I Am...
Chapter 2: The One Who Stays
Pigsy's fuse is running shorter and shorter by the minute, as Li Na refuses to stop crying because of her cold. It doesn't help that he also knows Tang wants to talk about something important, but he just has to survive until then.
He just has to survive until then...
tw for references to poor mental health, past miscarriages, depression, infant sickness, and anger issues in a parent
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3
Ao3 Link
Six hours.
Li Na had not stopped crying for six whole hours.
Pigsy was sure he was following the medication instructions to a tee, but while it helped alleviate some of her cold symptoms, the tears remained.
Pigsy was tired. MK was tired. Sandy couldn't help; his physical therapy patients and yoga classes were in desperate need for make-ups. Mei was busy having important talks with Red Son. Tang was at work. To make matters worse, Tang also wanted to talk about something serious when he got home.
Pigsy didn't hate Li Na—he doubted that was even possible—but he came very, very, very close.
Quite a bit before Hour Five, MK had needed a break and went on a fly with a promise to return with groceries and some take-out in an hour. Pigsy was going to get a break in return when Tang came home, so that meant he'd just have to survive until then.
But she just wouldn't stop. Not even for a minute. She was sick, and miserable, and snotty, and leaky, and boy oh boy did she love trying to grab and pull on his stray chin hairs (he really needed to shave). She screamed every time he tried nose suctioning, she still barely took bottles, and she did not want to sit still for temperatures. To make matters worse, she had attacked both Pigsy and MK with her magic several times by now, seeing any use of force as an attack on her and her wellbeing.
Pigsy was very, very, very tired.
“C’mon kid, it's been hours– aren't you tired of this already?” Pigsy groaned, putting away another barely-sipped bottle in the fridge, while she wriggled and kicked and cried.
Pigsy tried to bury a growl as he brought her back to the nursery, setting her on the changing table as he got a fresh onesie for her. Not that the one she was wearing was too dirty by any means, but the dribbles of snot and milk were enough to convince him it'd be worth it. Plus, it was mentioned in that dumb packet that fresh clean clothes were always best. Not that he really had too much left, what with laundry having been ignored for forever due to the mission–
Li Na wriggled against his touch, shrieking whenever he touched her chest, and shrieking even louder somehow when he dared to undo some snaps– causing Pigsy's eye to twitch.
“Kid, come on– you've gotten dressed before, you will survive,” he huffed, forcing her arms out and through despite her attempts at gripping and clawing– ugh, her claws needed to be trimmed too. That last swipe nearly drew blood.
With a sigh, Pigsy managed to get her undressed, minus her diaper, and quickly went for the claw clippers– only for them to not be where they should.
“Great.” Pigsy rolled his eyes in annoyance, scooping up Li Na again as he searched around– meaning her head was even closer to his ears than normal, hooray. As if searching for something so small wasn't hard enough. He wished he could just leave her on the table, but it wasn't safe. Plus, she was getting a shiver now, and needed his body heat despite her objections. Not to mention leaving her alone was like committing murder to her, and she would just shriek even worse.
“Alright, where is this damn thing,” Pigsy muttered, looking through dresser drawers to see if it had fallen. Li Na, oh-so-shockingly, wasn't a fan of all the up and down and grinding noises of her drawer in this state, and began to cry louder, only to trigger a series of coughs which left a mess on Pigsy's shoulder. Great.
“Just breathe, kid, you're fine, you're fine,” Pigsy half-heartedly soothed, keeping his focus on the clippers. Li Na was obviously not very calmed by this, pulling and kicking his shirt with all her little baby strength. Wasn't too bad, but would be better if he could find those goddamn clippers already.
“You know, back in my day, my parents just filled my bottle with NyQuil and wished me goodnight,” he muttered, annoyed to find it wasn't anywhere in her dressers.
Li Na shivered against him, reminding the chef he should probably get her dressed– except that he wouldn't be able to do her toes if he did, but she was really hot, would being like this really kill her?
Pigsy had wished it before, and he wished it now, that she could be more like a human baby. Human babies were easy; they didn't have any magic, or anger problems, or sharp claws, or selfishness, or annoying shrieks that simultaneously broke his heart and pissed him off, and if she could just stop crying for five minutes, he could do what he needed to.
