Apriltober 2022 01 (Lao request)

a/n: Life on Earth with the Huang family, or, why Lao doesn't sleep.

Illness, snipers, small swears. Not quite canon. Editing? No.

All the good things belong to Monolith Soft.

Lao Huang's insomnia didn't start on Mira. It didn't even start during the terrible time on the Whale, when the closed corridors rang 24-7 with people unable to handle their losses. It started on Earth, although not many people noticed it, maybe only his wife. Even she wasn't sure, and she definitely didn't know the reason why.

He'd just come back from some terrible mission in an awkward place. The mission wasn't to blame. He'd looked through his sights, watched the laughter in the men surrounding his target, the way the worry lines around his mouth were still deep even though his lips were smiling. Then he'd pulled the trigger. He'd finished packing before the clear message came through, but he'd never been one to waste time waiting. He was good then, better than he was later on Mira, and he'd been the best on Mira.

Smaller pool to excel in, his brain would whisper. Still good enough.

Getting safely to an international airport was a bit of trouble, borders to ignore, eyes to evade, but he'd rolled up to the gate, fresh and washed and shaved for a change, trying to act every inch the asshole big game tourist. The majority of his kit was retail. Any inspection wouldn't notice the finer points that couldn't be purchased legally, and what if they did? He wasn't sweating about being stopped, but it would suck if they seized the rifle, or the scopes that were worth ten times that. It was government property, and he had had legit nightmares about the forms he'd have to file if that happened.

Nothing bad happened. He got on the plane, first class to fit his cover, and zonked out immediately. The air hostess apologized when she woke him with the popping of knock-off champagne, but he'd smiled his off-center grin, the one that had charmed the only girl he cared about, and asked for some fresh fruit, if they had it. He'd slurped the chilled mess of unidentified citrus and had fallen asleep with a drop of juice still on his lips.

He'd sucked that spot clean as he waited in Germany, first through a very shallow debrief with a disinterested junior officer, and then a thorough gear checklist that scrutinized everything short of his spine. He'd been loaded on a plane that was so crowded with tourists and families that he'd hadn't moved all the way across the ocean. He managed to doze on and off, but only barely.

The connection in the States was tight, and he couldn't do much more than splash some water on his face and shoot a text to Charmaine. She hadn't responded by the time he needed to board. The short flight was even more crowded, and he was longing for his bed by the time they landed.

He only started to worry when he got to the exit. No one to meet him, none of his girls waiting. They always managed to make it whenever he came back, even if it was past midnight and Chenshi was in her jammies, head bonking sleepily on Charmaine's shoulder in spite of the bright lights and confusion of humanity. If he were less of the ultimate wife-guy, his first feeling would have been anger or disappointment, but Lao shot straight past worry and then panic and into cold calculated procedure. He called her phone, got voicemail. He texted, unread. He called again, same. He called Douglas, waking up the idiot.

"Where's Charmaine?" he asked without greeting.

Doug chuckled, voice thick against pillows. "Let me roll her over and ask her. Sorry, sorry," he added immediately. "What's the deal?"

"You were supposed to ...," Lao started, then stopped as his phone buzzed an incoming text. From Charmaine, thank god. He hung up on Douglas, scanning the text.

/at urgent care sry everything ok getting meds
everything FINE/

Lao ignored the flow of people around him, first as he and his wife flicked texts at each other, then out on the sidewalk where he could find enough quiet to call her. Wherever she was, the clinic pharmacy probably, it was louder than a goddamn airport. The conversation didn't last long, but it was enough to bring his heart back to life.

"Chenshi has an earache, and her fever spiked. She's been screaming all day (she didn't need to tell Lao that; his little girl was demonstrating loud and clear) and I just got so worried. They gave her a shot but she also needs some ..." They'd just managed to make a plan and tack on some "I love yous" when Charmaine had to pick up the scrip. Lao had one vital job now before getting home: to pick up applesauce for Chenshi so they could get the meds down her small and protesting throat.

They'd had to deal with this before. His angel might still be small enough to be carried on one arm, but she had her own will. Not just any applesauce would do. She preferred a specific flavored blend, part apple, part artificial tangerine. Normally, she'd accept other variations of pureed fruit sugar. Let her get the least bit sick? No substitute would be accepted.

