rareslash | Fic: "The Ghost Mother" pt. 3 of 3 [2002, Chiu/Fung]

Author: Keiko Kirin
Title: The Ghost Mother
Fandom: 2002 (Hong Kong movie, 2001)
Pairing: Chiu [played by Nicholas Tse]/Fung [played by Stephen Fung]
Summary: An elderly lady ghost follows Fung just as he and Chiu are getting closer, and some secrets from Chiu's past are unexpectedly revealed. Set after the movie. This follows my other story, "The Hell Season," but can be read independently of it.
Word count: pt. 1: 5500, pt. 2: 3860, pt. 3: 4700
Rating: a PG-ish R? for non-explicit sex
Warnings: Long story! Contains spoilers for the movie.
URL for printer-friendly version: pteropus.com/keiko/misc/2002gm.html

"Auntie," he said before she could speak. He had been expecting her, and planning what he would do. He went to his coat and retrieved the scrap of cloth that had fallen from her wardrobe. He held it out so she could see it. She reached for it, her fingers slipping through the cloth and his palm as if they were air. An unpleasant tingling raced up his spine.

"That was the dress I wore. Oh! Oh, my son!" she wailed, but for the first time, she didn't seem to be addressing Fung.

"Who was your son, Lam Yin-hing?" he asked softly.

At the sound of her name, she looked at him closely and now he could see comprehension in her eyes. She was remembering. And they weren't, he could tell, good memories.

"I was just a girl when my parents died," she said. "I thought I was so smart. I came to the city. I had no idea what was going on. I didn't know what was happening in the world."

She glanced at the cloth again, then gave him a surprisingly youthful, mischievous look. "I was a looker, too, back then. You might not believe it now, little one, but I turned heads back then. And that's how I met..." She faltered and started to fade.

"Auntie, please," Fung called to her. "It's hard, I know. But you have to remember. You need to put this all to rest."

She took form again, but wouldn't look at him. "He was just a businessman, he told me. He was
rich enough, that I could see. And he treated me pretty well. Oh, I wasn't so stupid that I didn't know what he wanted, but I was alone in the city, trying to earn a few coins by sewing and sleeping with three other girls on a moldly mat. What girl wouldn't have been tempted by his money and car and warm hotel room?"

She looked at Fung now: a frank, direct stare. "I was willing, you know. It could be that he convinced me, and maybe that's rape, but I never had second thoughts, and he didn't hurt me. And after that, well..." She puffed in what might have been a laugh. "I was a silly young girl, and I thought I was in love."

Fung's gaze flicked to the doorway. Chiu had come in quietly and was standing perfectly still in the shadows, listening. His eyes met Fung's, and Fung understood: let her remember and tell her tale without interrupting.

Auntie Lam trembled and looked down, and in a weaker voice said, "And then they took Hong Kong, and I wasn't sure anymore if he was just a businessman. Even if he was, it was as bad as if I'd been sleeping with General Isogai himself. But what I could do? He still treated me well, gave me things to wear and things to eat, when other people had nothing.

"I knew the baby was on the way, but I didn't tell him, and of course, once my belly got round, he knew what was happening. He dropped me like that. I didn't exist."

Strength seemed to return to her, and she faced Fung again. She smiled sadly. "You don't want to hear about all of that. You don't know what it's like to carry a child and be so hungry that you're crawling in gutters for any grain of rice you can find. What I went through was nothing. Thousands of women did the same, endured worse, endured living nightmares. It wasn't the hardship, you see. It was my shame. It was who I slept with. It was knowing that my son, when he finally came and was in my arms, had the blood of the enemy in him.

"He was my son. I loved him the moment I saw him. But he was going to be hated everyday of his life if anyone found out about his father, all because of my shame. I moved us from place to place, scraping by. I thought he might die from starvation when I couldn't feed him anymore, but he was strong. So for three years and three months, we got by, until one day..." The ghost flickered again, as if warring with the memories themselves.

