Work Text:
"And see to it that you're getting enough rest," Mu Xiaoqing said, reaching out to pat a hand against Fei Du’s cheek. Her touch was firm, reassuring, and her words were pointed; she knew exactly what she was talking about.
(His mother's hand found his cheek, arching across the surface of a tiny cut on his cheekbone. It didn't hurt; he barely even felt her touch.)
"I'll do my best, mum," he answered, pushing aside the unwelcome memory. Her eyes met his once more and she nodded, clearly satisfied with whatever she saw. She was right to be— he wouldn't dare go against her words nor her good intentions. She'd know, and if she didn't then Luo Wenzhou would surely rat him out to avoid her motherly wrath for a different infraction.
"I know they're working you too hard," she complained, heedless of the fact that Fei Du was literally the boss, and technically there was no 'they'. "I know my son's schedule leaves a lot to be desired for your business lifestyle, but I raised him through school; I know he gets plenty of rest. Follow his example - a little won’t hurt."
She smiled at that, and Fei Du smiled in return. It was a gesture that had once been as easy as breathing in her presence; she was a family member to impress, someone with connections he may well be able to use. The ease had faded as rapidly as he wormed his way into Luo Wenzhou's home, leaving their interactions stilted and overwhelming.
It was easier again now. His lips lifted and her eyes shone, her hand returning to pat his shoulder. Warmth suffused through his chest; not for the first time, but just as surprising and gratifying as the last. She cared for him. He cared for her.
(He didn't feel much of anything at all - there was no uptick in his lips to match his mother's own, nor a corresponding lightness in his chest. Her smile faded, and her hand fell back to her side.)
Fei Du pushed the memory and all the coldness it brought as far away as he could, more forcefully this time. Mu Xiaoqing turned towards the door; he could only hope she hadn't picked up on it. "I'll see you again soon," he said.
She nodded, and even with her back to him he could hear the smile in her voice. "And next time I want to see you more alert," she chided. And then she was gone, heading out into the stairway and down onto the streets below.
Fei Du stood there for a little longer, staring into the emptiness. He took a step back from the door. Closed it. Closed his eyes.
His back pressed against the door. He knew, distantly, what he was meant to do here. He had a full checklist. He'd run through it what felt like a hundred times.
Fei Du squeezed his eyes shut tighter and pressed his hands over his ears. He could hear his mother moving around the apartment owned by a man who hadn't even lived here when she was alive. A smell filled the air: the scent of the flowers she kept around the place, never dictated by her.
("Have a good week at school," she said. Fei Du nodded. "Work hard." He turned to leave; he didn't want to be here anymore. Unusually, she reached out and caught the sleeve of his uniform. "Goodbye."
A light chuckle escaped Fei Du's lips, and he gently tugged his sleeve away. That was the last time she touched him before she died.)
Fei Du didn't know how long he sat there, knees pulled up to his chest. He hadn't thought to check what time it was when Mu Xiaoqing left; he hadn't thought he'd need to.
He didn't feel even half real again until something heavy and warm hit his chest, followed by a noise that had never filled the Fei house while his mother was still alive: Luo Yiguo wanted attention. Fei Du blinked, and after a moment managed to oblige, brushing a hand against Luo Yiguo's head a little clumsily. Strangely enough, the cat didn't seem to mind all that much.
He sat there for a while longer, Luo Yiguo refusing to sit down in his lap or move away until he'd received what he clearly deemed the appropriate amount of pets. The second Fei Du even entertained stopping, he'd rub his head against Fei Du’s chin even more insistently.
By the time he was satisfied, Fei Du felt a little more present. The smell of the laundry Luo Wenzhou did that morning drifted in, replacing the stale scent of that prison. The light was the dusk of evening rather than the pale dawn of a Sunday morning. Luo Yiguo was warm and present, and the sound of the streets below returned slowly.
He still felt a little like he was moving through cotton as he finally stood. His steps were unsteady, his mind full of the remnants of whatever that was.
He knew what it was. He just didn't want to think about it too much, or what had caused it. He was meant to avoid triggers; he didn't want to avoid Mu Xiaoqing.
