'Cause after all this time

Still don't know where we're going

But look how far we've come

And as long as you're just as lost as I am

I'll hold you in the morning

Like we're the lucky ones

~"Lucky Ones," Lights

His abdomen felt like Wang Lung's foot was still stuck to it, like his organs had been grated, like bones had been embedded in muscle and vein. Was it possible to be in this much pain, or was this the dead version of hell?

He cracked his eyelids open.

"You're very lucky," an older voice told him.

Huh? Yut-Lung pushed himself up on his elbows. He gaped at a man with a bushy beard, draped in a white coat. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm a doctor," he said. "Your friends brought you here. The blood vessels in your liver were damaged; I had to—"

You almost killed me, Wang-Lung! Of course it would be his brother, his stupid brother. Hatred stung Yut-Lung in his palms. It was always their fault. No matter how hard he struggled, they managed to beat him down. He curled his fists. I have to beat you down. I have to. I am not trash. "Where am I?"

"You need to rest."

"Where am I?" Did his brothers know where he was? The last thing he remembered was—he'd been talking to Sing—Sing, you idiot! "How long have I been here?"

"You came in last night; it's around five in the morning now."

"Shit." His brothers would know he was gone. "Where's my phone?"

"Your friends have it." The doctor clucked his tongue.

Friends? Yut-Lung gaped.

"I had to do an emergency surgery and give you two bags of blood. The injury looked at least a day old. You should have come in sooner."

Motherfucker! Though—did that mean the doctor didn't know who he was? Yut-Lung swallowed. His throat was so dry it felt like swallowing sand. "Where are these friends?"

"Outside."

Yut-Lung surged forward to get up. His head spun. It felt like fire exploded against his side, burning flesh and bone. He cried out.

"Lie back," the doctor snapped, grabbing him by his shoulders and pushing him back. "You need to rest. It'll be at least another day until you're on your feet."

Fuck you! Yut-Lung did not like being pushed back, told to lie still. He'd had enough of that. And he was just starting to make headway—my jacket. Sing had better not have messed with it. He had the vials of Banana Fish in the pockets. If—

Panic grappled for his throat. He wanted to scream. He had to—

The door opened, and Sing stumbled in, followed by—Shorter Wong. Yut-Lung's eyes narrowed.

"Back from the almost-dead," Sing commented. "I thought you might be faking, but when you didn't respond when I mentioned your—"

"What are you doing here?" Yut-Lung demanded to the other one. The one who really was the reason he was here.

Shorter gestured to himself. "Paying back your favor. You saved my life, I saved yours."

He did not just lose that advantage. Wang-Lung, you really do ruin everything. "That doesn't count!"

"It does too," countered Shorter, hands in his pockets.

Yut-Lung squeezed his eyes shut. His chest heaved.

"Here're your things," Sing added, shoving a bag at him. "He said you'd have died if you waited another hour for medical attention. Did Golzine kick your ass at some point?"

"No." Yut-Lung fumbled inside the plastic bag. His jacket, vials still safe. One. Two, three. All there. He exhaled. His phone was here too. He didn't quite know whether he wanted to turn it on just yet.

"Then who did?" asked Shorter. "So I can shake their hand."

"I fell down the stairs."

"So, your brothers," Sing surmised.

"Shut up!" Yut-Lung glared at his phone's blank screen. "Maybe I'll just tell them you kidnapped me."

"They keep you on that short of a leash?" asked Shorter, arching his eyebrows. The light glinted against his piercing.

"If you say that I will ask the doctor to cut off your pain medication," Sing retorted.

Yut-Lung scowled. "I wasn't really going to."

"What did you do to piss them off? Do they know about your plans to kill them or—"

"Shut up!" Yut-Lung squeezed his eyes shut. "No, they found out I helped you escape."

Shorter said nothing. When Yut-Lung glanced at him, he saw Shorter's lips pressed together. Does it really bother you that someone you hate got hurt for helping you?

It couldn't. It was just misplaced guilt, and Yut-Lung could use it. Then again, did it really bother Yut-Lung that someone he hated hated him? Or maybe he didn't hate Shorter or Sing. In fact he rather liked Sing, even if the brat was annoying. He had a spunk Yut-Lung wished he had. Shorter had a charisma that could be useful.

"Shit," said Sing. "So are they onto us?"