"One day, I guess I lost my mind. I was so hungry and wretched, and I convinced myself it would be better for Hok-keung... That someone else could take care of him better than I could. I was sure I would die soon. And I was so crazy and stupid, I had no idea that a few months later, the occupation would be over."

Fung stared at her silently. He remembered the desperation in her wailing, Are you my son?

"You abandoned your kid," said Chiu from the shadows, his voice calm in a way that alarmed Fung. Chiu stepped forward, and Fung expected to see the ghost gun his hand.

"Chiu..." he said, stepping between him and Auntie Lam.

"No, he's right, little one," the ghost said, floating past him and hovering near Chiu. She looked him over, unshaken by Chiu's disgusted glare. "I abandoned my boy and never knew if he lived or died," she said to Fung. "I looked for him, oh, for years, I looked for him. But there were so many displaced people, children, immigrants. And I started to think, as the years went by, maybe it was better for him. He would never know about his father."

Chiu abruptly stepped away from her, pacing into the kitchen. Fung had no doubt that the ghost could sense Chiu's fury as strongly as he could.

"Auntie," he said gently, but she was looking at Chiu, "tell me, why would you think I could be your son?"

She glanced at him, surprised. "You? Why, you're far too young. My mind wanders sometimes. Maybe I've always been crazy," she said seriously. She floated closer and looked him over. "But there is something about you... Something lost."

A chill flowed around Fung's neck and shoulders and he was almost grateful when Chiu spat out, "You're not crazy, old woman, you're selfish and cruel."

"Chiu, please--"

Auntie Lam floated to Chiu. "I guess you're right about that, too. But listen, little son, your mother wasn't like me. She didn't abandon you. She died and had to leave."

Chiu paled and his eyes widened in shock. He stood perfectly still and his lips parted as if trying to speak.

"Auntie," Fung said, rushing to Chiu, trying to figure out what spell she'd put on him.

"It's time for me to leave, too," she said, drifting away from them. "I'll never find him in this life, but maybe in the next one."

A faint yellow glow grew around her and consumed her, and the air stilled in her wake.

Fung grabbed Chiu's shoulders. "Chiu! She's gone. What's she done to you?"

Chiu blinked at him, color gradually returning to his cheeks. The look he gave Fung was tragic and boyish. "How did she know?" he asked, and the pain in his voice brought tears to Fung's eyes.

"I don't know," he whispered hoarsely, and he wrapped Chiu in his arms and held him until Chiu's arms circled around his waist. He stroked Chiu's hair. "She's gone now. It's okay."

Chiu tightened his embrace for a moment and said against Fung's shoulder, "I know." He let go and stepped back, giving Fung a half-smile. "I'm okay." He glanced around the kitchen. "Looks like you were in the middle of making something. Shall I slice the vegetables?" He took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves.

Fung watched him for a moment, but couldn't think of anything to say. Chiu stopped and gave him a long look. "Really. I'm okay. This, right now, this is what's important."

Fung breathed out in relief. He smiled. "Yeah."

After dinner, just when the lingering heaviness of Auntie Lam's presence was beginning to lift, they were called out, but it turned out to be a false alarm. Chiu muttered about the inconvenience, but he took the long way home, and the driving seemed to soothe him. When they returned to the flat, Fung was glad that it was back to normal. Auntie Lam was gone, there were dirty dishes in the sink, and Chiu's beat-up old sandals were in the middle of the floor.

After they'd gone to bed and Chiu fell asleep, Fung remembered the piece of cloth. He crept out of bed and took it onto the roof and burned it. Wherever it went now, it wasn't needed here any longer.

-----

When Fung woke up the next morning, Chiu was propped on his elbow, watching him. Chiu smiled sleepily and ruffled Fung's hair. Fung smiled back, stretched and reached over to flick the hair out of Chiu's eyes.

"You know, my hair just does that," Chiu said. "I don't do anything to make it fall that way, despite what you and Danielle think."

Fung winced. "You know about that?"

"You two aren't half as sneaky as you think you are." Chiu smiled smugly.

"We only tease you because we think you're cute."

"Oh, stop that," Chiu groaned.