He half stumbled back to the sofa, where his phone waited. He could distract himself with that, at least. Given any luck, his mind would settle back fully into the present before Luo Wenzhou made it back. In the worst logical scenario, Luo Wenzhou would return too quickly and he'd be the one to dispel the last of the fog clogging up his mind.
It turned out there was nothing he could do to keep his mind off her; not fully, anyway. The reminder had blindsided him completely, and no inane phone game could stop it from leaking into his heart.
His mother, who died far too young. His mother, who struggled alone—died alone—and Fei Du who found her.
When it happened, it felt unfair. He knew what it meant; he was supposed to find her, to see her. Her death was her final message to him, more final than that gentle clutch as his sleeve. It was her last chance to make it count, and he-
Luo Wenzhou's key clicked in the door, snapping Fei Du out of his mind’s plummet into the pit. With a start, Fei Du opened his mouth to greet him. He stopped; he knew before the first sound left his throat that he'd just sound wrong.
"Miss me, Feishir?" Luo Wenzhou was in a good mood. He wouldn't be, soon enough.
When he came into Fei Du’s line of sight, he feigned tiredness, closing his eyes and pressing one hand to his forehead. "I missed your loud voice," he grumbled. He didn't sound quite right, but maybe his words would allay some of the worry.
Luo Wenzhou chuckled. "You've just been there waiting?" he asked. He shoved Fei Du's shoulder; gently, but not so gently it betrayed caution. Good. "Go get some water, genius."
Fei Du nodded, pushing himself up. Maybe he could pass it off as a headache, avoiding any kind of difficult conversation about today. That would be best.
What happened today would happen again; it would probably keep happening for years or, more likely, the rest of his life. If Fei Du had Luo Wenzhou fretting over him every time, he'd worry him far more than necessary. He'd rather it be like this, with slightly unsteady steps to the kitchen to get a cup of water.
Unsurprisingly, it helped. He cupped his hands around the smooth surface, leaning against one of the kitchen counters as he sipped at it. Taking things slowly would help. Doing anything would help him get back into his head, even with how disjointed everything still felt.
When he was done, he put the cup in the sink and wandered back over to the living room. Something brushed his arm, but it didn't feel right. He put it out of his mind.
It was only when he saw Luo Wenzhou's eyebrows crease that he realised what brushed his arm was Luo Yiguo. At that point, it was probably too late to pretend.
"Fei Du." Luo Wenzhou's arms circled to form a weight against his waist; a comforting pressure without any of the insistence. He’d be insistent if Fei Du didn't explain, but he had no desire to hold back. The tiredness in his bones had stripped away every shield he normally had up. "How are you feeling?"
"Your mother visited today while you were out at work," he explained. Luo Wenzhou nodded; he'd planned to be here before work pulled him away.
"Did something happen?" Slowly, the body pressed against Fei Du's back pushed him, guiding him towards the sofa.
Once they were seated, Fei Du had the answer. "No.” It was nothing to do with her. Nothing that happened today did anything; it was all years in the past. "She was kind, as always. Insistent on me taking care of myself."
"Good." The hint of laughter in his voice thawed some of the ice in Fei Du's chest. "So what happened after she left?"
Fei Du couldn't fault his directness. How many times had they performed this song and dance? When would he learn to get to the point in the same way Luo Wenzhou always could? "I had a flashback." His fists clenched painfully in his lap. This never got easier; only Luo Wenzhou's arm, still steady around his waist, helped even a little. "Of my mother."
Luo Wenzhou nodded, not saying anything. Space to speak, space to think— whatever he needed. He shuffled away from Luo Wenzhou slightly, just for breathing room; he let him go, his eyes still fixed on Fei Du with concern painted all over his face.
"I miss her," he mumbled. Luo Wenzhou nodded; Fei Du couldn't imagine he'd actually heard. "She- I didn't know her. We had nothing."
They'd spoken more than once about how Fei Du was allegedly not as emotionless as he claimed to be. How his reaction to her death belied the bond they once had.
Fei Du wasn't convinced. He felt nothing when he thought of her - more nothing than he was used to, in these days full of light. In place of the warmth that filled his lungs when Mu Xiaoqing smiled at him was only water, drowning him over and over every time he remembered her fleeting touch, her muffled words.