"Not yet. Probably not, anyways." Yut-Lung reached for his phone and hesitated. He could only imagine what they'd say to him now. Then again, it was their fault he was here and not at home. "They're probably more worried my existence will get out." Soon, everyone will know. I exist. I exist. I exist. He was in pain and breathing and here.

"Why is it a secret?" asked Sing. "I didn't know until you showed up with a goddamn helicopter. I've only heard of the six Lee sons."

Yut-Lung bit his tongue. "My mother was not their mother. She was my father's mistress that he took later in life." A stereotypical secret bastard child.

They never forgave his mother for making their mother cry.

"She was a slut, so you're one too."

"It was all she was good for; I'm sure it's all he's good for too," said Wang-Lung, Hua-Lung's arms around Yut-Lung. "Have at it."

Footsteps, walking away.

He still didn't know if "it" was the deed or himself.

"I have a half-brother," said Sing. "We don't always get along, but he's still my brother."

You are too nice. Yut-Lung managed a sigh. "That is not how our family operates. They sent me in there to gather information, and I put that at risk. Their anger is understandable." Even if it only existed because they were too narrow-minded to consider what he'd considered. That Shorter was worth more alive than dead. That Yut-Lung existed as his own person, not just his mother's son.

Even if he would have been content just being that, her son. He couldn't be, because of them, because they stole her.

"I don't know," said Sing. "I mean, they almost killed you."

He turned away from them. His brain felt heavy, weighted with memories. He shifted his hair so that it would cover the bruise on his neck from where Wang Lung choked him. They would probably find it funny, him being choked by his hair.

Then again, he supposed they knew. They knew he didn't save Shorter out of the goodness of his heart, because he had none. And he didn't even have loved ones, and they knew that, beyond a shadow of a doubt, now. Not even family.

"They have the Banana Fish," he said. "It's over. They won't let me back in the house after they find out you two saved me. They'll never trust me again." He tightened his grip on the vials inside the jacket. He had to work this out. He had to. He couldn't give up. Shorter and Sing weren't foolish enough to trust him. But if he could play on that sympathy, even to the smallest degree, maybe he'd be able to claw his way into what he'd always been dreaming of.

What's that?

He wasn't even sure, but he knew his brothers would all be dead. "You should have let me die."

In truth, he knew, they probably should have, but not out of concern for him.

Shorter hesitated outside of the place Ash and Eiji were crashing. He cussed. He didn't like this feeling, the uncertainty, the wavering. It was stupid. He and Ash had been best friends since—

Best friends didn't sell each other out. Arthur'd always been a piece of work. But Shorter… He avoided glancing at his reflection in the windows he passed. He studied his fingers, unmarked.

He swallowed. He had no idea what happened to Eiji, but he knew Golzine's plan. And I ran out. To save my own skin.

I came back, but was it enough?

The one thing Shorter Wong had never considered himself was a coward. He didn't hesitate to kill, if it was necessary. He didn't mind scaring bastards and rats. If he minded, he wouldn't be alive right now, and neither would Nadia. Ash was restrained, holding himself back from killing unless he had to, as if he was afraid of something, as if his features might morph into Arthur's. And even though fear was something Shorter fucking hated, there were times he had wished he could be afraid. Like Ash, or like Eiji, even. He'd never been one for if onlies, but now, fear coiled around him, and it was a fear like Ash's. Of himself.

The door swung open. Shorter stiffened. Alex and Bones emerged. "Shorter!"

He waved. "Ash inside?" I am not scared. Fuck off.

"With Eiji," they confirmed.

Well, he had no choice now. Shorter ducked inside, heading up the stairs and into the decaying apartment. Graffiti marked the walls, slit by years of use and bleeding gray stone and crumbling concrete.

"Shorter!" Eiji dropped what looked like a loaf of bread onto a plate and scrambled over. Was he making sandwiches? "You're—okay!" He stopped, face reddening.

I'm okay? What about you? "Worry about yourself," he said gruffly.

"Shorter," said Ash's voice. He emerged, hair damp, from the bathroom. Shorter felt guilt, hot and thick, wrapping around his spine. "Wanna talk?"

Shorter nodded. He flopped onto the fraying couch. A spring creaked.

"Want a sandwich?" called Eiji.

"They're shitty Japanese sandwiches," Ash warned him. "With tofu."

"You like my sandwiches! You eat them!"

"It's that or starve!"

Shorter almost smiled. He'd never seen Ash like this with anyone. Not even with him, and they were friends. Brothers, really.

