Chapter Text
The first person who ever truly held Hua Sheng was Shen Wenlang.
“Take him.”
There was no warmth in Hua Yong’s voice, his touch quick and clinical as he placed the swaddled bundle in the Alpha’s arms and his eyes never leaving the door behind which Sheng Shaoyou was losing the battle for his life.
The Enigma didn’t wait to see if the baby had settled, his body already turning towards the exit the moment the anxious Alpha reflexively held out his arms and just so managing a miniscule nod before he was already striding out of the room.
Shen Wenlang didn’t need to look at the nurses to feel their outrage and shock at such a heartless display, and if he hadn’t known Hua Yong for almost his entire life, he might have also believed that the Enigma didn’t care for his son at all.
Shen Wenlang knew better, though.
“Take him.”
Two words.
Two words a terrified man had somehow found the air to utter despite the fact that he was drowning in swirling sea of panic and despair.
To the nurses, it had seemed careless and cold.
To Shen Wenlang, who knew deep down that Hua Yong’s capacity to care for others was almost entirely limited to the ways in which they were tied to Sheng Shaoyou, these two words were the epitome of fatherly devotion that Hua Yong was capable of.
Of course, Hua Sheng didn’t know that the man who’d barely even spared him a glance had already given him all the affection and care he had to give – nor did he know that the parent who had been so ready to shower him with warmth and affection might never be able to hold him at all.
Then again, as he looked down at the shockingly tiny and softly mewling bundle in his arms, Shen Wenlang figured that Xiao Hua Sheng needed to know one thing and one thing only.
He was loved.
If ... no .... when Sheng Shaoyou recovered, he would be able to show him exactly that.
For now, however, Shen Wenlang was going to hold down the fort, and he was going to do it with everything he had because he had promised.
No matter how long it took.
No matter how much staring down at the red, squishy, ugly, and utterly perfect little baby in his arms made him feel as though he’d been flayed alive and then torn apart from the inside out.
No.
No.
He wasn’t going to think of them.
They were gone.
They had left him.
No.
They hadn’t left him.
It had been his fault.
His mistake.
They had not left him, they had been driven away by the worst mistake he’d ever made, and Shen Wenlang wasn’t going to think of them.
He definitely wasn’t going to think of ...
Him?
Her?
Him.
He wasn’t sure how he knew, wasn’t sure why the thought of a little 她 made him sigh wistfully at the promise of an uncertain future but the thought of a little 他 made his heart twist so painfully it felt as though he could barely breathe.
He knew, though – no matter how much he was trying not to.
He wasn’t going to think of them though.
Not of the man who’d owned his heart for far longer than he was ready to admit to himself and most certainly not of the little one – his son – whom he was never going to cradle close to his chest to love, cherish, and promise him the world.
For a moment, his gaze drifted towards the door behind which his keen S-tier Alpha senses could barely make out the sounds of frantic voices and the ominous beeping of machines and his stomach clenched at the thought that the little one he couldn’t bear to think of had entered the world in a just as painful, agonizing, and terrifying way.
Of course there was pain, you stupid fool.
You left him to suffer in agony by himself, didn’t you?
Gao Tu.
His calm, dependable, smart, kind, strong, enduring Gao Tu.
His precious, beloved, and so desperately yearned for Gao Tu.
He’d been trying so hard not to think about the passage of time, had avoided looking at his calendar for weeks, and he’d drowned himself in a sea of alcohol and despair on the night of the date he’d been trying so desperately to forget.
He knew that babies rarely came on their due dates, of course, but he couldn’t quite imagine his punctual, loyal, and diligent Gao Tu missing a deadline for the first time in his life.
There was no doubt about it.
Even if Shen Wenlang hadn’t known the exact date of the night that had ruined everything, he’d still borne helpless and utterly clueless witness to weeks of his poor beloved being caught in the clutches of morning sickness, so he was absolutely certain that Gao Tu had to have been at least four, if not more weeks ahead of Sheng Shaoyou’s pregnancy.
Of course, Hua Sheng had made his entrance almost a month ahead of schedule, but that still meant that Gao Tu must have had the baby by now.
Had he cried for Wenlang while bringing their child into the world?
Had he cursed the name of the Alpha who’d brought him nothing but unspeakable grief and agony?