"Thinking you're cute?" Fung stretched again, shaking his head. "No, sorry, I can't."

"Well, you can keep it to yourself," Chiu said, getting out of bed. He pulled the covers off Fung. "No lounging today. There's a precinct head coming to observe our fighting practice, remember?"

Fung had, in fact, forgotten about it entirely. Chiu tsked and shuffled off to make coffee.

Fighting practice with the precinct head watching was nerve-racking. Fung was confident in his fighting skills, but performing for an audience was different from battling angry ghosts. Chiu was unconcerned, of course, and put on an impressive display with a hint of showing off. Afterwards, Chiu suggested they look at motorcycles, but there was something about the grey day and heavy rain that nagged at Fung's memory until he remembered unfinished business.

"No, I have to go to Paper Chan's," he sighed, avoiding Chiu's gaze.

To his surprise, Chiu offered to go with him, but his manner was closed and he hung back in the doorway while Fung ducked into the shop and called for Chan. Chan emerged from the back, putting on his jacket.

"Oh, it's you two," he said, peering past Fung's shoulder. "What do you want this time?"

Fung cast a quick glance back at Chiu, then replied in a low voice, "I need to burn some money. $888."

Chan raised his eyebrows. "So that morgue creeper Liu was right about your old lady ghost?" He chuckled darkly. "Well, well. This could be the first honest money he ever earned," he said, handing Fung a money envelope.

The promised payment burned, Fung was eager to leave. He'd never minded Paper Chan much, but the more he thought about Chiu's childhood, the more hostility he felt towards Chan. But unexpectedly, while Fung waited outside in the rain, Chiu went into the shop and spoke quietly with Chan. They didn't seem to be arguing, and at one point, Chan even rested his hand on Chiu's arm and looked sad. When Chiu came out, Fung's curiosity was so overwhelming, he was about to ask, even though it would be prying, when their cellphones rang in unison.

"There's trouble at the old Happy Show Cinema," the dispatcher informed them. "Get there quick!"

The rain had weakened to a light mist by the time they reached the Happy Show site. Nothing was left of the old cinema, new foundations had been laid for the school building, and the skeleton of the structure was beginning to take shape. A construction worker came running from the site and in his panic ran into Fung. Fung steadied him, and the man babbled, "It's a haunted site, all right. They've come back!" He hurried away.

Chiu shared a worried look with Fung, and they entered the site. A group of workers cowered along the edge. A steel beam flew through the air and landed on the ground in front of them, splashing mud. Chiu pointed to the sky. "Look."

Hovering over the structure was another beam, and as they watched, it fell and crashed into bundle of pipes, sending them rolling across the ground.

"Their anger must be stronger than we thought, for them to do this," Fung said, dismayed. "I really thought we'd reasoned with them.

"Yeah, so did I," Chiu said, reaching for a vial of unveiling drops.

They ran to the structure and split up, Fung taking one end and Chiu the other. Fung jumped to grab the lowest horizontal beam and swung himself up. He noted that Chiu had done the same and was already on the next level. Fung climbed up a vertical beam and reached the next level in time to see a welder's iron fly toward Chiu. Chiu tossed the unveiling drops at it as he grabbed the nearest vertical beam and swung out of its path.

There were two of the construction worker ghosts attacking. They flinched from the unveiling drops, and when Chiu swung forth, pulling on his ghost gloves, they ran away. Chiu ran after them, but before Fung could reach him to help, his arms were grabbed from behind in a powerful invisible grip.

He quickly fumbled for the unveiling drops and threw the vial backwards blindly. The grip slackened and he twisted free, turning and aiming a high kick at his attacker. The ghost fell from the beam and almost reached the ground before he took flight through the maze of beams below. Fung put on his gloves and watched the ghost fly from one side to the other, and reflected that there had been some very good reasons for Special Unit 2002 to be a man-ghost partnership. Neither of them could fly when they weren't ghosts, or possessed by one.