He'd talked the driver he'd called into stopping at a quickie mart, but it wasn't too surprising they didn't have it. He'd headed home, planning to be there to check in with Charmaine before he made a more serious grocery run. Maybe it wasn't that bad.

He could hear Chenshi howling from the sidewalk as he tipped the driver. Walking through the door, he dumped his duffel into a pile of laundry. The place was a mess. Chenshi wouldn't even look at him, tugging at her little ear in agony. Charmaine looked even worse than Lao, hair liike a bird's nest, eyes red-rimmed with fatigue.

"Applesauce. I'm on it."

First grocery store he struck out. Second, across town, same. The big mall was closed, but there was one more store, in the next county, that might have it, or so the frightened stock clerk had told him. It wasn't far.

It felt endless, driving through the night. He could almost hear Chenshi crying. He should have brought her along, he realized two stores in. Maybe the drive would have made her sleep. At least he could have let Charmaine sleep a little.

The third store had the goods, marked down as a closeout. Lao bought the entire shelf.

It was almost morning when they'd done it, gotten Chenshi to swallow the meds, cleaned her up, taken showers in turn. Lao had hoped to taken showers not in turn, but the little princess wasn't in the mood to let both of her beloved adults out of her sight just yet. So he'd held her while the first shower ran, then passed her off to Charmaine, who looked even more exhausted than before. Lao padded back to the living room, long hair still damp, to find his two girls, staring blankly at a flickering video.

He'd plucked Chenshi out of Charmaine's lap, nudged his wife so she flopped against him, and settled in to watch the worst cartoon series he'd ever seen. Chenshi loved it, the repetitive dialogue, the cheap music, the characters with their weird football-shaped heads. He loathed it. Charmaine only let Chenshi watch it when Lao was away on assignments. "It numbs my brain better than anything you can buy legally," she would joke.

It was terrible. Charmaine was out before the opening song finished. Chenshi shivered, her face pressed against his chest but with one eye watching the screen, her body radiating too much heat for someone so tiny. He pulled a blanket over the three of them and held his daughter a little tighter.

Later, as the clock ticked close to noon, they'd made pancakes and laughed. Douglas came over, sheepish and contrite for not having done anything. Charmaine had ended up defending the dope. "You know he can't keep a secret, babe. I didn't want him telling you when you were away and making you worry." Lao didn't explain that Douglas had no way of getting in touch with him; if everything had worked correctly, Douglas hadn't even known what continent he was on. They'd laughed together and then he and Douglas had gotten the kitchen inspection-clean while Charmaine "enjoyed" more cartoons, with eyes closed and a soft snore and a miraculously restored child next to her.

Lao never told anyone about what had happened earlier that morning. It was almost dawn, and the living room smelled softly of that damned applesauce, a mockery of the fruit he'd eaten on the plane, was it two days ago now? A window was open, to let in some chilly air, to blow the fever away. The video was only a whisper now, the same loop they'd started with. Chamaine was sound asleep, hadn't shifted since he'd pulled her close, and Chenshi was snuggled against him, her eyes flickering shut.

This is it, he'd thought. This is everything that is important to me. Right here, right now. Maybe he'd feel differently later, but he didn't think so. Outside he could hear the morning birds making the first suggestion of their greetings. It wasn't light, but night was over. This was his everything, in one small, unimportant moment.

Chenshi stirred, pushing away from him and turning her little head to look at him and not the video for the first time. Her eyes were as wide and dark as his. "Daddy." Her voice held more of a baby lisp than usual. Poor thing, she had been really sick, but the meds were working. Already she was cooler.

"Daddy," she said, "we all burn."

She tucked her head against him, eyes closed, fever broken, sleeping as deeply as her mother, his wife, everything that Lao loved.

It wasn't really insomnia on Earth, but no matter how late he went to bed, he always woke up before dawn.

a/n: A Twitter moot, the most excellent but 18+ LaoHuangsB[redacted], wanted Lao angst. I provided, and then made it the opening story. All future stories will be MUCH shorter, please let them be shorter I cannot handle this many words a day.

Next up: ha ha ha, no prompt, we die like Ma-non.