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Title: a light on the other side

Rating: Mature Summary: As a child, Meng Yao had only ever met his father in passing, as he had a family of his own and wanted little to do with the child that resulted from his affair with Meng Yao's mother. But when Meng Shi passed away tragically, 13 year old Meng Yao was sent to live with his father, spending the rest of his teen years in a living hell until he was able to escape... A few years later, another affair and another tragedy brought infant Mo Xuanyu into the Jin household and Meng Yao returned to keep him safe from the fate he'd suffered himself. Life there is awful, though not nearly as bad as it was before, as Meng Yao spends most of his time alone caring for Mo Xuanyu. However, a few months into his return, Meng Yao is presented with a unique opportunity when, late one night, he finds Jin Guangshan collapsed on the floor of his office. (2.6k, abuse/past abuse, jgs dies)

haha, this is more 3zun discord inspiration! this is a take on this message from theduality: The truth is that JGS probably would have lived if JGY had called 911 as soon as he walked into the library and found his father having a heart attack on the floor, but instead he just waited until he was sure JGS was dead.

It's set in a modern 3zun AU where Meng Yao eventually meets LXC and NMJ at a single dads support group (though they're all technically just the legal guardians of their MUCH younger brothers).

~~~

Meng Yao had spent nearly an hour trying to fall asleep before he gave up. After an incident that involved his father shoving him into a wall earlier that evening, the steady thrum of pain in his shoulder had been too persistent to allow him to doze off, so he'd been reading when the sound of something crashing down the hall made him jump.

Immediately, he jolted upright out of his bed; his heart was in his throat as he practically flew through the door of the small guest bedroom—he didn’t know where the sound came from, but his first fear was for Mo Xuanyu, for his tiny, helpless baby half-brother alone in his room, but as he pushed through the door into the dark bedroom and ran to the side of his brother’s crib...

The tiny infant was sleeping soundly, unharmed and undisturbed by any potentially falling thing, and Meng Yao spent a moment watching his chest rise and fall peacefully, letting relief wash over him, letting the even, soothing pace of it soothe him in turn. Mo Xuanyu was the only reason that Meng Yao had returned to this hellhole after all, the only motivation strong enough to make him brave this place again. Another bastard, just like Meng Yao, another product of his father’s adultery, only stuck here because of his mother’s death. Mo Xuanyu had been born four weeks premature, rescued from his mother’s womb after an awful accident took his mother’s life, and he’d spent the first few weeks of his life in the hospital before he’d been healthy enough to come home, and even now, months later, he still seemed impossibly small.

The crashing sound was troubling, needed to be investigated, but... Jin Zixuan was away at college, making Mo Xuanyu the only person in the house Meng Yao actually cared about. Checking on him had to come first.

Once he was satisfied and a little more settled, Meng Yao crept out of the room, closing the door securely behind him, and started down the hall. Jin Guangshan was the only other person home tonight, and the crashing sound could have just as easily come from the direction of his office, so Meng Yao headed that way next, moving quietly down the hall and peeking around the corner of the open office doors...

Continue Reading on AO3 or below the cut

Meng Yao had spent nearly an hour trying to fall asleep before he gave up. After an incident that involved his father shoving him into a wall earlier that evening, the steady thrum of pain in his shoulder had been too persistent to allow him to doze off, so he'd been reading when the sound of something crashing down the hall made him jump.

Immediately, he jolted upright out of his bed; his heart was in his throat as he practically flew through the door of the small guest bedroom—he didn’t know where the sound came from, but his first fear was for Mo Xuanyu, for his tiny, helpless baby half-brother alone in his room, but as he pushed through the door into the dark bedroom and ran to the side of his brother’s crib...

