Chapter Text
Unknown POV
Curls of smoke wisp around his lips, dance upwards in pretty swirls, intermingling with the puffs of foggy moist air every time he exhales. Standing against the antique shop window, ankles crossed, looking relaxed, at ease, he looks like one of the many shoppers out on the wintry streets with his black beanie pulled low over his head and a giant black scarf that comes almost to his chin. It keeps him concealed as he watches his target stuff his phone into his pocket and greet a passerby with a short wave.
Wei Wuxian jogs across the street from his apartment building, knocks on a car window with that shit eating grin on his stupid, smug face and jumps in, shucking the powdery white dusting of snow from his coat as he slams the door shut. He hates this man with a passion he never knew he had. He doesn’t bother paying attention to the driver, that isn’t his concern. He’s only here for the Wei kid. He waits for the idling car to pull away and disappear around the corner before he stubs out his cigarette and makes his way across, hesitating only slightly. He should have called his find in two months ago, should actually call this in now…but it wouldn’t matter if he succeeds in getting this done by himself first. He’ll probably even get a better bonus.
The building is old, no security at the front, no elevators, no cameras. He smirks to himself. This makes it so much easier. It was chance, really, that he managed to spot him after all this time, that too, while the kid was leaving some party off campus. It was purely coincidental that he had some work to do in that very neighborhood (the wife really was careless and she had a big mouth that she used for the wrong purposes), and he’d collected a huge sum for that thirty minute gig. He looked up, and what do you know… he could spot that face anywhere. It had pissed him off enough that he would never forget. Kid had disappeared so suddenly three years ago, smoothly slipping away from his grasp, like water between his fingers and he’d been searching since. His Boss hadn’t been too pleased that they lost him after the Jiangs’ kicked his ass to the curb.…he still had the scars to prove it. Kid knew how to lay low, he’d give him that.
He was a handful back then, still looked like a handful now. Wei Wuxian had made asses of them all, running circles around them, as if they were not trained professionals. It was damned insulting, downright humiliating. Then he jigged out of town. How dare Wei Wuxian build a life for himself here, as if he didn’t shake the foundations of an entire organization going so far as to involve the damned cops!, sticking his nose where it didn’t belong! Besides who he messed with, which he really should not have done, he’d also managed to piss off half the men on their team. Boss always collected. He’d watched this place religiously for the last two months, itching to finish this and finally make his Boss proud. They had paid good money for a private investigator to locate the weasel, but look, he’d done it all by himself. The bounty on Wei Wuxian’s head, dead or alive was friggn huge too! He would be a fool to leave him alive.
He had to be covert, subtle, they couldn’t risk Wei Wuxian fleeing again…This time, he would be the one to collect praise, respect and cash.
The third floor hallway is empty. Perfect…
Twisting his lockpick gently, he tugs, unlocks the door and slowly edges into the apartment. It’s small, everything is visible without having to turn any lights on, thanks to the thin curtains and the street lights. It’s a mess, like it’s owner. Paint everywhere…books on the floor, on the table…no damned food though. Ah well, he would have to make do. He can’t rush this like he wants to, but he can’t draw this out for too long either. He’d have to make it look natural, follow closely in the aftermath and get himself beautiful pictures in the morgue. He couldn’t wait to be on top of the food chain again...
Wei Ying:
It was a tough week.
Last night was the worst. Or was it this morning? He felt heavy, head aching miserably, eyes gritty.
Flu?
Now?
Really?
Wei Ying groans, swatting at the alarm, missing the snooze button for the third time. The tone and movement send spikes of pain through his skull, which the pillow he’s hiding under does little to alleviate. He thinks maybe he’s still hungover from studying late last night, but he knows it’s a lie. He’s been feeling this shitty for days. He shivers in the shower. Shivers after the shower. Shivers while he dresses. Shivers on his way to class, the coat and hoodie do nothing to ward of the chill that has settled deep in his achy bones.
In denial, he hopes he’s shivering a lot since it’s winter and not because he’s getting sick. Damn it, but no, Wei Ying most definitely isn’t about to start on his holidays feeling like this.