No– no, stop, he wasn't supposed to think like this. He wasn't like his parents. He loved her, Pigsy loved this screaming, angry, pink piglet in his arms, he did, he loved her, he– but if she would just shut up–
It was just an hour, he could survive one goddamn hour.
Pigsy rubbed his eyes with his free hand, moving out of the nursery to find and see if it was in the diaper bag for some god forsaken reason.
Nope. Not in the main pocket, the divider pocket, the side pockets, the front pocket, the back pocket, or the inner side pockets, or– wait– no, there it was, buried underneath the wipes. Finally. Now for the fun part.
“You excited to get your nails clipped?” he asked sarcastically as he went back into the nursery. She only sneezed in response. “Yeah, let's just hope you don't try to kill me, alright?” he huffed, setting her down on the table again and cracking his back.
“Let's just try and get through this in one piece.” Pigsy sighed. He began by first wiping her face– not that it seemed to make her much happier, as the cold temperature caused a brief shriek, and several head turns to avoid it, but hey, at least it was brief. Her claws were going to be the hard part.
See, pig demon claws weren't like a typical demon's claws or human’s nails– they were thick, sturdy, and as wide as the finger itself. In fact, the term “nail clipper” is a bit of a misnomer for them, due to it being more of a file than anything. For piglet demons, the tips have to be either filed completely flat, or trimmed off with the thick clipping part. This is mostly so the kid doesn't accidentally hurt themselves or others. However, both clipping or filing takes some getting used to, triggering a lot of weird nerves. Li Na didn’t like the sensations, even on a good day, so…
If she wasn't at risk for hurting herself, Pigsy would've just not done it at all.
Already knowing she was going to hate this, he worked quickly to pin her arm down, getting a good grip on her thumb, and before she so much as blink, he snipped.
Almost instantly, Li Na screeched, kicking and pulling her arm as best she could as she refused to let him take her next finger, curling them into a tight fist.
Pigsy’s eye twitched again, muttering curses under his breath. A sharp, annoying headache from before reformed, while he tried to pry her hand open. The headache only got worse with each second though, as Li Na’s high pitched cry continued on and on and on. The hours of plain old crying were obnoxious, sure, but the shrieking was threatening to make his ears bleed and skull split in two.
“Just hold still, kid,” Pigsy huffed. “It'll be over much faster if you just hold still.”
Li Na didn't care about what Pigsy had to say, and when he went for the second finger, she shrieked even louder.
Pigsy growled as his headache flared. Again, Pigsy had to pry her fist open, but the second the clippers were in position again, she let out a banshee cry, and a sharp wave of peach magic burned Pigsy's skin.
Something in Pigsy snapped, causing him to slam his fist against the table. “Goddammit kid! I'm not hurting you, I'm not killing you, you are fine!” He picked her up, fire in his veins. “You are fine! If you would just shut up–” He grabbed her shoulders and went to–
Immediately, the fire went ice cold, the chef frozen in fear.
To shake her. Pigsy was going to shake her.
Immediately, the chef went to the crib and set her down. Tears still streamed down her face, even if the cries of bloody murder ended, but Pigsy’s hands still shook nonetheless as he backed away.
For her safety, he quickly exited, and even locked the door behind him before collapsing onto the floor in tears of his own.
Why? Why would he do that? Was he an idiot? He knew– he knew how serious shaken baby syndrome was, and he nearly– he was a monster– why would he do that? Why would he hurt her– he would never hurt her, he–
The phantom pain from just a day before returned, taking his uterus and twisting it tight. The feeling of death crawled over him, bringing the rest of him to the ground as he folded in on himself.
The memories, the pain, he had repressed them for so long, but now they had a vicegrip on him. It was all he could do to cry, weak and defeated, just as his miscarriages had always left him before.
And now he almost killed his Li Na, all just for being sick. He was the one who was sick, who couldn't do anything right, who killed everything he touched, he–
Pigsy heard the apartment door swing open and frantic footsteps stopping right in front of him. Pigsy could barely breathe, the guilt and emptiness completely and totally suffocating.
