Red Light

Aftermath: Part 1

Yu Bin sat on the floor, leaning against the wall of the bathroom. His face obediently raised for Huaisang to wipe it off.

He wasn't sure why he had thrown up. Today was oddly enough the first morning he had woken and not felt nauseous since the infection had begun.

He listened to Huaisang yelling at Lan Wangji. Listened to the yelled responses. They were all okay.

He knew that was good.

None of it felt real though.

As soon as his face was wiped to A'Sang's satisfaction, he looked down at his hands. The infected left hand was throbbing as it slowly oozed a bloody liquid. His fingers twitched it hurt so bad.

'Probably when I pushed Wei Ying off the bed.' he thought clinically. As if somehow, it wasn't his hand with torn out stitches.

On his right, it technically wasn't his hand that was bleeding. It was his forearm. The IV had ripped out. He wasn't sure when that happened. A'Sang was putting pressure on it, he noted.

His thoughts were detached. Distant. Disconnected.

His eyes scanned Huisang for injuries. There was blood smeared on his clothes, but Yu Bin knew it was his own. A'Sang appeared to be fine.

He looked up again to see A'Sang looking at him.

"Are You Okay?" he asked. It seemed a silly question, but Yu Bin understood.

"Yes." he paused. "I would not kill for them, but I can not allow you to be hurt. I won't. "

His voice was stiff. Cracking on the last word.

'For them?' Huaisang thought. He would figure it out another day.

Huaisang leaned his forehead against Yu Bin's. For a moment, he was just breathing.

The shot whistling past his face had been terrifying.

Somehow, it didn't matter. Yu Bin was okay and had saved him. Saved them all. No different than the Warrior Angels of his childhood.

He sent up a brief prayer of thanks for all their lives.

A soft kiss on Yu Bin's forehead.

He laid Yu Bin's left arm gently over the still bleeding right.

Wiping his bloody hands on his pants, he pulled his phone out and began to type.
-----

Ming-jue was checking each corner. Behind him were two other officers doing the same thing. Carefully, they worked their way down the hall. Just outside the door, he waited a moment.

Following the directions his di-di had texted, he knocked four knocks, a pause then one more. Lan Zhan opened the door warily with his gun pulled. His shoulders dropped when he saw the Inspector.

Lan Wangji opened the door wider to let in his Inspector and the other two officers.

Mingue scanned the room, gun in hand.

One corner of the room was a bloodbath. Blood, bone, and brain had sprayed across the walls to slowly answer the call of gravity. The pieces fell in chunks and dripped to the floor in grisly little piles.

Lying amongst the carnage was the body they originated from. A man. Late twenties, maybe early thirties Nie Mingjue estimated. Extremely dead.

He turned his attention to the rest of the room.

The furniture was shifted.

A side table was pulled out so Wei Ying and the two boys could be in a corner out of the line of fire from the door. The man was currently softly stroking their hair as they sat huddled against him. All three staring into the distance.