Fung left the ghost below and gingerly ran after Chiu and his ghosts, reaching them in time to see Chiu get a chokehold on one. But his friend was coming for Chiu, and Fung lunged at the second ghost, nearly falling from the beam as he grabbed the ghost's arms and pulled him back.

Instead of turning the attack on Fung, the ghost's strength ebbed and he didn't struggle while Fung got a better hold. Chiu's ghost had similarly been sapped of his fight.

Chiu looked the ghosts over in disgust. "We gave you guys a break, and this is what happens? You want blood bullets now?"

"No," wailed another ghost, and Fung saw the one he'd let go hovering in the air next to them.

"What's this all about?" he asked. "Why are you attacking the workers here?"

"We're not going after the workers," said the ghost Chiu was holding. "It's this crap they're using. It's all substandard trash. I wouldn't use it to build a garden shed, much less a school."

"That's right," the hovering ghost said, nodding.

Fung's ghost captive added, "You want kids to be in here when the walls or floors could come crashing down?"

"In our day," the first ghost said, "we wouldn't have been caught dead using materials like this."

"Not to mention some of the slackers they have working here," Fung's captive snorted. "It's just a way to get a few dollars in their pocket. No concern for what they're building or who's gonna be inside these walls."

"Okay, okay," Chiu cut in. "We get the picture. But you could've hurt someone with those steel beams."

"And you threw that iron at Chiu," Fung said, yanking on his captive's arms. "We're trying to help you."

"We're sorry," the ghost mumbled. "It's just that we got so angry when we saw what they were doing."

The hovering ghost shook his head. "The others told us we shouldn't try to take matters into our own hands. That's why they're not here. They didn't want any part of this."

Chiu gave him a sharp look. "Then they're smarter than you. What are we supposed to do with you now, huh?"

The ghost hung his head.

"Listen," Fung said, meeting Chiu's gaze. "We'll find out about the building materials, call for a safety inspection." Chiu nodded his approval. "But Chiu's right. I don't see how we can let you guys stay here. You've done this damage, frightened away a lot of good workers, made a real mess."

The first ghost looked at his peers. "We understand. What do you say, brothers? Time to move on? We can trust these two to check things out."

"And the others will keep watch until the school is finished," the hovering ghost added.

"Okay," agreed the third ghost.

Fung released his hold, and Chiu let go of the first ghost. They watched as the three workers slowly faded into the misty rain, their bodies briefly outlined in a soft golden light before they finally disappeared.

Chiu took off his gloves. "We'll let them stay, you said. They won't harm anyone, you said." He shook his head.

"Yeah, but if they're right about this building, we should be thankful."

He grabbed onto a vertical beam and started to climb down. He was eye-level with the horizontal beam when he noticed the slick streak of grease and rainwater and saw how Chiu's step came down at exactly the wrong angle. He saw it all as if it were slow motion: Chiu losing his footing and reaching out for something to hold, but there was no overhead beam, and then Chiu's coat flew up as his back hit the open air. Below them on the ground was a stack of steel beams, and as surely as if he had seen it in his nightmares, Fung pictured Chiu hitting that stack.

Without thought, without hesitation, he wrapped his leg around the vertical beam to steady himself and flung out to reach for Chiu. He caught an arm and put all of his strength into holding on, wincing as Chiu's weight swung back into him and pushed him into the beam.

He had hold of Chiu: that was the important thing, the only thing that mattered. And his mind, racing with relief and fear and the physical pain of trying to hold on and not fall, wondered briefly why he and Chiu always ended up in danger on top of buildings.

He couldn't hold on much longer. He had Chiu's arm locked in his, but the precarious toehold he had on the beam was wavering.

"I'm going to swing for it," Chiu said breathlessly, but before Fung could brace himself, Chiu had already propelled himself toward the beam, almost far enough to catch it with his foot.

Fung's arm felt wrenched from its socket, and his toehold slid a few centimeters down to the next rivet, but he didn't fall. Sweat and rain clouded his vision. "One more time," he called. "You almost had it."