He didn't remember the sound of her voice anymore. There was no recording of it worth mentioning, either; Fei Chengyu hadn't cared to preserve what remained of her.
"Fei Du." Luo Wenzhou's hand touched against his shoulder briefly; Fei Du jolted, then forced himself to hold very still. He didn't want Luo Wenzhou's touch to surprise him. He didn't want him to think it was unwelcome, he just-
"I don't think I can really miss her. I barely knew her." The words were barely different from before, but they were the truth. He knew the handful of things she'd done for him, the opportunities she'd granted without a thought for her own safety. He knew the ghost of her touch, nearly dragging him into the grave alongside her unwittingly.
He didn't know her family - he had certainly barely been part of it. He didn't know what she liked; he had no tales of her life to share, and no one to share them with. He didn't know what she did when she wasn't right in front of his eyes, and even those actions were beyond his understanding.
"You don't have to have known her to miss her," Luo Wenzhou said, still keeping his distance. "She was your mother. You decide how you feel about her, not some standard of whether you should."
Fei Du nodded. He did miss her, but it wasn't her. It was more... "I miss what we didn't have," he decided. It hurt to say. "With your mother, I- I never really understood what I lost before now. All the things I could have had, if we weren't..."
If they weren't trapped. If they weren't experiments in the hands of a much bigger, crueler man. If he hadn't been determined to warp them into something that couldn't be further from a family like Luo Wenzhou's.
"You were robbed," Luo Wenzhou said. It makes sense for you to feel this way, he didn't need to say. It was nice when his feelings made sense for once.
"She was robbed," he corrected. He hadn't lost anything - he never had it. He'd never even expected it. But when she first held him in her arms, had she anticipated the misery? Had she known what she would do for the crying child just to take a chance that he might not grow into a monster?
He couldn't know. There was no knowing the mind of a dead woman, no point in thinking that she might have had any hopes for him. She was gone.
She'd been gone for a long time. Fei Du was told soon after she died that it would get easier to deal with. It only got harder.
He hated being— vulnerable like this. Even with Luo Wenzhou, even after all this time, it made him feel like his mind was trying to break out of his body, his skin too tight for the thoughts rolling inside.
Luo Wenzhou looked into his eyes; Fei Du couldn't hold his gaze. His fingers ran against the hems of his trousers, over and over. It wasn't helping.
Luo Wenzhou didn't sigh. He reached out, and when Fei Du didn't shake his head he wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close. "Enough talking for tonight," he said. Fei Du nodded. "Did you eat between mum leaving and me coming back?" He shook his head. "Alright."
Fei Du raised his head. "I'm-"
Luo Wenzhou pressed a finger to Fei Du's lips, so gently he seemed to suck all the air from his lungs. "No apologies tonight," he said. "If you really need to apologise, it can happen tomorrow." Fei Du nodded; he probably should. He probably wouldn't when he felt like himself again - reason enough to follow Luo Wenzhou's words.
"You're tired?" Fei Du shrugged. He was, right down to his bones. But his limbs thrummed with exactly the wrong kind of energy. "Do you want to move to the bedroom?"
He turned the concept over in his head a few times, then nodded. Luo Wenzhou stood, then paused; Fei Du only realised what he was doing when his arms reached out to cup under his form. He batted his arms away halfheartedly, moving to stand on his own.
To Luo Wenzhou's credit, he was less steady on his feet than he'd imagined he'd be. It took a moment to get all the parts of his brain moving enough to cross even the short distance down the hall, Luo Wenzhou hovering close behind. When he could string a sentence together without it falling apart halfway through, he'd be sure to tease him for it.
The bedroom was dark. Luo Wenzhou skipped the lightswitch and went straight for the lamp on the bedside table, casting the room in a soft glow. Fei Du sat on the edge of his side of the bed, his feet on the ground. Luo Wenzhou, the doting busybody he delighted in being, fetched the recently dry laundry, plucking Fei Du's nightclothes from the pile and setting them at the end of the bed.
"I'm going to heat up the soup from last night," he said, half hovering in the doorway still. Fei Du nodded, not bothering to try and summon up an encouraging smile. It wouldn't help. "I'll be right back. Shout if you want me."
"Always," he shot back. It sounded weak, but Luo Wenzhou still let out a snort of laughter. Fei Du really was the luckiest man in the world.