“–igsy, what's wrong? Where is Li Na? Is she okay?” He could hear his husband ask. The question makes Pigsy shrivel further, too afraid to confess to the crime he nearly committed.
He felt Tang reach out, but hesitate. He shook the door handle, startled it was locked. The key was right on the floor next to the chef though. Pigsy wasn't surprised by how quickly he took it and stepped over him to their daughter. Pigsy covered his ears to shut out the crying, and Tang’s soft, ever-patient cooing.
Pigsy hated himself.
He knew MK would be home soon, but he couldn't face him like this. Weak as he was, Pigsy still got himself up and into his bedroom, where he curled back up in defeat.
He was just in time for the front door to swing open, the aroma of takeout filling the apartment, along with the shuffle of paper bags.
Pigsy hated himself.
He hated how this kept happening. How he'd think he'd get better, but something would always remind him of how violent, how poisonous he was underneath. He liked hurting people. He liked taking out his frustrations on others. All these years and nothing changed, nothing ever changed– he was delusional, he–
“Pigsy..?” Tang knocked softly on the door, but let himself in regardless. “Pigsy, what's wrong? What happened?”
Pigsy shook his head, curling tighter as his sobs burned his throat raw.
He felt Tang slowly sit on the bed, his hand inches from his back. “MK took Li Na into the bathroom to sit in the steam for a while. She's already pretty responsive.”
Good. MK was good with her, always had been.
Tang’s hand inched closer. “Honey, I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong– are you hurt? It looks like Li Na tried to push you away again.” He must've noticed the scorch marks.
After a while of Pigsy not answering, Tang sighed. “I'll get you a glass of water.”
Before Pigsy could protest, he was gone.
Pigsy couldn't tell him what was wrong. How could he? If he knew what he'd done, how he'd lied to him for years by hiding his miscarriages, how he almost hurt their only alive one, how he was spiraling out of control all over again and ignoring every piece of advice he'd ever gotten– Why couldn't things just be easier? Why couldn't his mind just– just calm down for five minutes?
“Alright, I'm back–”
“Tang, I'm sorry.” The words rushed from his lips. “I-I– I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Tang, I'm so, so sorry.” He covered his face.
“No, no, honey, it's okay.” Tang rushed to his side of the bed, kneeling where the chef could see and cupping his face. “I'm right here, everyone's okay.”
Pigsy shook his head.
Tang cringed at himself. “R-right, well– well we’re as okay as we can be… except for you.”
Pigsy closed his eyes. “Tang, I– I lied to you, I–”
Tang's face fell, his hand quickly lowering. “Drink some water first, okay? I want you to answer my questions first.” He held his hand briefly while giving him the glass with his other.
Pigsy hesitated but nodded.
He owed him that much.
He took a drink, his tears calming to a more reasonable pace now while Tang moved to sit at the foot of the bed. He watched Pigsy, a mix of heartbreak, exhaustion, concern, and confusion written on his face.
“Pigsy… Pigsy, I– I love you… you know that, right?” Tang asked, hands wringing the sleeves of his changpao.
Pigsy nodded again.
Tang loved him, he loved him so much despite.
“Why was Li Na’s door locked? What happened?” Tang looked into his eyes, his fists clenched even tighter.
Pigsy shook his head. “I-it was my fault– I-I let MK go, to get some food n’ groceries.” He tried desperately to not choke on the lump of guilt in his throat. “But Li Na, she– I just couldn't take it anymore! I-I– I wanted to hurt her, Tang, a-and– and I came so close– I-I had to protect her,” Pigsy confessed all at once, squeezing the glass of water so hard he thought it might break.
“Oh, honey.” Tang wiped away his tears before hugging him tight. “It's okay. I know you feel bad, but you did the right thing, giving her space–”
Pigsy shook his head. “I’m a monster, Tang– I can't help her.”
Tang kissed his forehead. “We talked about this before– and besides, you didn't hurt her. It's just been a lot, which god knows I don't blame you for.” Tang squeezed a little tighter.
Again, Pigsy shook his head. “The– the car crash–”
“That wasn't your fault,” Tang interrupted. “And I know it's hard, but I promise she still loves you, she's just… she's just a little miserable right now.”