Was he holding their baby right now, looking down at his soft, precious face and wishing Shen Wenlang was there just as desperately as the Alpha wished to be reunited with him?
Had he survived the birth at all?
No! Don’t! Don’t think!
It was useless, though, the echo of Sheng Shaoyou’s bloodcurdling screams and the raw panic in Hua Yong’s eyes serving as the world’s most cruel inspiration as he imagined Gao Tu writhing on a bed, his skin ashen from the pain, his hospital gown drenched in sweat and clinging to his swollen belly, and the sheets beneath him soaked in blood.
Had he bitten his lips bloody as he’d suffered through wave after wave of brutal agony?
His lips were bitten bloody after you were done with him, too.
It wasn’t the only blood you drew that night, was it?
No.
Enough.
He couldn’t do this.
He’d promised.
He’d fucking promised.
Exhaling shakily, Shen Wenlang blinked back tears as he looked down at the little one in his arms once more, and though he’d never once held a baby in his life, he found himself rocking him almost automatically, his movements slow and gentle and completely betraying the stormy sea of misery raging in his heart.
“Hello, xiao baobao. I’m your ... your ...”
He swallowed heavily, his heart thumping painfully against his ribcage as more tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.
“Actually, I’m not quite sure yet what I’m going to be to you. Your father has decided that you will call me Wenlang Baba, but I don’t think I ... I just don’t know if I’ll be able to bear it, Hua Sheng.”
The baby cooed softly, his eyes closed and his shockingly long eyelashes fluttering against chubby cheeks, and Shen Wenlang sighed, carefully lowering himself into a chair because his knees suddenly felt weak.
“It’s nothing personal, Xiao Hua Sheng. It doesn’t mean I won’t love and protect you just as fiercely, but I just ... I wasn’t supposed to be Wenlang Baba, little one. I was supposed to be ... I could have been ... I should be Baba! I threw it all away though and I ... I ...”
His breath hitched as more tears started falling, and if it hadn’t been for the grounding, innocent, and warm presence tightly snuggled in his arms, the Alpha wasn’t quite sure he would have been able to keep himself from completely falling apart.
“I miss him, Xiao Hua Sheng. I miss him so damn much and I ... I miss both of them! Does that even make sense? Hell, I don’t even know my son, but the thought that I’ll never get to meet him feels like ... like ... how am I even supposed to go on, anymore?”
He was sobbing brokenly now, staring down at the baby through eyes made blurry by tears and giving him a desperate, helpless look.
“I just don’t know what to do, xiao baobao. I know that you’re probably the last person who can help me with this but ... who even cares at this point, it’s not like I haven’t already asked everyone else I know and all they could give me was shrugs and silence!”
Also, you had it coming and you deserve it, but Shen Wenlang wasn’t going to burden Hua Sheng with the harsh truths that his parents in particular had dealt out to him when he’d been at his lowest.
“Can you tell me what to do, Hua Sheng? Can you tell me if my son is okay, at least? You know, don’t you? I’m sure you little ones must have some kind of ... hell, I don’t even know ... some kind of psychic connection while you’re still in the womb or something! Something like a weird in-between place at the threshold of life and death that only the unborn can access? You’ve met my son, haven’t you? Please, Hua Sheng, just tell me if he’s alright ... that’s all I ask! Please!”
Careful, Wenlang. You’re losing it again.
He squeezed his eyes shut, his chest tightening at the fear of slipping back into that horrible, mindless state that had tormented him at the height of his mate seeking syndrome and forcing himself to take slow, steady breaths.
Get a grip, you fool. The little one’s already got one father at the brink of death and the other threatening to follow him wherever he goes, he doesn’t need you falling into the abyss as well.
One breath in.
One breath out.
Slowly, steadily, Shen Wenlang regained control of himself, blinking against the moisture in his eyes and letting out a soft gasp in surprise when he looked down again and saw that Hua Sheng was wide awake.
“Sorry, little one. I didn’t mean to disturb you,” the Alpha said apologetically, gently caressing the baby’s soft hair and then lightly stroking his finger across his tiny hand.
“I just need the universe to give me a sign, you know? Just one, doesn’t matter how small. I just ... I’ll find a way to live without them, somehow, but I must know that they’re going to be okay.”
Hua Sheng didn’t give him a sign, though.
Instead, he stared up at him without blinking, and even if he hadn’t popped out as a carbon copy of Hua Yong, his astonishingly intense gaze would have left no room whatsoever to doubt the baby’s paternity.