It didn't take long for Luo Wenzhou to return, a bowl of soup in each hand. He pushed the door shut with his foot, blocking out a disconcerted Luo Yiguo as he went. "You can come in later if the master permits it," he chided, turning back towards Fei Du. "I'm going to hand you this."
"Don't you think I'll spill it on the sheets?" Fei Du teased, with exactly no intention of doing anything of the sort. He'd heard plenty of lectures from Luo Wenzhou about the trials of getting stains out of bed sheets; he didn't need to hear it again.
"Just take the soup." Luo Wenzhou pressed the warm bowl into his hands, coming to sit on the edge of the bed next to him. "You look a bit better."
Fei Du hummed. Maybe he was doing a little better; he probably found it harder to tell than Luo Wenzhou did.
He still didn't feel right, and he definitely didn't have anything resembling an appetite. But there was no way on earth Luo Wenzhou would let him not eat something, so he took the offered spoon and kept the bowl raised high with one hand.
Luo Wenzhou prattled away about things Fei Du only half listened to as they ate: the wild goose chase he and his team had been led on that day and the attitude Xiao Haiyang gave him when he thought Luo Wenzhou had forgotten something important (he had, but Xiao Haiyang didn't need to know that). Fei Du didn't know if he'd remember any of it within an hour, but it didn't matter.
It was companionable. It was real. It was now.
When their bowls were empty, Luo Wenzhou put them on the bedside table. "How are you doing now?"
Fei Du paused. "Better," he answered. Not quite there, but better. He'd need sleep before he felt like himself again.
The gaze Luo Wenzhou fixed him with was too difficult to interpret when he was this exhausted. He just kept- looking. With that expression Fei Du always assumed would be pity but was something else entirely.
He still wasn't used to it. How many months had it been, yet he still wasn't used to being seen rather than merely looked at? Luo Wenzhou saw when he was happy, when he was tired, when there was something wrong, when he got lost in his head-
A nudge jolted him very gently out of his thoughts. Speak of the devil. "You're determined to be somewhere else tonight," Luo Wenzhou grumbled. "You're not going anywhere."
"I wasn't intending to," he said. He'd barely moved all afternoon; he wasn't going to start just because there was soup in his stomach. "But if shixiong plans to enforce it..."
His lips quirked upwards as his eyes travelled down Luo Wenzhou's body. Luo Wenzhou swatted at his arm. "Absolutely shameless."
"Always." Fei Du maintained his smile, reaching for the (woefully) fastened buttons on Luo Wenzhou's shirt.
"Not a chance." Luo Wenzhou caught Fei Du's wrist in his hand, forcing him away. He didn't use much force, but Fei Du could work with that, not even attempting to keep his balance.
Naturally, he ended up with his back against the bed, looking up at Luo Wenzhou with an even more wicked smile on his face. He would win this one.
"You'll just fall asleep halfway through," Luo Wenzhou grumbled. In turn, his hands moved to Fei Du's clothing, finding his own task significantly easier than Fei Du's a moment before; Fei Du wasn't interested in stopping him at all.
"You say it, but you're still-" Luo Wenzhou's face took on a smug smile just before he turned away, and that was when Fei Du realised his mistake. A moment later, Luo Wenzhou turned back around, armed with Fei Du's least attractive set of pyjamas and a blanket. "Wenzhou..."
"No whining," Luo Wenzhou said, holding the pyjamas out. "Are you doing it, or am I?"
Ah well. If he wasn't going to win, he could at least have some fun. He sat up, holding his arms out to his cruel, cruel denier. "I'm too tired," he said, making sure to put as much petulant whining into his tone as he could.
Luo Wenzhou pulled a delightfully displeased face, and it was all Fei Du could do to stay in character and hold back his laughter. "Bastard," he said, sitting down next to Fei Du once more. He set the blanket to one side for now, unfolding the pyjamas and slipping the shirt over his shoulders, through Fei Du's arms one after the other.
Then he started on the buttons, fastening them one by one. Fei Du was fairly certain that some of the buttons on this particular set had never been done up until now, and Luo Wenzhou never put so much effort into dressing himself. But now he paid the utmost attention to every second of this task, never taking his eyes away from his fingers.
