Work Text:
Chi Cheng
The day he left me, I brought him daffodils.
It was cold that night. A gentle breeze swirled through naked trees, its chill just keen enough to raise goosebumps on exposed skin--almost enough to steal your breath away. The sky was painted an inky black, stars twinkling rhythmically like little city lights, blinking, blinking in an eternal heartbeat. The world was still. It was perfect.
Autumn was always my favorite season, for more reasons than one. The nice weather, sweaters, hot chocolate, warm evenings with friends curled up by the fireplace playing lame board games and making memories that would last a lifetime. But more so than that, the feeling of it–what it represented–was what I loved most. Autumn was a time where nature called for us to let go, like leaves falling from weary trees, releasing what no longer served us. To simply just be. To exist.
At the time, I felt almost reluctant to part with a night like that and to set foot back into the bleak territory of reality. But time waits for no one, especially not for those who find they aren’t ready to let go.
The inside of the hospital seemed colder than it did outside, but in a different kind of way. Icy, sterile. That type of coldness that seeps into your skin and overwhelms you, slowly creeping its way into your heart–a frigid, relentless frost. I clutched the daffodils to my chest and took the path I’d traveled many times before. Down the hall, to the left. It was usually just me at this hour of the night.
Usually.
Only, tonight was different. Wednesday nights were supposed to be my time with him, mainly because his mom never came then; she worked part time at a fabric store in the evenings to pass the days. To try to forget this. But today, here she was. Despite myself, I felt a smile creep its way across my face, warmth blooming in my chest. I loved Ma Wu like my own mother, after all, and I hadn’t seen her in awhile. It would be nice to visit him together this time.
She faced away from me, talking in a hushed tone with a nurse holding a stack of papers. Forms for more bloodwork, more medications, more testing I assumed. It never ended. With a sigh, I approached the two of them slowly, not wanting to interrupt anything important.
Once the nurse had walked away, I laid my hand gently on Ma Wu’s shoulder. She didn’t even look up at first. Just reached over and covered it with her own. We stayed that way for a while before she turned to look at me, her eyes meeting mine in a gaze so hollow, it was as if joy had never lived there.
I knew then. I knew.
“No.” I feel like I’m falling.
Her voice was barely a whisper, “Chi Cheng.”
No.
“It’s time. There’s nothing else they can do for him.”
My brain was on fire, and I couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t happening.
“Wh-what? Auntie…what are you saying?”
“They can’t help him anymore. He isn’t strong enough.”
“What?”
“He has hours, maybe. They don’t know for sure. But I knew you’d come,” she paused to rest her hand on my cheek, a gesture so loving, so warm, I felt like breaking.
Falling.
“I’ve already said goodbye. Please, be with him. Please. I know he wants it to be you.”
I closed my eyes, banishing my tears, telling myself to be strong, to not let myself fall apart in front of her. It was the last thing she needed. She was giving me this; it was the least I could do for her.
“Go to him.”
I nodded once.
I had never run so fast.
The day we found out, we were practicing the choreography for that week’s club event–one we had done dozens, hell, hundreds of times before. For some reason, he just couldn’t get the steps right. Every jump he stumbled, every turn he fell. He said he’d been feeling off for a couple days, but he thought it was probably just a bug. Caught the campus plague or whatever. Like a nagging wife, I had begged him to go to the clinic, just so he could get checked out because a cold can sometimes get serious, you know?
So, I had taken him, my Da Bao, to the very hospital that I was standing in now. I held him as we waited for his name to be called. I held him as the doctor explained the results with a grim frown and said he needed additional tests to rule out something more serious. I held him when he cried–when I cried–because of how serious everything was really about to become.
Falling.
ALS has no cure. It simply progresses and steals every moment, every piece of what you are, until there is nothing left but a shell. In a frozen hell, I sat there, numb, as it took him from me and took everything from him. I could do nothing but be there. I held his face in my hands when he screamed that it wasn’t fair, that he just wanted his dreams back, wanted his life back. Why wouldn’t his legs let him dance anymore, why couldn’t he be free? I carried him when his body could no longer support itself. I weathered his storms, tried to be the light in his darkness, and stood steady beside him as he dealt with his grief in all its stages. As his only foundation, I watched and braced myself as he slowly lost who he was, becoming weaker, weaker, until despair was all that was left of us.
Falling.
As I stood in front of that door that I’d walked through so many times before, I found the pillars of my resolve crumbling. Everything that we’d fought for was ending, just like that. How could I be his rock when there was nothing left to stand on?
He needs you. Fight for him. Put yourself back together. For him.
With a strength I didn’t know I still had, I opened the door, eyes closed.
“Chi Cheng?”
He could barely say it, so it hardly came out as more than a whisper. Didn’t even really sound like him. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes.
“It’s me, Wei Wei.”
He was laid on his back with his hands folded on his stomach, eyes staring straight up at the ceiling. I knew that he couldn't look at me, or else he would have done so already. I buried my face in the daffodils, in an attempt to quell the deep ache settling itself into my heart. I could do this. For him.
I walked over to him and set the daffodils on the bedside table, keeping my tone as light as I dared, “I brought you your favorites, babe. Daffodils.” His unblinking eyes shone brilliantly as I plucked one from the bunch and set it in his hand, carefully, delicately. With a featherlight touch, I brushed away the tears that rolled down his cheeks with my thumb and looked at him.
He was so tired. So, very tired.
“Stay,” he breathed softly, “Stay with me tonight.”
“Of course I will, Da Bao.”
I took off my shoes and crawled into the small bed, carefully shifting his weight so that his head rested on my chest. I stroked his hair as I kissed his forehead and then his lips. He was my heart. I loved him so much it hurt.
Falling.
“The daffodils,” he sighed, “Bring them? Please?”
I looked at him, questioningly, but reached over and grabbed the bouquet off the table
“Place them...around us. Please.”
I did as he asked, laying every flower individually. Three on the comforter, two on the pillow, one on either side of us. Finally, I placed one behind his ear and smiled faintly at him. He looked radiant, showered in a garden of golden blossoms.
“Wow,” I whispered and pulled him closer.
Autumn is a time of letting go and finding peace in the serenity of blue skies and crimson leaves. As each leaf wanders, there is a feeling of longing and loss, just enough to make your heart ache. But they must all fall eventually and become a part of the earth, once again.
“Chi Cheng?”
“Yeah, Wei Wei?
“I’m...sleepy.”
Falling, falling….
I rebuilt my pillars, steadied my heart, “Rest, angel. I’ll be here.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
With daffodil petals in his hair, the love of my life closed his eyes for the last time.