Chapter Text
Jiang Wanyin -- Jiang Cheng to his friends -- stands on the starting block and looks out over the water. He inhales, and the scent of chlorine centers him. He lines his toes up at the edge of the block, bends down, and counts. Three. Two. One.
He dives.
In the water, he forgets everything but the smooth pull of his muscles and the cool water cradling him. In the water, the only legacy he has to live up to is the one he’s built over the last two and a half years at Gusu Prep. In the water, he doesn’t have to watch out for Wen Chao, that asshole who has decided to make his life a living hell. In the water, he doesn’t have to compete with anyone for his father’s attention or his mother’s affection. In the water, the only thing between victory and defeat is the space between one breath and the next.
He’s proud -- arrogant, others say -- but he works hard to be the best. He’s the best swimmer in the district, and come Saturday, he’s determined to be the best swimmer in the region and one step closer taking the top marks at the state tournament.
He completes four hundred meters and pulls up to the edge of the pool, flips his goggles up, reaches for his watch, and curses as he registers the time. Four minutes, ten seconds.
“You know the family motto is ‘Attempt the Impossible,’ not ‘Achieve the Impossible,’ right?”
Jiang Cheng peels his swimming cap and goggles off and tosses them at his brother. Wei Ying catches them as crouches at the edge of the pool, careful not to get his shoes wet. Jiang Cheng takes a breath and ducks under the cool water, ignoring Wei Ying’s quizzical look a few moments more.
“What do you want?” Jiang Cheng asks when he resurfaces, breathless and irritated.
“I’m taking you to dinner, baby bro.”
“I need to practice. I have a meet on Saturday.”
“So? You’ve been swimming for the last three and a half hours. You’re a medley swimmer, not distance. Unless you’ve decided to swim the English channel or something?”
“Funny.” Jiang Cheng leans back in the water and shakes out his hair. “Conditioning is conditioning,” he replies, bobbing in the water.
“A-Cheng. Come on. Get out of the pool, shower off, and let me take you to get something to eat.”
“I need—“
“To eat something.”
“Mother says—“
“Oh, fuck her!” Wei Ying throws his hands up in frustration. “Sorry, sorry.” He drags a hand through his hair. “We’ll forget about that for now. C’mon. Let me buy you dinner.” He gives Jiang Cheng a moment to consider. “Please?”
Jiang Cheng wipes water from his face. “Alright. Give me ten minutes.”
“Any longer and I’ll pull you out of here by your Speedo.”
Jiang Cheng smirks. He cups his hand and flings an arch of water at Wei Ying.
“Alright, alright! Meet me in the car!”
Wei Ying is mercifully, uncharacteristically quiet on the drive to the restaurant, restricting himself to light topics and a few mentions of his wonderful Lan Zhan. He waits until Jiang Cheng has a mouthful of cheeseburger before he strikes.
“So Wen Chao.”
Jiang Cheng chews and swallows carefully. He’d been wearing his trisuit, which covers his torso and thighs. By Saturday, when he’d have to change to the jammers, the worst of the bruises should have faded and he can pass them off as the result of tripping and falling. Wei Ying spends most of his time at home locked in his room, so he could just be fishing.
“What about him?” Jiang Cheng asks.
“You tell me,” Wei Ying counters.
“He’s an asshole.”
“That all?”
Jiang Cheng drags a fry through the ketchup on his plate. “You tell me,” he parrots. He’s too tired to get into this, so he falls back on irritating his brother into silence. Unfortunately, his brother is the master of this technique and can’t be distracted.
“Huaisang called me.”
Jiang Cheng reaches for his wallet. He takes out a twenty and tosses it on the table. “I’ll get a ride home. Thanks for dinner. See you later.”
“A-Cheng!” Wei Ying reaches across the table and grabs Jiang Cheng’s arm. “Don’t go!”
“Are you going to try and talk to me?”
“Well, it would be awkward to sit here and eat in silence. I get enough of that with Lan Zhan,” he says with an exaggerated shudder. “So many rules!”
“You know what I mean.”
“A-Cheng.”