“But– but if I had shook ‘er– if I'd killed her–”
“You didn't, Pigsy, you didn't, it's okay.” Tang put his hands on his shoulders. “You did what all the books said and immediately set her down and gave yourself some space. You are a good parent, Pigsy.”
The words, so soft and sweet, were like a dagger to Pigsy's stomach, the knife twisting deeper and deeper, pain throbbing in his lower abdomen. Somehow, he managed to keep his composure hanging by a thread.
“I'm not,” he whispered. “I… I lied to you.”
He could see Tang tense visibly, his eyes widening as he clearly questioned if this should continue or not.
“H-... How did you… lie to me?” Tang pressed on.
Pigsy took a deep breath, digging his claws into his arms to try and ground himself. “I… I never told you. I didn't just– I didn't just lose our first three attempts, I–” Pigsy clenched his jaw, fighting back the bitter tears. Heat rose in his chest, mixing with the pain in a nauseating stew.
“How many…?” Tang's voice was quiet.
Pigsy didn't dare look at him. “Two… technically three. Twins.”
Tang stood, walking away from him and the bed to stand by the closet. He became unnaturally still there, causing Pigsy to grow more anxious by the second. Moments that felt like forever passed, causing Pigsy to become desperate for Tang to do anything– say anything. He wanted him to yell, or cry, or scream, or accuse him, or slap him or something. The silence was killing him. But even more minutes passed, before Tang suddenly sniffled.
“I keep… I keep wanting to ask why,” Tang said. “Why you’d– why you’d hide this from me, why you wouldn’t tell me– but– but I know the answer, don’t I?” He still didn’t turn back.
Pigsy never felt more pathetic in his life. “I… I couldn’t break your heart like that again–”
“Well you did.”
Pigsy closed his sore eyes. “I know.”
More moments passed, the air thick and heavy. It was impossible to breathe like this, but neither of them could move if they wanted to.
“...When?”
Pigsy curled tighter. “You were gone on your trip that fourth time– that trip to Cambodia. I couldn’t call you. Those were the twins. Last one was ten years ago, when MK was twelve or so.”
He could see Tang flinch, numbers spinning in his head as he put it all together. He crossed his arms, as if fighting off the cold truth crawling over him– that same feeling of death that haunted Pigsy for over a decade now. He shook it off to ask another question.
“How’d they know it was twins?” His voice was barely audible.
“Lost a lotta blood,” Pigsy confessed. “They said I was 14 weeks, n’ they found the remains of two– two–” he couldn’t finish his sentence, his chest pounding and begging for cries he could barely force down.
“Jesus Christ," Tang whispered, his fingers pulling on his scarf. “How’d they–”
“I begged them not to call you, Tang.” His voice cracked. “You were so far away, you couldn’t have come back– we couldn’t afford a plane, and it wouldn’t’ve changed anything–”
“I would have known, Pigsy,” Tang cut him off. “That makes a world of a difference.”
Pigsy could only lower his eyes in shame.
More quiet, a bitter flavor this time. Tang crossed his arms again, his fingers digging into his sleeves.
“You know, I– I know you–... It wasn't to protect me.” Tang finally looked back. “You’re a coward, like me. You– you can't have the hard conversations, so you run from your problems, you– you hide, and hide, and hide because you hate yourself so goddamn much, you can't even let others love you.” Tang blinked away tears. “You're a coward.”
Pigsy's heart sank. “Tang–”
“You weren't thinking about me– all you were thinking about was you and how hard it would be for you to tell me– for you to see me hurt. You didn't care how much it meant to me– what our children meant to me–”
Blood drained from Pigsy’s face. “Tang–”
Tang suddenly turned on his heels, exiting the room with such quickness it left the chef stunned.
This is it, he thought. It's over, it's all over. He's going to leave. You finally pushed him far enough away–
Tang was back in moments, a small storage box in hand he placed on the bed. Before Pigsy could gain the energy to think to speak, he was already unpacking it.