It’s a vain hope and he knows it.
He doesn’t miss his morning coffee, not when his stomach rolls with every move he makes. Sipping gingerly from the last bottled water he grabs off the counter, he grimaces and swallows, turning the cap and stuffing it into the side pocket on his bag. Almost tumbling down the staircase, he manages to gain his balance at the last moment and he tells himself that the thundering in his chest is fright, nothing more. Feet dragging the rest of the way, Wei Ying almost doesn’t make it to campus on time. He calls out a greeting to his friends, very subdued compared to his usual hyper-energetic style and doesn’t see them throw weird looks his way. He glares at the pages in front of him during the exam wondering what the hell he’d done all year, barely managing to focus on the letters that forms words he should know. He knuckles at his temples, takes a deep breath to calm his stomach and struggles valiantly to concentrate on his last damned paper. This past week had been hell, literally. The only thing he had to look forward to was the upcoming break. He planned to use it to sleep. Indefinitely. He couldn’t think further than that. Didn’t want to.
He sighs, less dramatically than he does every other day, because he’s so tired his tired is tired. The tick tock of the clock seems too loud in the quiet room and when he glances at it, time seems to have passed really oddly, because he’s got no more questions to answer and he still has over an hour left to write. He shouldn’t be done this fast, but he can’t bring himself to bother with it. Wei Ying double checks what he’s put down. Or he hopes he does. Skimming through the paper makes his head spin. Everything blends together like the colors in a kaleidoscope, the professor, the students, the classroom, the scratchy pencils and powdery paper, desks and shapes and disgruntled muttering. His eyes burn, watery and sore. Mind drifts and he finds it hard to reel it in. He has no idea how he’s gotten through this paper. He hopes he hasn’t flunked.
Wei Ying doesn’t have any plans today except for meeting up with Lan Zhan later. Maybe he could crash there for a couple hours… Lan Zhan doesn’t celebrate Christmas so there’ll be no decorations, but his couch is way more comfortable.
Lan Xichen, Lan Zhan’s older brother lives there too but he never minds Wei Ying in their space. It’s not like Wei Ying has anywhere to go for the holidays. It not like his family would invite him to spend any time with them this year either. Not like they miss him. He should have already pushed it out of his mind like he did the last few years, but his brain has plans of its own. It makes him wish for things to be the way they used to be. Winter always gives him melancholic vibes, makes him feel alone. Reminds him that he is a big, useless disappointment who is the lowest thing anyone would want around, as if he has absolutely nothing worthy to offer. The past three years have been difficult, but he’s settled into the quiet. He doesn’t know why his mind is so bent today, stirring up things that he tries so hard not to remember. Probably because everything hurts right now, and thinking about that hurts too…misery does kinda love company. He’s stuck in that moment when it all went to shit, when instead of listening to him they’d taken what he tried to explain and turned it against him.
Told him to go.
Let him go.
Then wrote him off.
Severed all ties and cast him aside like a pariah.
Just when he’d needed them…Anger and sadness clash together for a heartbeat and Wei Ying thinks he probably deserved it…deserves it. He’s never been good at being good. The words ‘troublemaker’ and ‘disappointment’ had always been the first and last things he heard every day. Madam Yu made sure that he always knew what she thought of him, that he was a leech, a freeloading, soul-sucking waste of space from the moment he’d been adopted into the Jiang family. His brother sometimes agreed, mostly because they were brothers and that’s what brothers did, right? But it never hurt any less when Jiang Cheng was the one repeating his mother’s words to him when he was pissed.
So yeah, why would they listen to him then when they never had before? His beloved sister…that was the last straw, the one that broke the camel’s back, so to speak. She’d given him ‘that’ look when everything happened. Shook her head and looked ‘away’. It was worse than if she had spoken any words. It had quelled the fight in him, made him step away, and keep walking until he was far away from them. And they hadn’t stopped him. Yanli Jie was perfect in every way. She had been the one to shower him with affection as he grew, the only one who held his hand when nightmares woke him screaming in the middle of the night, but if she’d left his side, then what was he really, if not the things they called him? Regardless, he still thought of them as family. What, if ever, did they think of him?