Jiang Cheng pulls his arm away, but he remains seated.
“It’s fine,” he says when Wei Ying’s stare becomes too much. “I’ll handle it.”
“So what are you handling?”
“Wei Ying.” Jiang Cheng takes another bite of cheeseburger.
“Because I’m thinking if someone’s fucking with my little brother, that person and his scabby friends need to be handled.”
“Do you?” Jiang Cheng can’t keep the bitterness from his voice. “And you’re gonna do something about it, are you?”
“Of course!” Wei Ying’s expression turns anguished. “I promised I would, didn’t I? When you started high school?”
“And then you met Lan Wangji and started your Wonder Twins thing, or whatever,” Jiang Cheng retorts. “And I get it—“ he says, holding up his hand to forestall further interruption. “I do. There’s no possible way I could compete with him.”
“It’s not a competition, Jiang Cheng! He’s my boyfriend, you’re my brother. I need you both.”
“Yeah, right,” Jiang Cheng scoffs. “Be honest. The only reason you’re here with me, right now, is because your boyfriend is on that field trip with the Model UN.” He waits, and Wei Ying will not meet his eyes. “Tell me I’m wrong, Wei Ying. Tell me you chose me tonight.”
“A-Cheng.”
Jiang Cheng nods. “That’s what I thought.” He pushes his plate away. “Can you hurry and finish? I’m tired.”
“I am worried about you,” Wei Ying says, though he is much subdued. “Huaisang said —“
“Huaisang has a big mouth,” Jiang Cheng mutters.
“Was he lying?” When Jiang Cheng won’t respond, Wei Ying throws a french fry at him. “Jiang Cheng, was Huaisang lying about Wen Chao and his fucking minions messing with you?”
“I’m handling it,” Jiang Cheng repeats, his eyes cast down. “But it doesn’t matter.” He looks up at Wei Ying. “It really doesn’t. Because there’s nothing you can do. Because two days into your freshman year, you made a choice. Because you promised we’d be a team, and then you left me to fend for myself. Two days, and it’s Lan Zhan this and Lan Zhan that, and I don’t have a brother anymore—“
“Jiang Cheng, of course you have a brother—“
“—and it’s fine, I don’t need one. I don’t need you to fight my battles. I’ll handle Wen Chao.”
“But you don’t have to! Not on your own!” Wei Ying grabs Jiang Cheng’s arm and pushes back his sleeve to reveal four oblong bruises. “Huaisang’s worried, and by the look of this, he’s right to be.”
“Huaisang has a big fucking mouth,” Jiang Cheng says again.
“Aiyo, be nice to him,” Wei Ying says, picking a fry from Jiang Cheng’s plate. “I think he has a crush on you.”
Jiang Cheng’s jaw drops. “You’re fucking with me, right? I know you haven’t been paying attention, but I mean, are you fucking serious?”
“Of course not! I think he really likes you, baby bro. Like, likes you likes you, not just as a friend.”
“I should hope so! We’ve been dating for a year!”
Wei Ying drops the fry he was gesturing with. “What? You...what? What? Who else knows? Does shijie know? Does Mingjue know?”
“I mean, he walked in on Huaisang blowing me once, so I’m pretty sure he knows.” He hadn’t, but Jiang Cheng wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to fuck with Wei Ying a bit.
To his credit, Wei Ying’s brain reboots pretty quickly. “How are either of you still alive?”
Jiang Cheng snatches the fry back from Wei Ying, dunks it in the ketchup, and pops it in his mouth. “Well, I think he’s pretending it never happened, and he’s learned to knock, so it’s unlikely to be a problem again.”
“What else are you keeping from me? Do you have a tattoo? A piercing?”
“Wei Ying, that’s —fuck, that is the whole problem! I’m not keeping anything from you! I...I wanted to talk to you, about all of this. Wen Chao, Huaisang. I wanted your advice, and I sure as shit wasn’t going to ask Mother or Dad. Wen Ning helped me with the technical stuff — his sister’s pre-med and a big believer in pamphlets. Jiejie always returns my calls. Hell, even that stuck up peacock had good advice — not that I asked him!” Jiang Cheng says over Wei Ying’s indignant sputters. “But he was there. And he was there for me.”
