Chapter Text
Xie Lian could hardly feel the burn in his thighs nor his lungs as he scaled the 50th rung of stairs. To be fair, he couldn’t feel much of anything since his parents died and his godfather started taking care of him. To be even fairer, it just seemed wrong to take the elevator to the top of a building you would promptly jump off of. Only one part of this was supposed to be easy. Only one part of this was supposed to go swiftly, painlessly, over and done for good. He supposed the stairs gave him time to think. Not that he wasn’t sure, just more time to wallow, about his parents, about Uncle Bai who wasn’t even really his uncle. Who ought to not even know his name, much less that they had the same birthday, and to smack him, to talk to him like that on his- their birthday.
Well, not that it mattered anymore.
Finally, Xie Lian made it to the gray door in the gray staircase at the top of this very gray building at the end of his gray life.
He opened it, taking one of his last breaths.
And took an even deeper one when he realized he wasn’t alone.
In the night sky above Shanghai, seemingly numb to the whipping breeze at their elevation and the sound of cars humming underneath, a boy stood on the concrete edge of the building, toes hanging off the edge. All thoughts of his own mortality gone, Xie Lian was running with outstretched hands before he realized what he was doing. Because that kid was fifteen at most. At eighteen, Xie Lian felt he knew well enough whether life was worth living. At fifteen? This kid could use some sense knocked into him, even if Xie Lian wasn’t the one to do so. He didn’t plan on staying.
He grabbed his wrist, tugging, and the kid turned around in shock. He had bandages around his head covering his right eye, and the wrist in his hand was as thin as a bird’s leg. His clothes were tattered, and he was covered in bruises from this close up.
“Hey, kid,” Xie Lian forced a smile he didn’t really feel. Really, he felt a pit in his stomach deeper than this building was tall. “What are you doing up here?”
The kid tried to tug his wrist free to no avail. Xie Lian had once been a skilled martial artist, and muscle memory hadn’t left him yet. The kid whined, then growled, clearly frustrated. “What the hell do you think?”
“I think you’re up here for the same reason I am. Come on, talk to me.”
That gave him pause, and his eye skittered around for a moment before gazing at Xie Lian. “Give me one good reason not to jump,” He snarled, like a wounded animal in a cage.
“If you can’t find that reason yourself, I’ll be that reason. Come on, come down. Let’s go home.”
At the word “home,” his eyes filled with tears. He shook his head. Once, twice, then turned around and jumped.
Xie Lian didn’t feel himself scream, certainly didn’t feel himself jump, nor catch the kid, nor switch their positions with his body. But he certainly felt the ground. And he could feel twelve vertebrae crack before everything went black.
He woke to the sound of a heart monitor. He also woke to the feel of a tube down his excruciatingly dry throat, and the sound of Uncle Bai screaming at the doctors outside the door. Certainly, this was not heaven.
“-Sir, it’s a miracle he’s alive. He jumped from twice the survivable height. He broke twelve vertebrae and cracked his skull. He‘s been in a coma for a day and may not wake up, much less walk again. Some god is looking after that kid, and from the looks of it, it’s certainly not you.”
“Excuse me?” Uncle Bai was using the voice he used when he was about to hit someone. Calm, almost soft, but deadly as nightshade.
“Sir, there were bruises all over that kid clearly inflicted days before his attempt. He pleaded us not to let ‘Uncle Bai’ know even when he was half in a coma. From how you introduced yourself, I have to believe that’s you. Either we’re going to have a problem or I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Xie Lian heard his own heart monitor go flat before everything faded to black again.
He woke again to the sound of the heart monitor, once again, beeping away. If Xie Lian could roll his eyes, he would. Take a hint, he thought.
He wondered what happened to the kid. He may never find out, but he’d like to know that he’d paralyzed himself for him to walk free. Or, maybe not free. He was probably in the same hospital Xie Lian was in, being pestered with dumb questions like “ any suicidal thoughts? ” Well, duh!
Xie Lian went back to sleep. Or a coma. Whatever the medical jargon for it was.
Some horrid amount of time later, he woke without the tube down his throat, which was rubbed raw. Curiously, while his mouth was dry, he didn’t have a particularly raw feeling in his mouth.
They probably did that surgery where they put the tube through your neck, his brain supplied.
Lovely, his brain also answered.
There was a knock on his door. “You might as well come in” he croaked, horrified by the sound of his own voice. He sounded like an actual zombie. From that movie – fuck, what was it? It was Korean…
Train to Busan, his brain once again supplied.
Shut up.
A female doctor walked in, seemingly apologetic to even be here. He could sympathize. She sat down at the chair pulled up to his bed and pursed her lips. “Hi, I’m doctor Wen. I’ll be doing your psych eval. How are you feeling?”
“Like I jumped off a building, cracked twelve vertebrae and my skull, and possibly got a tracheostomy.”
She made a slightly shocked face, huffing out a laugh. “You’re very bright for someone whose brains doctor Wei touched. You did indeed get a tracheostomy. There was a blockage of blood and spinal fluid in your trachea. You would have died if we didn’t. Although, breathing should’ve been the least of your worries. The height would’ve done in anyone who didn’t know how to break their fall properly. I hear you’re a trained martial artist?”
“Ha, well thank you so much for saving my life, Doctor Wen. I treasured it so much. And yes, I am. Or, was. I’m not walking again, am I?”
“Well, I’ll just mark you down for no suicidal thoughts then and send you on your way.” She said, writing down what was certainly not “no suicidal thoughts”. “your spinal cord is miraculously fine, although you’ll certainly be in a wheelchair before years of physical therapy.”
“Can’t wait. Are you going to ask me questions now?”
“You bet. So, I assume I can write down history of child abuse?”
“You’re so direct. Teen abuse. He didn’t take care of me until two years ago.”
“Teens are legally and medically still children. And should not be making decisions on their mortality, but that’s neither here nor there.” She scribbled on her clipboard. He took a peek. Perfectly legible handwriting, could use some style. “And what caused you to be under his care? Is this the death of parents I’m seeing on your chart?”
Xie Lian swallowed. It felt awful. Like his first time swallowing a sword. “Uh, yeah. I don’t have any siblings or aunts or uncles, grandparents all dead. I have a cousin, but he’s younger than me. His parents died too, if you’re wondering. He’s also a total whackjob, so if you send me to a psych ward, I might meet him there.”
Doctor Wen took a sharp intake of breath. “Damn kid, I’m sorry. That’s rough.”
“ That’s rough, buddy ,” Xie Lian mumbled in his best impression of the prince from that American show he watched once. He couldn’t remember his name, and he didn’t particularly care. With the roughness of his throat, the impression was actually rather good, if his memory was still intact after the fall.
“Ah, well, your humor is intact. Nice Avatar the Last Airbender reference. I assume I can write down humor as your coping mechanism?”
“Wow, you’re full of assumptions today.” He deadpanned. “Actually, it used to be martial arts. It’ll have to be humor for now.”
Doctor Wen continued asking him questions until she reached the end of his form, then flipped through it and nodded. “Well, now all that’s left to do is get you a wheelchair and wait for a psych ward bed. I hope to see you in my office in the future,” she said, handing him a shiny red business card: “心理医生” emblazoned on the front in large print with “psychiatrist” underneath and her contact information in both Mandarin and English. She turned to leave, but Xie Lian stopped her.
“Hey, what happened to the kid I came in with?”
“The kid- oh, that kid. I can’t tell you much for legal reasons, but he’s alive. Perfectly intact, actually.” She smiled. “You saved him. Make of that what you will.”