Wei Ying snaps back to the present and finds himself at the front table, blood rushing in his ears, a tuneless drumbeat in his head that he struggles to block out. He hands his paper in and leaves the class, ignoring the frown on the invigilator’s face. He’s aware that he’s dragging his backpack on the ground instead of slinging it over his shoulder but he couldn’t muster the strength to lift it higher. He doesn’t know why it weighs a ton today, it’s practically empty.
Wei Ying nears the cafeteria and hurries past it, the smell of fast foods and coffee that would usually have him making a quick stop at any other time now make his stomach roll instead. He slips into the restroom, abandoning his bag on the floor and rushes for the taps. A quick splash of icy water clears the nausea a little, but makes his headache spike. For a moment he whites out, staring blankly at the mirror, seeing nothing but fog and smears. He comes back to himself with a slow blink, wet fingers sliding dangerously on the edge of the sink. He’s so out of sorts, brain like porridge. Can’t seem to hold any tangible thought for long. Somewhere deep inside, he knows his behavior is wrong.
He should seek help, but he can’t follow through with it because he keeps losing time and trying to catch up to it. Holding out a hand, he scrabbles for the wall and slides down breathing hard. Swallowing thickly, Wei Ying tugs the red hairband loose from his short ponytail and for a tiny blissful second, the strain on his scalp lessens. And then its back, stinging and crawling and tightness that feels like someone has a vice over his head and is currently squeezing it for all its worth. Damp hair falls forward like a curtain over his face, sticking to his cheeks, to the back and sides of his neck. Small rivulets run past his chin and down his throat, V in his hoodie soaking it up greedily. When did he get so wet? He doesn’t bother to wipe it away. Thin shivers wrack his body and Wei Ying takes a minute to steady himself, unaware that he’s failing. He remembers his phone, just needs to send out a quick message and everything would be ok. Lan Zhan would make it OK. He puts a hand into his pocket and drifts.
He’d been achy and miserable these last couple days. Hadn’t managed to sleep much, walked around with a perpetual headache and barely tolerated solid food. He’d stuck to a diet of instant soup and noodle cups to sooth his iffy stomach, but he hadn’t been able to keep much down. Figuring once the stress of exams were over, he’d be able to catch up on much needed food and rest and let his system reboot, he let it go.
Exams were done. He just needs to make it home now. The phone, when he remembers it, is a heavy weight in his hand. Wei Ying swipes at the screen and it’s burns his retinas. Its like staring into the sun, and the glare sends barbs of pain throughout his head. He’d been avoiding it for this very reason, having cut his texting down from one paragraph to one line, to one word just so he could read what was written in his books after glancing at a message. His eyes water even as his fingers shake over the app. He refuses to make a call and disturb Lan Zhan incase he isn’t yet finished in class, but he types what he hopes is a legible message.
1:15pm
BESTIE: Fin me In the rstrm pls Ned hlp.
His head thunks back against the wall. He floats.
Its hot.
Its cold.
Its…what is it?
He needs to be…somewhere. A sense of urgency fills Wei Ying.
Where’s here?
Why’s he here?
“Lan Zhan…” He mumbles breathless and afraid.
He needs to find him. He’ll know what to do.
Trying to lift up from his ungainly position is no easy feat. His balance is off, feet slipping on the tiles. Slowly looking around, he takes one cautious step then another, seeing…toilets? Sink? Urinal?
He trips over his bag, lands hard on one knee, lurches forward, barely breaking his fall with unsteady hands. Something crunches between his fingers, palms stinging. He stares at the thing he’s holding as if it’s an alien come to abduct him. Uncomprehending, he shakes himself to clear the cobwebs in his brain. Wei Ying has been a lot of things before, but this kind of behavior was a thing of the past, when alcohol was a friend and sanity was frowned upon.
His brain now though…Its cloudy. Limbs heavy and uncooperative, just the way cloudy brain likes it.