Chiu swung again, and his coat whipped at Fung. As Chiu's foot caught around the beam, the shift in his weight unbalanced Fung. His toehold slid further, but he was not going to let go of Chiu, so they slid together, down to the next horizontal beam, where they landed in an unsteady, awkward heap.

Chiu sat up, rubbing his arm. Fung stayed where he was, flat on his back on the beam with his legs dangling in the air.

"You could've fallen, doing that," Chiu said. "We both could've."

"I know," Fung said, looking up at the beams and rainy sky.

"But," Chiu continued, taking his hand and helping him up, "we didn't."

He smiled, and Fung smiled back, and had they not been sitting on a narrow steel beam in front of a construction crew watching them from below, Fung was quite certain they would have kissed.

-----

It took the rest of the day to file their reports, convince the precinct head that an investigation into the construction site was warranted, and confirm that the investigation was really going to happen. By the time they left police headquarters, it was evening, pouring rain, but as tired as Fung was, he was happy.

"What's with you?" Chiu asked him suspiciously.

Fung grinned. "I'm not haunted any longer. You didn't fall off that beam and break your back. So far, not a bad day."

Chiu gave him a long-suffering look and started to say something, but instead smiled and said, "Yeah, true."

There wasn't much in the flat for dinner, so they walked down to the Thai noodle shop and walked back in the rain, Chiu carrying a little box of leftover noodles. A few hundred meters from their building, Chiu's steps slowed and he said, "I asked Paper Chan about what she said about my mother. How she could know about my mother. That's what I talked to him about."

Fung looked at him and asked gently, "What did he say?"

Chiu shrugged a little. "He didn't know. Maybe she guessed."

Somehow, this explanation was creepier than that she'd had a ghostly insight. Fung's skin crawled.

Chiu opened the box and pulled out a noodle and ate it.

"Hey, breaking into the leftovers already?"

Chiu pulled out another noodle and dangled it in front of Fung. Rain and peanut sauce dripped from it. Grinning, Chiu pulled it back and ate it. Fung made a play for the box and chased him to the flat, Chiu guarding the box tucked under his arm.

Inside the flat, Chiu hid the box behind his back and took a defensive stance. Fung pretended to give up the chase and took off his coat, then made a grab for it, but Chiu effortlessly scooted away.

"Okay, wait, wait," Chiu said, holding out the box. He pulled out a noodle and held it up. "Open your mouth."

Fung gave him a skeptical look. Chiu raised an eyebrow and wiggled the noodle a little. Fung opened his mouth.

"Close your eyes."

"Why?"

Chiu stepped closer, waving the noodle temptingly. Fung opened his mouth and closed his eyes, and had time to think how silly he must look -- Chiu must be laughing -- damn, he might be taking a picture -- before he felt the noodle touch his tongue. He briefly tasted spice and peanut before it was whisked away, then Chiu's lips were on his in a slow, deep, delicious kiss.

Fung slid his arms around Chiu's waist and drew him closer, braced for the inevitable interruption -- ghosts, cell phones ringing, or Chiu pulling away -- but no interruption came. Chiu rested his arms on Fung's shoulders and kept kissing him: long, incredible kisses. He'd always thought the English expression about 'going weak at the knees' was just words, but his trembling restless eagerness threatened to unbalance him. If he'd thought Chiu would tolerate it -- if he'd thought Chiu wouldn't knock the life out of him -- he would've picked him up and carried him to bed. For whatever came next -- he didn't know, didn't care what came next, only that it would be he and Chiu together.

Chiu stepped back, smiling, and lifted his hand -- still holding the noodle.

"No way," Fung laughed, and, grinning, Chiu tossed it into the kitchen sink. Then he locked his arms around Fung and kissed him again.

Chiu pressed against him and touched his lips to Fung's neck. Fung held him close, feeling like he was in a dizzying daydream. Chiu's skin was warm, damp from the rain, and the spicy smells from the restaurant lingered on his clothes. He knew very well how strong Chiu was, but he had never felt that strength inviting him. The thrill of it sent a searing shock to his pulse.