“You’re judging me, aren’t you little one? You can’t even see me properly yet, but you already know you just got handed off to the biggest fool on the planet, don’t you?” Shen Wenlang said softly, his lips forming into a tiny smile despite his heartbreak when the baby’s lips curled as though he’d understood every word.
The Alpha chuckled bitterly, wiping a hand across his face and heaving out a resigned sigh.
“I know, baobao. I’m sorry. I’m trying to be better though. I swear I am,” he continued, cradling the baby closer and shaking his head wistfully.
“I didn’t get the chance to be better for my own son, but I promise you that I’ll try to be the best godfather to you that I could possibly be!”
He sighed again, inspecting the baby’s features more closely and letting out a soft sound that was almost but not quite a laugh.
“To tell you the truth, in the past couple of months I’ve often questioned whether I’d ever be able to be in the same room with you, let alone hold you or take care of you. I’m a jealous man, little one, and watching your father play happy house with your Baba even though it has always been clear that he wasn’t ready to welcome a son but merely another manifestation of his obsession with his beloved Sheng Xiansheng ... he doesn’t deserve this, baobao. I’m sorry to be blunt, but he doesn’t deserve you.”
He winced, swallowing down the bitter nausea that had bubbled up in his gut at the reminder of the envy that had been eating at him for months.
“I’m sorry. That was unfair, wasn’t it? It’s not like I don’t think your father deserves happiness ... frankly, given all the shit he was put through as a child, it’s surprising he even has the capacity to love your Baba at all – trust me when I say that I speak from experience. It’s just ...”
He bit his lip, meeting the baby’s intense stare and hoping to all the deities that not even Hua Yong’s crazy Enigma genes would make it possible for his offspring to remember anything said to him in the deceptive quiet of his first tumultuous night on earth.
“I guess I’m just a little envious because it’s so obvious that Hua Yong never actually wanted to be a father. He wanted to get Sheng Shaoyou pregnant, sure, but I really don’t think he ever actually wanted a child. To be fair, for the longest time I did not want to be a father, either, but that was because ... well ...”
He was undoubtedly going to end up getting a headache from all this crying, but Shen Wenlang couldn’t quite help it, his eyes tearing up again as his head filled with images and fantasies that he’d tried his hardest to suppress during the day and that had endlessly tormented him at night for the past seven months.
Gao Tu, turning towards him with a questioning smile and gently teasing him about his sad beige parenting aesthetic while resting a pair of beige baby booties and a pair of brightly colored ones on top of his barely-there baby bump.
Gao Tu, trying and failing to fasten his biggest pair of dress pants over his growing tummy and rolling his eyes at the Alpha in the mirror when he stepped up behind him, covered the soft swell with both of his hands, and suggested it was a sign from the universe that he should just stop working altogether and stay home to rest.
Gao Tu, standing in the kitchen and making tea while humming softly and gently caressing his belly.
Gao Tu, letting out a soft gasp and reaching for Shen Wenlang’s hand to press it against the side of his stomach, the two of them holding their breath in unison until the Alpha, too, felt the first unmistakable kick of their little one.
Gao Tu, looking down at him with a peaceful smile and carding his fingers through the Alpha’s hair as Shen Wenlang dotted a line of butterfly kisses over his swollen stomach.
Gao Tu, looking up at him with flushed cheeks as he held up his arms to welcome him, the two of them moving slowly and carefully to accommodate the growing size of his belly all while losing themselves in each other’s eyes.
Gao Tu, standing on the Alpha’s balcony after another round of gentle lovemaking and looking almost ethereal in the moonlight.
Gao Tu, giving him an embarrassed little smile and letting out that soft, sheepish laugh that only Shen Wenlang ever got to hear as the Alpha carefully pulled him into a standing position because his Omega was too pregnant to easily get up from the sofa anymore.
Gao Tu, blissfully balancing a tub of ice-cream on the dome of his rounded tummy and finally giving in to cravings that Shen Wenlang had only been too happy to provide for him.
Gao Tu, relaxing against Shen Wenlang’s chest and occasionally looking up at him with sleepy eyes while the Alpha rubbed ointment all over the taut, stretched skin of his nine months pregnant stomach and the two of them smiling happily every time the baby kicked against Shen Wenlang’s hands.