Gingerly, he lugs his bag towards him, sticks the object into one of his many coat pockets and wipes his sweaty forehead with the same sticky hand. A distant part of him balks in disgust at wiping dirty restroom floor germs on his face, the other equally distant part does not give a shit. It takes him two tries to swing the bag over his shoulder and stumble out the door. He needs to find Lan Zhan. It’s the only thing he can grasp, the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. He doesn’t know why he’s so desperate to find him, but Lan Zhan always promised safety, promised comfort, promised to be there when Wei Ying needs him. Lan Zhan always knows what he needs, even when he doesn’t know himself.
A couple of guys yell out in greeting as he exits the building but he ignores them in favor of using his hand to shield his eyes against the bright glare of the winter sky. His mind is set on one track only. Find Lan Zhan…
The winter sun makes his head pound harder. Someone laughs as he weaves though the pathway. Says something to him about getting an early start with the booze. He wonders who’s dumb enough to start drinking on campus grounds during finals. Grunts a reply and wanders off.
He fumbles with his hood, trying to bring it over his head to add cover to his eyes and relieve the nausea building from the brightness and pain.
Idiots drinking on campus… Wei Ying hasn’t had a drink in three years. He’s…proud of himself. Because Lan Zhan said he should be.
He manages to get the hood halfway there and gives up, puts a hand to his forehead to shade his eyes instead. It’s tinted red in the sunlight, but blissfully cool. He’s so relieved at the sensation that he misses a step and almost tumbles off the walkway.
The fifteen minute walk feels like a lifetime. He thinks he may have aged to a hundred the way he’s weaving through people to get…where?
Oh, yeah. Lan Zhan will come find him in the restroom.
He just…has to get to the restroom…
Wei Ying stops and considers his location.
Was he…where’s the restroom?
Wait…Lan Zhan has a car.
He’ll just go meet him at the car then. The car has a heater and its cold. Outside is cold. And he is already outside, right? Somehow…
And then its hot. But Lan Zhan has air conditioning too…
There’s a wall. He leans into it gratefully. He pulls out the water bottle from the side pocket on his bag, parched. There isn’t much in it, but he takes a small sip, swishes it around his mouth and swallows. It’s painful, nauseating. His mouth s still dry afterwards. Its dark, and then it isn’t. Wei Ying’s head spins in confusion. Huh?
Its too early for this shit, or maybe late? Maybe he’ll just…he tucks the bottle back into its pocket, hands trembling. Man he’s getting tired just thinking.
He’s cold.
And hot.
His peripheral catches a glint of metal. Its attached to a black and brown moving mountain of fur. He hears the rumble of a growl before the full force of its bark hits Wei Ying and steals the breath right out of his lungs. His heart jumps to his throat, terror consuming him.
Just like that, he’s flung back in time.
A little boy, a little lost, and very, very alone.
He clenches his fists, the burn along his torn skin in the present fuses dramatically into the torn skin from his past. Wei Ying stares at it, caught in the memory. He has food in that hand. Food he’s scoured the city for, for hours. It’s mere scraps, but his little body needs something to fuel it. The beasts are on him before his first bite. Yanking, tearing, biting. He’s screaming. Kicking and screaming, fighting back with all he has. Bared teeth snap at him, clamp onto his flesh.
He shakes with the motion of the beast’s head. Small fingers tear at fur, feet pushing against a weight too heavy for him to win against.
Just as quickly, the food is gone.
The beasts are gone.
Wei Ying is sobbing on the side of the street, gathering all his strength so he can to run to safety, but he realizes with disappointment and frustration that Lan Zhan’s car has got to be the other way.
And…
His mind flips back and forth, thoughts interloping, mashing, confusing. His steps falter.
He spirals again. He’s nine and fighting with his life for a piece of green, moulded bread, a half eaten take out meal with maggots as a side dish, so desperate he fights for it until he’s bleeding…
Wei Ying finds himself on his knees, a string of bile falling from his lips and his stomach knotting in cramps. There’s a bush beneath his chin, knees on the cold sidewalk, and people staring. He looks around. Looks up. The world tilts and swims, undulates lazily.