The tiny infant was sleeping soundly, unharmed and undisturbed by any potentially falling thing, and Meng Yao spent a moment watching his chest rise and fall peacefully, letting relief wash over him, letting the even, soothing pace of it soothe him in turn. Mo Xuanyu was the only reason that Meng Yao had returned to this hellhole after all, the only motivation strong enough to make him brave this place again. Another bastard, just like Meng Yao, another product of his father’s adultery, only stuck here because of his mother’s death. Mo Xuanyu had been born four weeks premature, rescued from his mother’s womb after an awful accident took his mother’s life, and he’d spent the first few weeks of his life in the hospital before he’d been healthy enough to come home, and even now, months later, he still seemed impossibly small.

The crashing sound was troubling, needed to be investigated, but... Jin Zixuan was away at college, making Mo Xuanyu the only person in the house Meng Yao actually cared about. Checking on him had to come first.

Once he was satisfied and a little more settled, Meng Yao crept out of the room, closing the door securely behind him, and started down the hall. Jin Guangshan was the only other person home tonight, and the crashing sound could have just as easily come from the direction of his office, so Meng Yao headed that way next, moving quietly down the hall and peeking around the corner of the open office doors...

He froze as his eyes fell upon the sight inside, his lungs forgetting how to breathe for a moment, the thump of his heart in his chest the only thing he could process beyond the scene inside the room.

Jin Guangshan was laying on the floor. The high backed chair that sat behind his desk had tipped over and the phone that usually sat on his desk had fallen to the floor as well, sitting off the hook, the dial tone just barely audible from the doorway. Jin Guangshan was... stretched out, reaching for the office phone that was more than a foot beyond his grasp while his other arm was clutched to his chest and his face was contorted into a pained expression.

All in all, it painted a very clear picture.

After a life of excess, of smoking and drugs and sex and too rich foods, Jin Guangshan had been on medication for his cholesterol and high blood pressure for years. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what Meng Yao had stumbled upon.

“Hey!”

Meng Yao nearly jumped at the sharp bark of Jin Guangshan’s voice—he hadn’t expected to be seen, but since he had been, he knew there was no longer a reason to hide and he slipped more fully into the doorway, eyes still glued on his father’s struggling form. He had obviously been trying to drag himself along the carpet to reach the phone; he had even more obviously been failing.

“Don’t just stand there!” he snapped. His face was flushed, his voice tight and strained. Meng Yao didn’t know much about heart attacks, but he had been told they were agonizing. Jin Guangshan certain looked like he was in agony.

Good, a tiny, vindictive voice in the back of his head spit.

Meng Yao didn’t move and Jin Guangshan’s voice turned into a furious growl. “You useless —call an ambulance! I’m having-” he had to pause to suck in a desperate, rasping breath, “-a heart attack!”

“A serious one, it seems,” Meng Yao replied, his voice hollow and cold even to his own ears. His thoughts were already spinning, rearranging around what was happening in front of him, around the opportunity that had suddenly presented itself to him.

He... didn’t have to do anything, he realized. He’d dreamed, sickeningly, of so many awful ways Jin Guangshan might die, and of all the ways he might personally end Jin Guangshan’s life. Despite knowing he’d never actually go through with it, he had fantasized about doing something for years , but... it seemed like all his dreams were about to come true and all he had to do was exactly nothing.

Some mixture of rage and horror flashed through Jin Guangshan’s eyes; they darted back to the phone, and his body flailed weakly on the floor as if trying to push himself closer to it. He barely gained even an inch of ground, and for all the likelihood that his failing heart would allow him to reach the phone, it might as well have been miles away.

He looked back towards Meng Yao, looking more desperate than before as the sudden shift in their dynamic had clearly registered.

“Son,” Jin Guangshan rasped and Meng Yao flinched. Jin Guangshan has spent years avoiding calling him that and while there had been a time in Meng Yao’s life when he would have given anything to hear it... that time had passed ages ago, before Meng Yao had suffered through years of abuse, through slaps to the face and strikes from any weapon Jin Guangshan had on hand leaving bruises Meng Yao was forced to hide behind false clumsiness, through cigarette burns that had left lasting marks on Meng Yao’s skin, to insults and a constant stream of degradation that Meng Yao had endured through most of his teen years...

