Work Text:
When Lu Guang awoke, it was with barely-stifled horror.
He could still feel it.
He ripped off his covers, all but falling down the ladder in his haste to run to the bathroom.
The fluorescent lighting was harsh, biting into his eyes even as he squinted, never stopping on his way to the sink.
He couldn’t see it, but he could still feel it. Even as he lathered his hands up with soap and began scrubbing them under the stream of water again and again and again and again.
He could still feel it.
He could still feel the blood.
He could still feel how it stuck to him, clinging to his hands, the sticky, tacky feeling impossible to escape. He could still feel how when it dried, it tightened the skin, staining it.
He could still feel it.
It wasn’t good enough, he thought, trying to focus through his hyperventilating. His hands were shaking and rubbed raw, but he could still see the red.
Maybe it wasn’t here that he was supposed to be cleaning.
At the thought, Lu Guang turned and walked out of the bathroom, so single-minded in his pursuit that he left the light on and the faucet running.
Bleach and a rag were retrieved from their downstairs closet, and then Lu Guang entered the darkroom.
The floor was spotless to most.
It was covered in blood to Lu Guang.
He trembled, breath catching in his throat as he stared down at Cheng Xiaoshi’s form. He lay crumpled on the floor, blood that was somehow even more red than the red light of the darkroom flowing out of his abdomen in a viscous pool. His breath rattled in his chest as Lu Guang fell to his knees. The pain that he should’ve felt was muted, nonexistent, as he could only stare at the gruesome sight before him. The iron stench of blood rose around him, choking him.
The image of Cheng Xiaoshi’s body faded, but the blood remained, the puddle growing steadily larger until it threatened to envelop Lu Guang.
Swallowing thickly, Lu Guang began to clean the floor, tears forming in his eyes at how not even the pungent smell of the bleach was enough to rid the stench of blood and death from his nostrils.
This was his fault, he knew.
His punishment.
For changing the past, for breaking time again and again, for trying so hard to save someone the universe was hellbent on killing.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It was dark when Cheng Xiaoshi drifted back into wakefulness, blinking blearily around at the dark room.
He wasn’t quite sure what had awoken him, but he sat up anyway, still groggy and struggling to wake up.
Something wasn’t right.
And then he inhaled.
“Oh, A-Guang…” he murmured as he swung his legs out from beneath his blanket, standing up and heading out of their bedroom, following the slight chemical tang in the air.
He didn’t bother checking Lu Guang’s bunk. He already knew that he wouldn’t be there.
Keeping his steps light, Cheng Xiaoshi crept down the stairs, avoiding making too much noise.
As he reached the foot of the stairs, he was about to turn to head into the foyer in his search for Lu Guang, when the sight of their couch stopped him.
Ever since that day, it hadn’t looked right to him. Logically, he knew that it had been cleaned, but he swore he could still see the crimson spilled across its cushions.
He blinked, and suddenly Lu Guang lay slumped on their couch, blood pooling out from under him and dripping down onto the floor. Their eyes met briefly before Lu Guang’s eyelids fluttered and closed.
Cheng Xiaoshi closed his own eyes and counted to five, trying to steady his breathing, calm his racing heart.
It wasn’t real, he tried to remind himself.
With every deep breath in, the iron stench of blood was replaced with that of antiseptic and bleach. It was just as unwelcome as the former, but Cheng Xiaoshi was grateful for it heralding his return to reality.
Without another glance to the couch - blood or no, Lu Guang needed him - Cheng Xiaoshi turned and made his way to the foyer and then the darkroom.
The stench of bleach hung heavy in the air, and Cheng Xiaoshi pulled the collar of his shirt up, choking back a cough. “Lu Guang?” he asked, voice slightly muffled and eyes burning as they finally alighted on Lu Guang.
The jug of bleach was half-empty, its lid missing. Next to it, Lu Guang knelt on the floor, scrubbing away at it furiously, moving so fast that his hair bobbed, eyes wide and focused only on his target.
“Come on,” he whispered, reaching out and slowly pulling the rag from Lu Guang’s hand and replacing the cap on the bleach. “Let’s get you out of here.”
Lu Guang didn’t fight him, but didn’t acknowledge him either. Instead, he allowed himself to be bundled into Cheng Xiaoshi’s arms, head resting against his chest while Cheng Xiaoshi rocked him from side to side, whispering sweet nothings into his hair, matted with sweat.
He knew that Lu Guang wouldn’t be able to hear him, but hoped that it would help bring him back.
Carefully, Cheng Xiaoshi picked Lu Guang up and carried him out of the darkroom. He studiously avoided even looking at the couch as he headed upstairs, his grip on Lu Guang only tightening ever so slightly.
He set him down in the lower bunk and slid into the bed right next to him, pulling the blanket up and over them both, choosing to ignore Lu Guang’s red hands and forearms for now.
It would be easier to treat him when he was in the right state of mind.
Instead, he lay next to Lu Guang, pulling him against his chest and gently combing his fingers through his hair.
Lu Guang trembled.
A single tear fell from his eyes, dampening Cheng Xiaoshi’s shirt.