“This,” Tang pulled out a little red blanket, “I ordered online the same day we found that first positive pregnancy test.” He set it down for a pair of shiny baby shoes. “And this I bought on my way home from work before your first sonogram.” He set that down too, pulling out a onesie with– with a rainbow pattern on it. “This– this was for our second one– s-since–” Tears were rapidly filling Tang’s eyes, but he shook his head and continued. “I bought this rattle for them too– I liked the little angel wings,” Tang pointed out, his movement slowing down drastically. “A-and– and I got this for our third.” He took out a small stuffed pig. “B-because– because I wanted them to admire you– a-and how strong you were– how you kept going, e-even when the odds were– even when–” Tang couldn't finish his sentence, breaking down into sobs as he hugged the plush tight.
Pigsy couldn't take it anymore either, leaping across the bed and embracing his husband tight as his own dam burst too. Despite everything, Tang seemed to welcome the touch.
“I loved them, Pigsy,” Tang wept. “I loved each one so much.”
Pigsy hugged him tighter. “I-I’m so sorry, Tang, I'm so–”
Tang shook his head. “It's not even your fault, it– Half of first trimester miscarriages are– are because of sperm health– my health– it wasn’t you, the data, it just– I’ve always been so weak and scrawny, a-and I just– I never tried to fix it, and I should have– I should have…”
Pigsy froze. He– no, it just– that wasn't right, it was– that didn't make any sense. He– it was his fault, not Tang's– that couldn't be right. Tang couldn't hurt a fly, it was Pigsy who was the monster. He hurt everyone, it only made sense, he… Tang blaming himself wasn’t right. It wasn’t right.
“I'm sorry,” Tang croaked. “I'm sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry it happened five times– I-I should've done something– gotten a vasectomy, o-or something–”
“Don't say that,” Pigsy pleaded. “It’s not your fault, you didn't mean to– n’ you're right, I am a coward– I-I couldn't– I didn't want to face it– face you.”
Tang shook his head, but couldn't seem to speak. He just nuzzled his face against Pigsy’s before resting his head atop.
“I'm a coward, too,” he whispered. “I knew– I knew when it– when the third one happened. I didn't want you to blame yourself, but I– I didn't want to take it either…”
Pigsy's heart dropped, nearly pulling away, before coming back twice as strong. “It's not your fault, Tang, a-and–” Pigsy took a deep breath, pushing words past the guilt so embedded in his soul. “And it– it isn't mine either.”
Tang’s eyes widened, before he suddenly squeezed the chef tight, kissing his head before letting out a sad laugh. “I guess in a way, neither of us were meant to be fathers, huh?”
Pigsy huffed in amusement. “The universe works in mysterious ways.”
Tang kissed Pigsy’s head. “I wish I could've helped you…”
“Today, or back then?” Pigsy looked up at him.
“Both,” his husband sighed, nuzzling again. “I can't imagine all that pain, all bottled up and alone…”
Pigsy nodded hesitantly. “Y-yeah… but in a way, it's all I've ever known.”
“God, I hate that.” Tang shook his head. “I hate how much you suffer, I–” he paused, slowly breaking the embrace just enough to meet Pigsy’s eyes. “I want you to get help.”
Pigsy looked away. “Tang–”
“I know, I know, you have your ‘reservations’, but– but maybe it could even be the two of us, healing from this together.” Tang held his hand and squeezed it tight.
Pigsy squeezed it back, but not in agreement.
“I want you to be happy– for us to be happy… or at least, not being so scared of ourselves and our instincts.” Tang stroked his hand with his thumb.
Pigsy bit his lip, exhausted tears welling up in his eyes. “I wanted to hurt her, Tang.”
“But you didn't.” Tang nuzzled again. “You're not a monster, you're just exhausted.”
Pigsy huffed in a tired disbelief. In need of a subject change, his eyes wandered back to the objects on the bed. “I… I thought we– I thought I tossed everything out.”
Tang followed his gaze. “These were meant to be surprises– gifts for later… I didn't have the heart to throw them out– or even to give them to Li Na… they don't belong to her, you know?”
The tears made their escape once more, as Pigsy nodded.
Tang finally broke the hug, going to pick up the red blanket. “...I named them, you know? I named each one… thought of their personalities and looks…”
Pigsy looked at the blanket too. “I… I never let myself… I thought…”
“Our oldest is a girl,” Tang said, stroking the soft, if aged, fabric. “Aijia. She's a fighter like you, and would wrestle and tussle with MK all the time. She'd come home bloody knuckled, but you'd teach her to pick her battles better.” Tang chuckled sadly.