“Son, please ,” Jin Guangshan continued, almost begging now, sounding pathetic, “I’m dying, can’t you see I’m dying? Be a good boy and call for an ambulance.”

Finally managing to take a slow breath, Meng Yao crossed the room towards Jin Guangshan. He felt... strangely calm, almost eerily so, as he knelt down on the floor directly in front of him. “Father,” he said, his voice low and even, “I’m going to show you just as much compassion as you’ve shown me.”

Jin Guangshan heaved a sigh of relief as he watched Meng Yao’s hand slowly reaching over for the phone. “Thank you, oh, thank you, son,” he professed between his gasping breaths, clearly struggling for both air and for words as the blood flow to his heart weakened the muscle, weakened its ability to get blood pumping to his brain, “you won’t regret this, I promise you won’t, you’ll see, son, you’ll...”

His words stopped as Meng Yao’s hand hovered over the receiver, fingers floating just out of contact, lingering like that for several long seconds until Jin Guangshan stopped spewing his saccharine platitudes.

And then, just as calmly as before, Meng Yao drew his arm back and sat fully upright, letting his hands settle in his lap.

Like a switch flipping, Jin Guangshan’s mood shifted immediately back to rage, his face flushing a deep red, his eyes widening with accusation. “Y-you!” he spluttered out, so infuriated that he couldn’t help but stumble as he fought for his words. “You piece of shit! What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Do you think you can just let me die here?”

Meng Yao was almost surprised at himself, at... the tiny curl at the corner of his lips, at the way his heart was starting to race, not with fear, but with excitement. This was the first time Jin Guangshan yelling at him had made him feel anything but terror and rage and he almost couldn’t believe that it wasn’t just fear making his adrenaline go haywire.

He locked eyes with his father as a rush of boldness swelled in his chest and he replied, “I do, actually.”

The words left Jin Guangshan seething and out of muscle memory, his arms swiped for Meng Yao, looking to grab him, shake him, throw him to the ground as he’d done countless times before—but Meng Yao had sat down just beyond his father’s reach, and Meng Yao’s grin only widened manically at his father’s failed final attempts to hurt him.

“Fucking BASTARD!” Jin Guangshan nearly hollered, before his hand was clutching to his chest again, the stress of his rage surely only making his condition worse. “You no good, useless waste of human flesh! You... You’re mother was a disgusting slut and you’re no fucking better! I would have been—better... better off if your sperm had would up in a fucking trash can, you—”

It was nothing that Meng Yao hadn’t heard before, nothing new— but what was new was that Meng Yao wasn’t trembling in terror, wasn’t recoiling as he tried to protect his face from the worst of the blows coming his way. He wasn’t avoiding being pummeled by his father, wasn’t dodging something heavy that had been pitched in his direction, wasn’t worried about how he might have to hide tomorrow’s welt or bruises from teachers or peers. Jin Guangshan spat and hissed and twitched on the floor, his vitriol spewing out of him with force as he babbled on... but as his words and insults grew more strained with his gasping breaths (his brain and body needed oxygen, his lungs were sucking desperately for it, but no amount of breathing would save the organ failing in his chest)... Meng Yao only sat quietly with that faint smile lingering on his lips.

“You won’t,” Jin Guangshan continued on haltingly, the fatigue and oxygen deprivation catching up to him, “you won’t get - get away with this, you... little fucker. When I pull through, I... I’ll fuck—fucking kill you, I’ll... you wish you were never fucking born when.... when I’m done with... with you...”

And then, Jin Guangshan fell limp against the floor.