By the time he reached the button at the collar, he looked up into Fei Du's eyes, his expression just as smug as earlier. "Is this to your satisfaction, young master?"
Fei Du poked him in the forehead, and Luo Wenzhou flopped off the bed and onto the floor, feigning injury. Fei Du caught his wince and bit back a remark about his old man's knees; it would surely ruin their little game.
Luo Wenzhou moved quickly, snatching the trousers off the bed and sitting back on his haunches as he carefully (so gently - his fingertips barely even brushed Fei Du's skin, which was maddening and also appreciated, seeing as Luo Wenzhou was right; he really didn't have the energy for anything strenuous right now) finished dressing Fei Du. He looked very pleased with himself when he was done.
"Just one last thing to make sure you don't get any ideas," Luo Wenzhou said, and for a moment Fei Du was certain he'd get his handcuffs out again. He shuffled backwards to settle fully on the bed, knowing to find a comfortable position, when something heavy pressed against his shoulders.
He turned his head, brows furrowing, and then realised exactly what the blanket was for. Luo Wenzhou wrapped the thick, heavy fabric around his shoulders and torso, pinning his arms to his sides. Fei Du just watched him as he worked, unsure if his inability to respond was due to lack of will, surprise, or the tiredness that had settled deep in his bones.
When he was done, Luo Wenzhou didn't say anything, just moving to position Fei Du on his usual side of the bed and coming to join him at his side. "All comfortable?"
"The button at the top of the pyjamas is a little tight around my neck," Fei Du lied, craning the aforementioned neck that was absolutely not constricted by his pyjamas at all - the clothing wasn't even visible, all hidden under the tightly wrapped blanket.
Luo Wenzhou fixed him with a look. "Of course." And then, without giving Fei Du even a moment to react, unwound the blanket, undid the two uppermost buttons on the shirt, and wrapped him up again without a word.
Fei Du blinked. At this point he should probably be used to Luo Wenzhou’s surprises, but he still wasn't. He didn't know if he'd ever be; Luo Wenzhou always found some new way to be considerate, to work his way around the web of teasing and the maze of Fei Du's little performances.
He didn't know how long it would be until he worked out how he felt about that. But he knew, in that mortifyingly certain way he'd acquired since he truly came to know Luo Wenzhou, that he had all the time he needed to figure it out.
There were too many things in his head for that right now. Why couldn't each thing come up one at a time, instead of all at once in a flood of feelings he couldn't make sense of? Dealing with the immediate problem was the important thing, but how?
"Baobei, about today..." he started, hoping that by the time he reached the end of the sentence he'd have some kind of solution to pose. Perhaps fortunately, he didn't get to finish it.
"We'll sort something out tomorrow," Luo Wenzhou said, putting a finger over Fei Du's lips. "You look exhausted, I'm more surprised you haven't already passed out."
Putting it off was fine with him. The fact he couldn't discuss it right now was an infuriating signal that it would take a considerable amount of effort to 'sort it out' once he had the energy to even try, but for now he was happy to pretend it wasn't happening.
"If shixiong insists," he said, shuffling closer and leaning his head against Luo Wenzhou's chest.
"You'll get too hot if you sleep all bundled up like that," Luo Wenzhou said. "I'll get too hot with you against me." Fei Du hummed; Luo Wenzhou pulled him even closer. They'd deal with that one when it actually mattered.
For now, he let the last of the tense energy leak out of his bones, closing his eyes against the exhaustion that rolled against him like waves. Everything that caused this evening still waited for him when he woke up, but with Luo Wenzhou's arms around him he could put it aside for now.
The shadow that cast over his mind flickered out, eclipsed by the light always emanating from Luo Wenzhou's heart. Even with the pain he'd have to face, the next day was sure to be yet another bright one.
"You definitely want me to come with you?" Luo Wenzhou checked. Like he hadn’t been at Fei Du’s side every step of the way so far.
Fei Du glanced once more at the flowers held in his lap. "You've come every year before," he pointed out. Luo Wenzhou had the decency to look a little sheepish. "I could probably count the number of times I've come here more than you on my fingers."
"Alright, alright." Luo Wenzhou unbuckled his seatbelt and moved to get out of the car. "I'm coming."