Pigsy sniffled. “Who'd she look like?”
Tang smiled softly. “She’d have a human face and features, but ears like yours. She’d also have long, dark hair she'd always keep in a braid.”
Pigsy closed his eyes. “What else..?”
Tang took a shaky breath. “Our second was a boy– Baojun. He and you could be basically twins, except for the big glasses he wore,” he chuckled. “He'd be a coward like me, but MK would be good at keeping him safe. Not many friends, but… but he'd have his fantasy books.”
Pigsy chuckled too, his eyes landing sadly on the onesie and rattle. “A life of fantasy, huh?”
Tang gave a tired shrug. “It always felt fitting for us… little did I know, right?”
More tears fell.
Tang locked one of his arms in Pigsys, before tracing the stitching on the plush pig. “Our third was a girl too– Leying. She was trans, and you three would love to joke how I was the odd one out.”
“Hey, don't be too sad, there's still time for that,” Pigsy tried to tease, bringing a pained smile to Tang's face.
“Leying would look like a perfect blend of us. She'd have your eyes, my skin, your nose, my height, your ears, my hair– her personality even moreso. She wouldn't like to fight, but she'd have a mean right hook– and would make us lots of random crochet projects, to the point we don't know what to do with it. You'd be so protective of her– we all would but– but we all loved her so much a-and– a-and–” Tang lost himself to his crying again, and Pigsy quickly handed him a tissue and his glass of water. Only the former was accepted.
“I-I know what you're thinking– I-I know this is all so silly, b-but–”
“I don't think it's silly, Tang,” Pigsy refuted. “I-I– I think it's beautiful– you– I had no idea you ever thought so much about them.”
Tang shrugged again, wiping his eyes. “Less, as the years passed, but… sometimes something would happen, and… I'd wonder,” he admitted, his posture still shrinking in shame.
“Tang, c’mon, don't be like that.” Pigsy held his hands. “I– I wanna hear about the twins and our sixth.”
Tang shook his head, letting go. “I don't know, I never– I never got them anything…” he stared down at the plushie again, hot tears rapidly falling as he threatened to lose himself again.
Oh boy…
Pigsy wasn't exactly a storyteller like Tang… but he had to try.
“I… think they were a girl and a boy… kinda. I think the second– well, I don't know if either of them would be too into the gender thing. They always had a rebellious soul– at least Twin 1 did,” Pigsy tried to joke, half cringing with each word.
Despite that, Tang sat up a little. “Y-yeah? What else?”
Pigsy thought for a moment. “I think they both looked just like you.”
Tang’s face fell flat as he rolled his eyes. “No, you don't–”
“Yes, I do. I think the three of you together could've been triplets.” Pigsy put his foot down. “Twin 1 even got glasses, but that doesn't stop them from getting into constant fights.”
Tang tried to hide a smile, twisting the tissue in his hands. “And does Twin 2 join in?”
Pigsy shook his head. “Nah, he's more sensitive and reasonable, like you. Twin 1’s a real firecracker and someone's gotta keep her in check, especially since MK’s so busy with monkey business.”
Tang laughed weakly. “We’d be completely outnumbered.”
“And out of our depth, no doubt about that.” Pigsy snorted, even though deep down his heart ached.
Tang wiped his eyes again, before cozying closer to his husband. “...you ever give them names?”
Pigsy didn’t think he needed to respond.
His husband nodded slowly, setting the toy pig down and contemplating, which Pigsy took as a turn to rest his weary, burning eyes. Despite everything, it felt good to have this moment with Tang, to feel his embrace and smell his scent. He didn't realize how desperately he had needed it before, but now it was evident more than ever that he loved his husband and hated being apart more than anything.
“...Shiya. Shiya and Weilai,” Tang suddenly spoke.
Poetic elegance and the coming future.
“I like that, Tang,” Pigsy smiled a little.
Tang laughed the look off, wiping his eyes again. “What about our sixth..?”
Pigsy gave it some thought. “I think… another girl. She wouldn't be afraid of anything, not MK’s adventures, or demons, or apocalypses, or nothing. She'd brag about her brother in school and show off any scar like a badge of honor.”