"So," Ash said, gripping his ankle. "I know, okay, Shorter? You have your sister to worry about. I just—"

"It wasn't like that," Shorter blurted out. "I mean—" His heartbeat echoed in his ears. "Fuck, I mean, yes, they did threaten Nadia. She's living at Charlie's right now. And Yut-Lung—every time I tried to tell you, he was there—they told me to go and leave Eiji, but I wouldn't. I said I'd kill Eiji and then myself before I left him to that pack of rats." He lowered his face, remembering the hilt of the knife pressed against his palm.

"Thank you," Eiji said quietly. He put three plates down with some weird sandwiches on them.

"Thank me?" Shorter snorted. "I got you kidnapped, and I—"

"But you had a good reason," Eiji insisted. He dropped down next to Ash, gripping his knees. "I knew you did—I knew you wouldn't have—Shorter, I know you—"

"You clearly—"

"I know," said Ash. "Shorter, I don't blame you. I blame Golzine, and Arthur. Golzine'll find a way to fuck up every single thing I have. You and I are no different."

Of course.

Ash could never truly trust him again. Especially now that this wasn't over. Shorter wouldn't let him. His shoulders slumped. "And then I left you, anyways, Eiji. Yut-Lung said they were going to inject me with Banana Fish—from what you said happened to the bodyguard—" That would have been me. Trying to kill Eiji. Shorter's stomach turned at the thought. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to leave you to that asshole. I don't know what he did, but—"

"He didn't actually—" Eiji stopped. His face was redder than a tomato. "I mean, we got the phone call that you were all back, before he could—hurt either of us. Yut-Lung untied me, and Dino left, and that was that."

Ash's face turned green, and purple, like a bruise. Guilt, again, reflected like a mirror.

Guilt was a merciless bastard. At least we have that in common.

"Look," said Shorter. "I know I can't exactly—work with you guys anymore. But you should know. Yut-Lung was planning on offing his brothers with Banana Fish, but then they beat him and almost killed him, so now he's at the same doctor's who treated your brother, Ash, and now his brothers have Banana Fish, which means I'm sure Golzine and Arthur are about to get their hands on it again."

Ash swore. He gripped the edge of the couch, avoiding looking at Eiji. His jaw tightened.

Shorter hated himself for telling Ash. He had to, though. Or else there was no chance. Nightmares would close in on them, chew them up, spit them out. This is our life, Eiji. We run on fear. We make others cower or we cower ourselves.

We forget it, though, when we're with friends.

"I think if you were to offer to support him, he'd help you get rid of them, and it," Shorter said. "Sing wanted me to bring it up."

"Shorter, you really aren't in control of the Chinese anymore?" asked Eiji.

Shorter snorted. "No, I still am. Just behind Sing's face. But he's the one who actually saved Yut-Lung's ass from dying. So Chinatown—some of us—will help."

"Too bad," said Ash. "I hate Yut-Lung. I hate him so much. He—"

"Is a lying snake," said Shorter. "Like all of his family. He won't be any better than they would be. He might be able to get you what you want, though."

"I don't trust him," said Ash. "He'd betray me if he thought it could—"

"True," said Eiji. "I mean, he—I feel like I saw his true colors in that—bedroom." Eiji paled. "He'd sell Ash out to Golzine if it would benefit him."

"Sing thinks it's smart to keep him close," admitted Shorter.

"What do you think?" Ash asked.

Shorter met Ash's gaze. "I'll do what you think."

"What do you think?" Ash asked again. "I trust you. Within reason. But I do trust you."

Please don't.

I'd rather see what I'm afraid of. Monsters were easy to stare down. When they snuck up on you, when it was too dark to see your hand in front of you, to see if your hand was marked or not, you fell apart.

"I don't trust him," Shorter said. "But I trust you, and Sing's a smart kid. Reminds me of you in some ways. We can work out a loose arrangement. If he shows any snake-like behavior, and he will, I'll end him." He may have saved his life, but now Shorter had saved his, and the clock started again. And this time, he wouldn't take a risk. This time, he wouldn't betray Ash or Eiji or any of them.

Ash met his eyes and nodded. Eiji studied a loose thread in the cushions.

Ash, you are a stupid fucking angel.

But like an angel, he was giving him another chance, and Shorter was a selfish dick for taking it, and he only hated himself more.

Yut-Lung pretended to sleep so Sing would leave. Of course, then he actually fell asleep because the doctor put more medicine in his IV. He woke when the sky turned blood orange outside, dyeing the sunlight falling onto the cot he lay on. He grabbed his phone and finally turned it on. Texts poured in. Threats, of course.