He knew he was probably courting disaster, but his baffled curiosity was warring with his very real, intense desire. Keeping Chiu in his arms, he said against his ear, "I'm not trying to stop anything, but I want to know: what changed?"

Chiu pulled back just enough to give him a long, warm gaze. "Nothing's changed," he said, almost smiling.

Fung swallowed hard, and thought maybe he wasn't understanding because his brain was overloaded with sensations. "But..."

Chiu ran one fingertip from his forehead, along his cheekbone and down to his jaw. "What do you think would've happened that time before, if the ghost hadn't interrupted us?"

"Oh. Uh..." Fung blinked at him. "Really?"

Chiu laughed. "Goof."

Fung grinned and kissed him, and it was so easy, so simple. Even though he feared they were on borrowed time -- could the ghosts leave them alone for one night? -- he didn't want to rush, despite his restlessness. And Chiu seemed so calm, so confident, Fung wondered at it, until they were on the bed and Chiu took his shirt off, and Fung could see the pulse in his neck and the rapid rise and fall of his chest. When Fung touched him, his shoulder twitched, so Fung kissed it. Chiu breathed out slowly and reached for him, and after that, Fung kissed and touched wherever Chiu seemed to like it, whatever Chiu wanted... though it was becoming hard to concentrate because Chiu was kissing him and touching him and holding him, and it felt incredible. Before he knew it, they were naked and tangled together in the sheets.

Too tangled, actually, but whenever Fung fumbled to pull the sheets away, Chiu would move some new way and distract him, entice his touches, and tempt his kisses, and the sheets were momentarily forgotten until they were in the way again. Finally Chiu had him on his back, and Fung bent his leg to kick the sheets away, but just then Chiu fell and pushed against him, clutching him, shuddering. Fung lost all awareness of anything but that moment: Chiu's strength and sharp, brief release, and the urgent, immediate answer it called from Fung.

Languid in a drunken spell afterward, Fung thought several times of moving. Chiu was half-on, half-off of him, and it couldn't be that comfortable, though Chiu wasn't moving, either. The sheets were hopeless. Probably would be twisted around them for eternity, at this rate. Fung, right then, didn't mind it at all. Chiu said sleepily into the mattress, "If the phone rings right now, throw it across the room, okay?"

"Mm," Fung agreed, closing his eyes, not at all sure he'd have the energy to lift the phone if it came to that.

-----

For a terrible moment as he was pulled from sleep, Fung thought it had been a dream, and he woke up bitterly and irrationally angry. But there was Chiu in early daylight: naked and lazy and awake. Not moving away when Fung slid closer. Drawing Fung into his arms, inviting him to be lazy with him.

This was everything Fung wanted, and Fung was aware of a shift in the world, but what it meant was unclear. Happy and sleepy, he yawned and stretched out on the bed, resting his head on Chiu's stomach. Chiu played with his hair, pushing it down over his forehead, then stroking it back.

"Cold noodles for breakfast," Chiu said, voice quiet and raw. Neither of them moved.

A few minutes later Fung said, "After that let's look at motorcycles."

"Sure."

They didn't move.

Fung closed his eyes and drifted for a while, peaceful and content. Chiu's fingers combed through his hair, and Fung caught his hand. He looked at the mark on Chiu's palm, the so-called "death star," and kissed it softly. Cursed or not, in a strange way, it had brought them together.

"What do you think she meant, that ghost, when she said there was something lost about me?" he asked, caressing the mark with his thumb.

When Chiu didn't answer, Fung looked at him. Chiu softly touched his chin.

"Do you feel lost?" he asked, gazing into Fung's eyes.

Fung smiled. "No." He shifted and slid into Chiu's arms.

"Then forget about her. She was crazy," Chiu said. He ran one fingertip along the curves of Fung's upper lip, stroking at the line of fine hairs, and gave Fung an intimate, warm smile that sent a rush of heat through Fung's skin.

He couldn't worry about the future, not when the present was like this, with Chiu holding him, wanting him, loving him.

He kissed Chiu's fingers and said, "You're right."

He couldn't worry about the future when the present was Chiu.

(the end)