Tang chuckled. “A real heart attack.”
“Helps she's so cute, with those thick rimmed glasses.” Pigsy pushed him playfully.
“Well, I bet she looks just like you then,” Tang teased too.
“Eh, I’d say a healthy balance– your eyes, your glasses, your incessant need for winter wear, and then maybe some pig features,” Pigsy disagreed.
Tang let out a laugh– a real laugh. “You're impossible.”
Pigsy smiled. “I bet she'd like looking at bugs, and she'd scare you with them all the time.”
“Pigsy, shush, you're going to give Li Na ideas,” Tang laughed.
“She's nineteen weeks, and can't hear us from here anyway,” Pigsy countered.
“You're practically manifesting it metaphysically.” His husband shook his head.
“Well, if she does, then we’ll know it's from– it'll be from her, like a– a sign from the afterlife… right?” Pigsy didn't know if that was the right thing to say, especially when he saw how it made Tang pause.
“Y-yeah, I– it would be, wouldn't it?” He smiled sadly. “A message from– from Feiying.” Tang closed his eyes, to imagine her.
Pigsy closed his eyes too, a chubby little pig girl wearing a big winter hat and boots appearing with a mop of dark brown hair– before his pain appeared again, and threatened to wrench his gut.
“She'd’ve been ten years old, Tang,” he said. “It's not fair.”
“I know, Pigsy, I know, it’s not fair at all,” Tang agreed, wiping his face. “I wish they were real– and I know– I know they are in a way, but– but I wish I could hold them.”
Pigsy couldn’t help but agree as he let Tang cry into his shoulder. He loved Li Na more than anything in the whole world, but it was becoming clear that she didn’t automatically fix the hole in his heart.
Counseling. Pigsy hated counseling, or therapy, or however anyone wanted to dress it up. Experiences in the past were always less than helpful, leaving him feeling more isolated and alone than before he started. They never understood him, or his problems– not really. Some would assume his issues were tied with his weight, others refused to respect his pronouns. Every medical field felt the same to him. Even reuniting with Sandy wasn’t enough to convince him. He had made up his mind years ago that if the way he lived was enough to keep himself alive, then there was no need for intervention.
But he couldn’t keep spiraling like this. Li Na needed him, he couldn't keep running away, panicking, and locking doors. He needed to be able to be there for his family, more than he’d ever been before. Everything was so fragile right now, and he– he needed to be better. He couldn’t keep hurting them like this.
“I’m sorry, Tang.” Pigsy kissed his head. “I’m sorry we lost them. I’m sorry I never talked about them, or– or let you. I’m sorry I shouted all those harmful things for years about not being a father. I’m sorry for not knowing or– or caring I was hurting you.”
Tang changed the grip on Pigsy’s arm into a one-armed hug, squeezing him tight wordlessly.
“I… I want to be better, Tang,” Pigsy looked at him. “I want to be better, I– I want to know how to… how to live, and not hate myself.”
That was enough to pull Tang out, his eyes wide as he rapidly blinked away tears. “You mean–?”
“I’ll try counseling with you, Tang,” Pigsy said. “I… I want to be a better father, for MK and for Li Na, and… a better husband for you.”
“Oh, Pigsy,” Tang practically leapt to crush him in a bear hug, causing them to fall over on the bed, laying down. “Thank you.”
Pigsy blushed, but accepted the cuddle, and overwhelming warmth and comfort soothing his previous pains and anxieties. He could honestly stay like this forever– but hearing the shower finally turn off in the other room reminded him of the outside world.
“Li Na probably needs us by now– or at least, MK,” Pigsy sighed, soaking up the last few moments of the embrace.
“And if not them, then the food for sure– I'm starving,” Tang half-joked.
Pigsy rolled his eyes, going to sit up when Tang pulled him back down and kissed him. He gave his husband a teasing look.
Tang laughed. “Yeah, yeah I know, I know, but… thank you. For everything today. I know this isn't easy– and we can even talk more later if you need, and–”
Pigsy kissed him back. “We will.”
Tang smiled. “Thanks.”
“Anytime,” Pigsy said, and this time he really, really, really meant it.