He wants to cry. Where is the car? Maybe Lan Zhan has parked it at home…Yeah, he needed to get home. Nobody else wants him, but his best friend wouldn’t abandon him. He recognizes the street he’s on. Lan Zhan’s apartment is close, closer than his own. And Wei Ying is so tired...
He’ll be safe there. He is safe there.
He has keys…
Wei Ying finds his feet and stumbles along gracelessly, anxious to find Lan Zhan. He’ll know what to do. He always knew what to do. He’d make Wei Ying’s headache go away. Make him feel better. Muscle memory leads him towards safety.
To Lan Zhan.
He has just one destination in mind and he continues towards it with dogged determination, heedless of the unsent message still waiting on his broken screen. Unaware that said phone is still on silent after his exam. Uncaring that people are staring at him as if he’s a mental patient who escaped. He has bloody streaks on his face, his feet are unsteady, he’s disheveled and wild eyed as he make his way into the building he knows well, oblivious to everything but the mantra on his lips.
Lan Zhan.
______________________________________________________________________
UNKNOWN POV
He can’t contain his glee as he snaps the second pic. The kid looks drunk, and well, high as a kite. He’d caught him leaving the university and followed close behind, grinning to himself all the way. Boss is going to love this. He is surprised that his plan took this many days to come to fruition. Kid probably has a lucky rabbit’s foot stuck up his ass. Chuckling at his screen, he hits record, following the live action as it happens, giving his own running commentary like he’s a reporter chasing a story. Wei Wuxian is weaving in and out of traffic, pushing past people, stumbling around like a madman and muttering to himself the whole time. He still never shuts up, the idiot. Wei Wuxian suddenly stops moving, staring at a….dog? and then without warning he’s running. He was fast. Even like this, he was fast. Because the few moments he takes to judge the distance between them while staring at his screen is enough to lose him on the four-way. Bent over at the waist, he huffs until he catches his breath, then decides that he had enough enjoyment for today and proceeds to get himself something to eat. He’ll just go wait outside the apartment. Not like he has anything better to do. He wonders who would find the body. From what he caught on the campus, they were closing for the holidays in a few days. The Jiangs’ had already cast him away, and nobody really gave a shit except one friend who came by occasionally. Maybe that friend would be honored with the task of his burial. He laughs to himself, deciding where to get his food from, strolling happily down the street whistling his favorite tune. It’s cold out, maybe he’ll take his time and eat in, order a nice big something to burn off while he shivers his ass off later. Aah, but for now, its such a good day.
_________________________________________________________________________
Lan Zhan:
Finals are over and Lan Zhan hasn’t seen his best friend since the weekend, both of them choosing to study separately and finish up their individual projects before the semester comes to a halt. They run on different schedules, live in separate off campus accommodations, Lan Zhan with his older brother and Wei Ying, alone in a small studio apartment a couple blocks down from him. Twice a week they have morning classes at the same time so Wei Ying would swing by his place and they’d drive in together. If the weather is good, they walk, stop for coffee on the way. For the rest of the week they meet between class in hallways or during breaks, sometimes catching up on the way home or just after. During the day, and almost half the night, a steady stream of messages keeps him entertained. They have breakfast together occasionally; lunch sometimes, but dinner together almost every night, unless Wei Ying has some commissioned art pieces to complete. In which case he receives a dozen unneeded apologies and about twenty sad emojis. Lan Zhan can’t begrudge him that, its Wei Ying’s job after all, and it pays his tuition and his rent. And he is so great at it.
Its Thursday afternoon now and the texts that usually flood his phone have been a slow trickle this week. It is expected that Wei Ying would cover up for it after his paper.
There is relief on almost all the faces that he passes on his way out of the building, some already yelling plans across the parking lot to each other for the upcoming holidays. A cacophony of ‘text me, call me later, catch you in the evening, party!!’ flies over his head as he unlocks his car, placing his backpack on the floor behind his seat. He scrolls over his messages, frowning at the screen before placing it on the holder and connecting to Bluetooth. Looking around, he scans the lot for a familiar face, eyeing his phone for a message, or missed call, scowling when he finds neither. Wei Ying has not texted him.