Gao Tu, being absolutely done with pregnancy and letting out a sigh of relief as Shen Wenlang stepped up behind him and very carefully slipped his hands under his stomach to lift up his heavy belly, reassuring him with soft words and gentle kisses that it was almost over and finding himself completely out of words to describe the depths of love and gratitude he felt towards his brave, strong Omega.
Gao Tu, turning towards him in the middle of the night and lightly shaking him awake with a tremor in his voice that was both caused by pain and excitement.
Gao Tu, holding his hand so very tightly as he labored to bring their baby – their son into the world.
Gao Tu.
Gao Tu, Gao Tu, Gao Tu.
The ugly truth was that Shen Wenlang had always wanted to be a father, but at some point in between first meeting Gao Tu at school and hiring him as his personal assistant he’d reached inside himself without ever truly noticing and plucked out that wish at the root, burying it so deep down that he’d almost forgotten it had ever been there in the first place.
These days, he understood that his subconscious had given up on fatherhood the moment it had realized just how deeply he loved a ‘Beta’ who would never give him children.
He also understood that his subconscious had made the tragic mistake to overcompensate and replaced his earnest hopes and dreams for the future with a coldness that had ultimately driven away the very man who would have been able to fulfill all of his dreams and even more.
Gao Tu.
Gods.
How he missed Gao Tu.
“The thing is, I get it. I get why he left ... why he thought that he needed to protect our son from me. I just ... I wish he would have given me a chance to prove him wrong. Just one.”
You got your chance, Wenlang. You got it the moment you set foot in that restaurant and then you threw it away with baseless accusations and stamped on it for good measure when you didn’t go after him.
He let out a hitched breath, his shoulders slumping in defeat as the bitter realization weighed down heavily upon him once more.
“I guess I shouldn’t judge Hua Yong too much,” he admitted quietly, lightly stroking his finger across the baby’s hand again and looking at him with a sad smile.
“Perhaps, neither of us truly deserves to be a father. Perhaps, you’d be better off not having either of us pathetic, broken fools in your li-”
The word got stuck in his throat, his chest burning and his eyes widening when the baby suddenly closed his tiny hand around his finger and squeezed tightly.
For a moment, they just stared at each other, intense dark eyes meeting stunned, overwhelmed brown ones.
Then, Hua Sheng’s face scrunched up and he started to wail.
Heartbreakingly and achingly so.
The Alpha startled.
“Oh! Oh no! Don’t cry! Please don’t cry! I didn’t mean it, I ... don’t cry!”
Feeling helpless, Shen Wenlang tried rocking the baby again, but Hua Sheng seemed completely unimpressed, his pitiful wailing only getting louder as though he was an emergency siren trying to alert the citizens of Jianghu that the world’s most useless Alpha had just been handed an innocent child.
“Xia Hua Sheng, please don’t cry!” Shen Wenlang tried again, adjusting his hold on the baby almost on instinct and draping him over his chest and shoulder before getting up and gently patting the baby’s back.
“Please don’t cry, baobao. Wenlang Baba is here, alright? Wenlang Baba is here and he’s not going anywhere ... I promise!”
The words came out without a moment’s hesitation, and when he realized what he’d said he held his breath, his heart thumping against his ribcage and his throat feeling tight with emotion when the baby actually started calming down again.
Wenlang Baba.
The words still made him ache, his heart yearning for what should have been his to cherish and for a moment, hands felt empty and cold at the thought that he would never get to hold Gao Tu again or be given the chance to comfort his own son.
Then, Hua Sheng let out a sniffle, and Shen Wenlang realized with startling clarity that his hands were neither empty nor cold.
Hua Sheng hadn’t left him.
Hua Sheng was with him, and he needed to protect him.
He wasn’t going to abandon him.
For as long as he lived, he wasn’t going to abandon anyone ever again.
He closed his eyes, turning his head to nuzzle against the baby’s soft hair and whispering promises and assurances that he’d never thought himself capable of but that were now flowing out of him with almost practiced ease.
He was going to be the best Wenlang Baba he could possibly be.
And maybe ...
Hopefully ...
... if fate ever unexpectedly gave him the chance of making it right again, Shen Wenlang hoped with every fiber of his being that Gao Tu would look at his devotion as Wenlang Baba and grant him permission to be their son’s Baba, too.