Meng Yao didn’t move, not yet. His eyes were trained on Jin Guangshan’s body, watching the rise and fall of his chest, knowing he was passed out, but not gone, not quite yet, and at this point, Meng Yao couldn’t afford to let this go right. He couldn’t risk paramedics managing to revive Jin Guangshan, at least not with enough brain function to remember this happening or to do anything about it, because for as many times as he’d wished he hadn’t been born, he had no doubt that Jin Guangshan could manage to make his life even more miserable. With his power, his resources, he could have Meng Yao permanently maimed or disfigured, he could have him killed and probably manage to cover it up—he could toss him out and make sure he never saw Mo Xuanyu again, and in some ways that was almost a worse fate. If he wasn’t here, he wasn’t sure if the boy would make it, as fragile and small as he was and as little as the Jins cared about him.

But eventually, Jin Guangshan’s breathing had stopped as well, and Meng Yao waited just another moment before he leaned forward to press his finger to Jin Guangshan’s carotid artery to feel for a pulse... only to find nothing.

He took a breath, trembling just a little, before picking up the receiver of the phone on the floor and calling emergency services.

As he told the operator his address and that he’d walked in to find his father collapsed on the floor, his voice was shaking slightly, in a way that he hoped sounded like panic—though he was well aware it was only an excitement muted by the lingering feeling of shock.

Ten minutes later, he was opening the front door for the paramedics, ushering them upstairs to his father’s office. The commotion of loud footsteps in the hallway was quick to wake Mo Xuanyu in his crib, which meant that, as soon as the paramedics had been directed to Jin Guangshan’s body, Meng Yao had an excuse to slip away and tend to the crying child in the nursery.

He lifted Mo Xuanyu up into his arms, cradling the tiny boy against his chest in a way that had become quite natural to him over the last couple of months as he hushed him gently, swaying him slowly as he paced the room, his thoughts spinning at what he’d done, at watching Jin Guangshan die, and hoping against hope that he was beyond saving, that he was finally actually free of him once and for all...

Nearly an hour had passed and Mo Xuanyu had fallen asleep in his arms when one of the paramedics came to find him and give him the news: they’d done everything they could, but Jin Guangshan was dead.

Hearing the news from someone else was what it took to make it finally sink in, and Meng Yao felt tears in his eyes, his arms holding Mo Xuanyu a bit closer. He nodded as he tried to keep breathing regularly, thanked them for their time and took the information they handed him, and soon after, they were carrying the body from the home as they left.

It was only after the door was closed and locked behind them that the tears spilled over, that the slight tremor that had been quaking through him since he’d found Jin Guangshan on the floor of the office became far more violent. He quickly sunk down into the nearest armchair to keep himself from collapsing, keeping his arms safely and securely around Mo Xuanyu as the tears streamed down his cheeks, pressing his cheek gently against the wispy swirl of hair on top of his head.

Meng Yao had never been so relieved.

It was over. Jin Guangshan was dead, he’d never hurt Meng Yao again, he’d never have a chance to hurt Mo Xuanyu, it was all fucking over, and the tears on Meng Yao’s face had nothing to do with grief.

Madam Jin would need to be notified about what happened sooner rather than later; Meng Yao would text Jin Zixuan in a bit just to tell him that he needed to come home so he could receive the news in person. The next few weeks were bound to be a disaster and Meng Yao didn’t look forward to pretending to be upset about the death of a man he despised, and he didn’t know what Madam Jin would choose to do with the bastard children she’d never wanted under her roof to begin with.

But as he remembered the day Jin Guangshan had held him down, pumped dish soap into his mouth before sealing it shut with duct tape... or the night Jin Guangshan had smashed into his room, grabbed him by the hair and dragged him to the top of the stairs only to fling him down the staircase, followed by the long nights he’d spent alone in the hospital, concussed and nauseous and in agony from a shattered arm and leg...

His shoulder still ached, but Meng Yao didn't even mind it anymore. It would be the last bruise his father ever gave him.

This was a victory and he would take the time to revel in it. Whatever challenges that lied ahead would pale in comparison to the ones he’d already managed to survive.