He dialed. Hua-Lung would be easier to talk to. Yut-Lung could manage to sound flirty over the phone. His stomach churned.

"Where the fuck are you?" erupted Hua-Lung's voice.

"Relax," said Yut-Lung. "I have to. I mean, I'm in a goddamn hospital."

Hua-Lung sucked in his breath. "Are you—"

"You can tell Wang-Lung he almost killed me the other day. Apparently I was bleeding internally. From my liver. I passed out and a good Samaritan got me to the hospital." He fiddled with his hair, running his free hand through it, stretching his fingers towards the light.

"Are you serious, Yut-Lung?"

"Unfortunately."

"He didn't mean it."

"I know. I know he wouldn't kill me. I'm too useful to him." He kept his other brothers distracted and was smart enough. And he could be whored out to any ally. "Actually, Hua-Lung, Shorter Wong found me."

"What?" His brother's tone changed. "Where is—"

"I don't think I need to tell you just yet."

"Excuse—"

"It was pretty obvious that one of you delivered the blow to my abdomen," Yut-Lung said casually. He tugged on a strand of hair and frowned as one came out. He dropped the dead strand onto the floor. "But he's still loyal to Ash. Too loyal."

"I'll send someone for his sister."

"She's with her cop boyfriend."

"That doesn't matter."

"Doesn't it?" Yut-Lung leaned his head back. "I can, perhaps, work with them and report to you."

"They'd never trust you."

"They don't necessarily have to. They certainly aren't idiots for thinking I might resent someone trying to kill me. And I did save his life."

"Don't try to argue you had this planned."

"I didn't. I'm simply trying to make the best of the situation and amend my earlier mistakes. Unless you have no further concerns with Ash or Golzine, but I think we both know we do."

"You overestimate Wang-Lung's faith in you."

"He just put his foot through my liver," Yut-Lung pointed out.

Hua-Lung exhaled. "I'll talk to him and ask him to call you."

"Thank you." Yut-Lung cleared his throat. "My loyalty is to the Lee family. You know that." He softened his tone.

"I do," Hua-Lung confirmed. "I don't doubt you, Yut-Lung."

He hated the way his name sounded in his brother's voice. His hair felt heavy and thick now. He wanted to shower.

"He needs a little extra convincing," said Wang-Lung. "I'm sure you won't mind sharing, Hua-Lung." He crouched down, reaching for Yut-Lung, who was still stupid enough to look up at his other brother in a futile hope that he would save him. The lightbulb glowed too bright, obscuring Hua-Lung's face, but he let go of Yut-Lung's shoulder and he found himself in the bed of a man he'd never met before and hatred for Hua-Lung that rivaled Wang-Lung surging inside him.

Wang-Lung taught him chess in the days following that business partner. And then Yut-Lung understood. I am your pawn. He was a sacrificial lamb, he was a toy to be pimped out and given away and used however they needed to bring them the firmest grip on Chinatown.

It had been years since they played chess, but Yut-Lung knew how to play now, knew how to improve, had beaten every level on the app on his phone, played on his own when he could. If we played now, Wang-Lung, I could beat you.

I would. I will.

"I'm just supposed to trust you to check in?" Wang-Lung demanded when he called. "I—"

"Quiet, brother," said Yut-Lung. "You almost killed me. I believe that if Shorter starts talking about that, it will create an issue for the family."

"I can kill him."

"Yes, but you can't kill his influence. Everyone in Chinatown loves him. They fear us."

"Then we will make them even more afraid."

Yut-Lung pressed his lips together. "I hear Ash stole the vials of Banana Fish. And that the drug isn't as typical as we thought."

Wang-Lung exhaled. "If you wanted an apartment of your own, Yut-Lung, you could have just asked."

"You'd have said no."

"I'd have said yes and made myself a key."

"You have no reason to doubt me," said Yut-Lung. "I will do whatever it takes to procure Banana Fish. If we can figure it out and sell it, then—"

"Fine," said Wang-Lung. "I relent. But don't look over your shoulder. Again, I won't kill you."

So people would be watching him. "I'd expect nothing less of you." Yut-Lung hung up. Something strange twinged in his stomach, but it wasn't pain. His face felt stretched. He reached up his hands.

Oh. He was smiling, but without a reason.

No, for a reason.

He felt like he could breathe.