
In winter, Lu Guang and Qiao Ling are meant to cling to Cheng Xiaoshi under a blanket on the sofa so that they can warm up. A seasonal tradition of the siblings that they’ve done ever since they were children. Without hesitation, the two of them held out their hands and invited Lu Guang to join them under that blanket.
Next timeline, I’ll refuse their offer.
For them, Lu Guang will endure the loneliness and cold.
At least if he stays even a little bit further from them, surely, it will be easier when they leave him behind again. And maybe in that future, Lu Guang’s will tremble less as he administers CPR.
Maybe.
In that future.
Just maybe, they will live.
But for now, in the present, he pushes.
It has been 23 minutes and 42 seconds since Cheng Xiaoshi died. His arms are screaming at him to just stop and relax the sore, abused muscles. But he won’t. He can’t. He will not stop pushing for a future where Cheng Xiaoshi lives the life he was meant to.
So, never stopping, he pushes, pushes and pushes. Lu Guang’s mind slipping away in self-preservation. The shock of it all lulls him into a numb state where all he does is push down, down and down onto the corpse.
He manages to remain in this state for a long while until the sound of distant sirens snap him straight back out of his trance-like state.
I need to go. Now.
Once, Lu Guang made the mistake of pushing through with CPR until the emergency services arrived. He was arrested under suspicion of murder and it took far too long for him to access a photo. It was excruciatingly and agonisingly long for him to escape that cold hell and return to the past where Cheng Xiaoshi was.
He doesn’t want to leave. But he must.
So, saying his final goodbye to this Cheng Xiaoshi, he gently claps their hands together. He doesn’t dive into the past from this silly action, because the hand of a corpse cannot activate the ability.
But Lu Guang is a greedy man.
He wanted to feel that hand against his own just one more time.
With a shaky breath, he pushes himself up. He unlocks the door to the dark room and stumbles out. The 54 minutes of delusion are over.
Vein is long gone, more than likely he scurried off after deciding that this punishment for Lu Guang’s crimes has successfully been administered.
Lu Guang grasps clumsily for the wall to pull himself along. Each step makes Lu Guang want to scream, but this is nothing compared to the pain Cheng Xiaoshi’s soul must have forcefully endured repeating over various timelines. So, he walks. One foot in front of the other, until he finds the photo he needs.
He pushes against his wound, wincing as he looks into the photograph. Mustering up whatever remains of his strength, he manages to force himself to collapse into the deskchair.
The bell tolls five past midnight, but with a simple clap, it flips. Reversing further and further back until dark sky bleeds orange.
Even disorientated he looks around desperately. He searches and searches until a ball crashes directly into his head.
But, despite the throbbing pain in his head and the phantom pain in his side, he smiles as he blinks his eyes open to the familiar sight of him.
Of Cheng Xiaoshi.