“Jiang Cheng, I... I’m sorry.”
“I know you are,” he says. He does not look at Wei Ying. “You’re always sorry. You never mean the trouble you cause.” He looks up at Wei Ying. “But let’s face it. You’ve never been much of a big brother.”
“A-Cheng, I…”
Jiang Cheng looks up to see a tear roll down Wei Ying’s cheek. Wei Ying brushes it away quickly.
“What can I do?” Wei Ying asks.
Jiang Cheng sighs. “I already told you, there’s nothing you can do. I’ll handle this myself.”
“No, not that. What can I do for you? For us?” Wei Ying reaches for his brother but pulls back. “What can I do to show you that you’re my brother and I love you?”
“Wei Ying…” Jiang Cheng looks at his phone. “Huaisang’s picking me up. I’m gonna sleep over at his place tonight.” He grinned up at Wei Ying. “Don’t worry. Mingjue and Xichen will be there.” When Wei Ying doesn’t take the bait, Jiang Cheng sighs again. “Alright. Come to my meet on Saturday. You can make a sign. Bring Lan Zhan if you want, but don’t make out with him in the stands!”
“I would never!” Wei Ying sputters, indignant.
“Wei Ying.”
“Fine, fine,” he concedes. “Can I yell during your races?”
“Can I stop you?”
Wei Ying grins at him. “Probably not. But I’ll only shout during your races. I promise.”
Jiang Cheng smiles back at Wei Ying, then looks at his phone. “Huiasang’s here.”
“I’ll come to your meet, Jiang Cheng. I promise.”
Jiang Cheng scoots out of the booth and holds out a hand to help Wei Ying up. They pay the check and head outside. Before Jiang Cheng gets into Huaisang’s car, Wei Ying tugs on his sleeve.
“I’ll be at your meet.”
Jiang Cheng grabs Wei Ying and pulls him into a tight hug, and Wei Ying clings to him.
“Thanks for dinner,” Jiang Cheng says. He punches Wei Ying’s shoulder. “I’ll see you Saturday.”
“I’ll be there. For you.”
The thing about promises, Jiang Cheng learns, is that they aren’t really worth all that much, though he maybe learns the lesson too late. Or maybe he is too naive to keep hoping that things will get better for him, that people will prioritize him, even once. But Wei Ying seems so sincere when he promises to look out for him, so Jiang Cheng lets his guard down. He stays late on Thursday to talk to Ms. Huang about his upcoming trig midterm, and the halls are deserted when he makes his way back to his locker.
Almost deserted.
Wen Chao’s girlfriend, Lingjiao, leans against Jiang Cheng’s locker, intent on her phone. Jiang Cheng contemplates turning and leaving, but his car keys are in his jacket pocket, and his jacket is in his locker. He takes a breath, squares his shoulders, and walks down the hall.
He doesn’t touch the girl, but he does snarl, “Move.”
She flicks a glance over his shoulder and then fixes her gaze on her phone. She snaps her gum and walks away.
When it’s over, Jiang Cheng hauls himself up and sags against his locker. He’s almost certain he didn’t cry, didn’t make any sounds aside from the air forced out when Wen Zhuliu punched him in the stomach. His vision is blurry, but he manages to get his locker open and retrieve his keys and his phone.
They didn’t take his bag, didn’t damage anything apart from his body. He hoists his bag up on his left shoulder and limps to his car. It’s dark, which means it’s much later than he expected. His car is parked in an isolated corner by the pool. He has to stop several times, to lean against lampposts, once to throw up, and when finally makes it to his car, it’s clear he’s in no condition to drive. He has to call someone, he knows that. He just needs to sit, to collect his thoughts.
When he can keep his eyes open for longer than a few seconds at a time, he thumbs the phone screen and scrolls through his contacts. He badly wants to send a text so he can pretend for just a little bit longer that he’s not at the edge of a cliff, that tomorrow, everything’s gonna go to hell, but everything hurts, and he’s so, so fucking tired.