“Call Wei Ying.” He tells the device.
They had made arrangements to meet here when they spoke the other day, and although he wasn’t really late, he was still eager to see Wei Ying.
The call goes to voicemail. He checks the clock again to make sure he read the time correctly. He did. It is ten past four. A little later than he usually is, but he had to drop off some books at the library so he’d texted Wei Ying before he went. Which meant that Wei Ying should have been here already, sitting on his trunk, feet dangling off the end and complaining dramatically about time keeping. But he isn’t. Because he isn’t here…A sliver of unease crawls up and down his spine. He doesn’t know why he needs to see Wei Ying suddenly, to know he’s alright.
Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, he takes the phone off the holder and sends another quick message to him.
It goes through like the previous messages.
And stays unread, he realizes with a start, just like the previous messages.
Wei Ying always has his phone switched on, replies to every call or text from Lan Zhan, even if it is just an emoji. He gets out of the car and scans the lot for the dark head, worriedly biting his lower lip.
Wei Ying is loud, brash and shameless. He is impulsive. Witty. Playful. Laughter precedes him, and then follows in his wake. He is sunlight concentrate, bottled lightning. He’s all brightness and life stuffed in a human vessel that can barely contain him. He is beautiful inside and out, the calm in a storm and the chaos of it together. He’s fiercely loyal, good, even to strangers. And so very kind. Every day, through anything and everything, what he goes through or has gone through, Wei Ying always sports a smile that’s wide and inviting, a grin so contagious others are drawn in by it, a laugh so addictive you can hear it even when you can’t see him. And he never breaks a promise. Not to Lan Zhan. Not since he knew him. If he said he’d be here at whatever time, he would be there. If he couldn’t make it, he’d call or text. He never ‘not’ pitched.
Making up his mind, he speed walks back to the doors of the building where he spies Qin Su and her friend Lily crouched near the exit, exchanging items from their bags.
“Hey. Have you guys seen Wei Ying?” He asks awkwardly.
Both of them stop what they’re doing and stare. They know him, he knows them, but he’d never once initiated conversation with either of the girls. They were Wei Ying’s friends, and so sometimes they greeted each other in passing, Wei Ying with a barrage of words, them with small hand waves, and Lan Zhan with a nod.
“Uh,” Qin Su looks at Lily, turns back to him frowning. “He finished his paper early. Left a few hours ago.” She tells him hesitantly.
A few hours ago...Maybe he’d gone ahead and left without him. How many was a few? Did he go home to get some rest?
Lan Zhan doesn’t believe that Wei Ying would just not let him know either way. Which is why the feeling in his gut intensifies. Something is wrong here.
“Thanks.” He swivels to go when Lily’s voice stops him.
“He looked kinda off today. Quiet. Tired.” She squints up at him. “He looked…um, unwell.”
Lan Zhan nods again, his thanks silent this time, worry a heavy weight on his shoulders as he trots back to his car, the feeling of unease turning slowly to a heavy knot sitting low in his belly.
Unwell…Wei Ying, is. Unwell.
He knows somehow, that Wei Ying isn’t at his own apartment before he even arrives. He needs to check anyway. Lan Zhan uses his spare key to get inside but a quick look around the tiny cluttered space shows it to be empty. The easel at the window is without a canvas, the paints that usually litter the floor are stacked in a haphazard row against the wall. There are papers on the desk, more papers spilling onto the floor around it, one sock on the couch the other half underneath it and a blanket slung over one armrest. His room is a mess, clothes half in, half out of the closet, but that’s not unusual, the bed is still rumpled, curtains still drawn, two half empty water bottles on the small side table. There is one barely touched noodle cup sitting half opened on the sink, already dried around the edges, a tin of instant soup that’s lying sideways on the counter, still sealed and a can of some generic energy drink that still almost full. The sink too, looks untouched. No coffee cups, no used teabags, not even a water glass is out. He closes the door behind him, locks it and drives home, shoulders tense.
Where is Wei Ying?