"Good." Fei Du took his hand the moment they got into the graveyard, squeezing tight. He wanted him to be here. In a way, he was the reason for the half-unplanned visit.
Stupid Luo Wenzhou and his ridiculously loving family. If Fei Du had only been left to struggle on his own...
Well, he knew how that would have turned out. He would always be better for Luo Wenzhou's presence; that was why he, above anyone else, could be here now.
The walk wasn't long, but it wasn't short either. There was practically no one around - it wasn't a holiday, nor any kind of special date at all. They saw no more than a handful of visitors as they walked in near-silence, Luo Wenzhou's only words being to warn Fei Du just before he stepped in some kind of mess an animal had left behind.
The warning didn't come soon enough, and Fei Du's shoes that were even more expensive than they were shiny went straight into a pile of shit. With no one else around to hear it, he burst into laughter.
"Those aren't coming back into the apartment with shit all over them," Luo Wenzhou warned, and his tone was all 'why are you laughing in a graveyard,' but his expression was fond.
"I'll buy new ones," Fei Du said, putting on his airiest tone. "They're only-"
Luo Wenzhou groaned. "I don't want to hear it. Keep walking— it's animal shit, not a twisted ankle."
"But shixiong-"
"No pouting." Luo Wenzhou wasn't even looking at him. Fei Du pouted. "If you go on like this, it'll take hours."
He wouldn't mind even if it did, but he didn't need to say that. Fei Du already knew.
The space where Tian Baozhu's grave lay was completely deserted. With just the two of them there, Fei Du paused for a moment before he bent down, laying the flowers down carefully. Despite all the messing around on the way up, not a single petal on the bouquet was even touched by dirt.
Fei Du stood up straight again, taking a couple of steps back to once more stand at Luo Wenzhou's side. This time, they didn't hold hands; instead, Luo Wenzhou drew Fei Du closer with an arm around his waist.
Fei Du didn't have a tendency towards talking to the dead; they couldn't hear him. When he visited this place as a child, he was always accompanied by someone else - he couldn't speak his mind even if he wanted to.
Later, he came alone, but he still said nothing. Sometimes, he didn't even understand why he continued to visit; he just felt it was important. That she was important, even if he could count his good memories with her on a single hand.
It had been so long. He'd forgotten how to speak to her. Forgotten what she might say in reply, or what it would sound like. There was no real person in his mind - just a shadow of who she once was, an injustice he had no idea how to correct.
Fei Du closed his eyes, leaned his head against Luo Wenzhou's shoulder, and tried to remember her.
He couldn't; not really. He hadn't been all that young when she died, and there were photographs of her. He should remember what she looked like, beyond the image on her grave - his memory wasn't bad.
Except his memory of her was. His memory of Fei Chengyu was. Another thing stolen by a man who'd taken everything from her— she could barely even be remembered in death.
He did his best to shake the thoughts away. He was here to remember her as best he could, to pull away from all the sadness she'd left clouding his heart, not to get further lost in all the regrets.
"She wanted you to live," Luo Wenzhou said. Had there been even the slightest breeze, his words would have been caught by the wind and never found Fei Du's ears. "She'd be happy, seeing you now."
"Would she?" He almost whispered it, unable to manage anything more. He didn't know what made her happy; he just knew she'd never had it.
"Any parent worth having would be." Luo Wenzhou's hand moved, tracing a comforting pattern up his back. Fei Du did his best to be comforted. "She was a mother worth having."
"She never saw me become a son worth having." She would have, but she didn't. She had to die for him to even have the opportunity.
And now she was long gone. He was not.
They had never really been anything, and could never be anything in the future. The reality of that tore at his chest with a pain just as fresh as when he first opened the door to a house empty of life.
He'd carried that pain for years, unknowing of what it really was. And maybe it wouldn't ever go away, maybe he'd always regret it.
"I'm going to be happy," he promised, to someone who could not hear. "I'll live all the joy we couldn't have together."
When they began their slow walk back to the car, Fei Du didn't feel the ghost of a woman's final grip against his sleeve. The imaginary feather-light touch of her fingertips against his cheek didn't come.
All that remained was the fact of her care and the evidence of where it carried him. Fei Du smiled; in the end, her love carried him exactly where he needed to be.