“I’m at school,” he says when Wen Ning picks up. “Can you come get me?”
No one asks questions. Wen Ning drives, Wei Ying’s in the passenger seat, and Huaisang’s in the back, holding Jiang Cheng’s hand as if it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to this planet. Mingjue and Xichen get to the hospital minutes after they arrive. By some unearned luck, Wen Qing is free when they arrive at the ER. She leaves her brother and Wei Ying at reception to fill out any paperwork for Jiang Cheng and ushers Huaisang and Jiang Cheng into a private exam room.
Everything hurts -- the lights, Wen Qing’s gentle, yet thorough, examination of his injuries, Huaisang’s soft tears. If he had any energy left at all, Jiang Cheng would be dying of shame. He’s always had a little crush on Wen Qing, from the moment she became friends with Yanli, and to see him here, so weak...well, he’d deal with this humiliation another day.
When she finishes making notes in her chart, she sets it aside. She crosses her legs and keeps her hands in her lap. Jiang Cheng braces for a lecture, but she simply waits as Huaisang eases Jiang Cheng into his hoodie, kicking the blood-stained t-shirt he was wearing under a chair.
“Do you want to say anything first?” she asks when Jiang Cheng is settled back on a padded chair next to her work station.
Jiang Cheng shakes his head and clings to Huaisang’s hand.
Wen Qing sighs. “Alright. Well.” She looks at her chart, clearly gathering her thoughts before looking up at him. “I know how you feel about your parents being involved. Technically, since you’re able to give informed consent, I don’t have to call them, or anyone else, unless I suspect child abuse--”
“No! It’s not them!” Jiang Cheng grinds his teeth and breathes through the pain. He’d refused a shot but he was regretting that now.
“Alright, alright.” Wen Qing stares him down, but the fact that he came here with Mingjue and Xichen must have counted for something, because she didn’t push the issue further. “We won’t call, but since you’re still on their insurance—“
“Not if I pay, right? If I just pay for the visit?”
“Jiang Cheng!” Huaisang’s anguish hurts almost as much as the injuries, but Jiang Cheng grits his teeth and goes on.
“I have money. I’ll pay for this.”
“It’s not about the money, kiddo,” Wen Qing says. “We don’t have to submit this to your insurance.”
“Thank you.”
Wen Qing sighs when he remains silent but quickly replaces her Elder Sister concern with Resident Physician professionalism. “You’ll have to stay out of the pool until your cuts heal at least. Thankfully, none of them required stitches, so it should only be a couple weeks. I’ll write you a note to excuse you from phys ed as well.”
Jiang Cheng digs into his thigh with his free hand to distract himself. One fucking mistake, and his swimming season is over for the year. And he’s gonna have to tell his team, his coach, and —
“A-Cheng.”
He looks up and Wen Qing’s concern is humbling.
“Thank you,” he says again.
“Jiang Cheng.” She rubs her eyes. “You don’t have a concussion, but I still want someone to look after you tonight and tomorrow.”
“He’s staying with us,” Huaisang says, in that tone that brooks no argument. Wen Qing nods.
“How’s the pain?” she asks Jiang Cheng.
Jiang Cheng wants to lie, to say he’s fine, but he’s really, really not fine.
“Bad,” he whispers.
Wen Qing smiles at him. “There’s some honesty.” She retrieves a little cup with a few pills and fills a plastic cup with some water. “I’ll give you a bottle with enough of these for the next few days and write you a prescription for another two weeks. These are really powerful, so take them when you are going to be able to sleep.”
“Thank you,” Jiang Cheng mumbles, taking the proffered pills and water. It hurts to swallow, but he is grateful for them.
“Do you have any questions?” Wen Qing asks. “Or anything you want to tell me?”
Jiang Cheng shakes his head, though he instantly regrets it as a tide of nausea rises. He covers his mouth with his free hand and closes his eyes.
“Jiang Cheng.” Wen Qing crouches in front of him. “Kiddo.” She takes a breath. “Okay.” She pats his knee. “Huaisang, I’ll let your brother know he can take you home.”