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This is not the first time that something bad has happened. Their life had never been too dangerous in the way that it was threatened. Emotional damage was the worst case that would happen, but with them together they could manage. They would live.
Then, the whole situation with Liu Min and Red Eyes had happened, leaving Lu Guang in the hospital on the brink of death. He had survived, but he had never fully recovered. He still had body pains in his abdomen every now and again, and sometimes he couldn't stomach the sight of a knife coated in red, memories flashing before his eyes as he bled out.
All in all though, he was just glad to be alive and relatively well. It had taken a while for them to get back into the groove of things, taking clients and diving. Even when they did eventually come back, practically out of hiding, they only ever took the most minimal options. They were more careful, looking closely. It's why this current predicament is so beyond him, because they had been extremely careful.
Turns out the most recent dive ended with contacting the police because in the background they had stumbled upon a questionable practice formed by an organization, all because Cheng Xiaoshi had accidentally made a small mistake in their dive. They had to say something to the police that they had witnessed something happening while lying about how they found out.
Inevitably he ended up here, hands tied behind his back with scratchy rope and a bag over his head. The rope was tied tight around his wrists, digging into his skin. It was just tight enough that it felt like his circulation was being cut off and causing his hands to feel all tingly, but light enough that they didn't go full numb, which meant there was still blood flow. They were sure to cause some serious burns and lingering pain.
The sack over his head was making it hard to breathe, but he wasn't lucky enough that it would tune out the voices. He could hear them arguing, but couldn't quite make out what exactly it was they were saying. He breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth; a trick to keep him calm in such a situation. It's difficult, but for now he shouldn't worry as much because so far, it isn't as bad as previous events. It didn't mean it was okay though.
He was on his knees now, leaning over because it was all he could do. His legs were bound together by the ankles, knees spread apart to keep himself stabilized in this position without his arms to hold him up. He wasn't tied to a chair or anything, but he didn't move. He was smart enough in that it was better if he stayed still and compliant. He wouldn't be able to escape like this even if he tried.
Footsteps getting closer alert him that something is about to happen. He tenses up, and it must be amusing to his captors by the laughs he hears immediately after his own action. Suddenly the sack is yanked off his head with more force than should be necessary, causing his head to move back and his hair to come out all messy as he nearly loses his balance.
He squints his eyes as the light floods them, pupils constricting as he begins blinking away the brightness in order to get used to it. When he can finally see well enough he can tell they're in some kind of warehouse. His eyes widen as he takes in the sight of a small watering trough filled with water just in front of him. Dread sits heavy in his gut as he shifts uncomfortably in place at the sight. He's not an idiot, so he can see the general direction this is going in.
He's forced to his feet by one of the group members, a burly man that is able to lift him easily to his feet. He's grabbed by the rope around his wrists, held right between them. It provides for a simple one handed grasp that allows him to be moved however the man wants to with just a simple push. It's a different man, taller, lankier, that stands in front of him and seems to be the lead.
The lanky man grabs him by the jaw, holding it tight. He gets all up in his face, nasty smoke ridden breath breathed in his face. The smell of fresh smoke nearly has him coughing, but he doesn't relent. He stares at him almost defiantly, despite the anxiety spiking.
"Now, you're gonna answer our questions, ya hear? How did you find out about our business?"
He attempts to shake his head, but the grip on his jaw is tight. It's hard to even speak when his head is being held so still alongside the bottom of his jaw. The grip relents, probably because the guy realized he couldn't speak that way.
"I'm not telling you."
It's the wrong answer, but he's not going to just tell how they did it. They wouldn't even believe him if he told them that it was seen because of his ability to look into photos and watch the events play out from just after it was taken. Fortunately enough these men only had him hostage, meaning they must think he was the only one playing a part in their discovery. Cheng Xiaoshi was safely out of the picture, and he certainly wouldn't say that Xiaoshi can go into the person at the time a photo was taken.
The man that had asked him the question scowls at the denial. He snaps his fingers and then suddenly the man behind him is pushing him forward towards the water just from shoving his arms. Another hand comes around to grab him by the hair harshly, before his head is being pushed under the water.
He thrashes around as much as is allowed in this precarious position. He can barely move despite the way his body convulses because his body is being held in one place. Water floods his mouth and down his throat as he's being drowned. His chest and stomach constrict, pain surrounding the scars that were still healing. He yanks his arms away from each other in a pathetic attempt to break the bindings.
He's yanked back up by his hair just a moment later. He sputters and coughs, hacking up what water he didn't choke down. His chest heaves as his hair sticks to his skin, dripping off the strands and down his face. He breathes heavily, getting used to being able to breathe once more. He gets no more time to recover. A hand slaps across his face, forcing it to the side.
"I said, how did you find out? Next time it's gonna be worse."
He stares deadset in his eyes and shakes his head. He spits at him, spitting up more water mixed with his saliva. Another snap and his head is down under the water again. His eyes squeeze shut as he suffocates again. More water floods his mouth as he garbles in the water. It's slightly longer than he had been held under the first time.
Again, he's yanked back up by the hair. He has barely any time to recover this time minus a few choking out the water. His neck is grabbed by the front by the man that stinks of smoke and nicotine. His throat is squeezed and his airway is blocked. Fingers dig into the skin of his neck, nails imprinting in the flesh. He barely registers the slight nod the man gives before, while his neck is held in a vice grip, his hair is yanked hard.
Some of his hair tears out from the force as his head is held mostly in place by his neck, fingers just slightly grabbing onto his jaw at the same time. He involuntarily chokes out a scream of pain, tears welling up at the corners of his eyes. Smoke wafts up in his nose as a cigarette is lit near him before the burning bud is pressed into the skin of his neck in different places.
He can't breathe and the combined pain at multiple points has his vision darkening at the edges. The grip on his neck eases and he can suddenly breathe again. His hair is let go, causing his head to lull forward. The only reason he is still upright is only because he is being held up, his legs weak and unable to properly hold himself up.
His breathing is rapid and his pulse is in a similar state. He closes his eyes tight, willing for the pain to go away. He pleads that everything will become numb soon despite the panic it brings him at the memory of going numb from blood loss.
"Answer me, asshat!"
A punch into his jaw at his continued denial has him sputtering and gasping, blood running down his nose. He shudders a breath, squeezing his eyes shut. A click and a shudder a minute later has him opening his eyes, facing a camera that has just gone off. It's probably a trophy of this moment, where his stubbornness to stay silent is 'to be broken.'
He watches as they set up a laptop on a small stand. He doesn't know what the purpose is, but he's determined to stay resolutely silent. He closes his eyes, feeling the lull of sleep trying to take hold at both the constant onslaught of suffocation and the pain inflicted on him.
A sound is made and his face is grabbed by the chin hard, nails digging into the skin there. He has to blearily open his eyes when he's told to, or rather, screamed at to. Any color drains from his face when he sees Cheng Xiaoshi's face on the laptop screen, a light blinking red signaling a live stream. He isn't sure how much he can see, but he can't bring himself to think about that.
The lanky man grins, all yellowed teeth and feral. He moves his hand from Lu Guang's chin to the back of his head, fisting the hair there. He tugs roughly on it and spits in his face, causing him to recoil.
"Now let's see if I'll get my answers when we have an audience. Wouldn't want to subject a friend to watching torture, would we? Now let me ask again, how did you find out?"
Lu Guang looks at Cheng Xiaoshi's face screaming silently, most likely a curse or two to get them to leave him alone. He can't tell because the volume is off, but no matter what he's saying, there's not a chance that he would be saying now. He would never want to put Xiaoshi through this type of thing, but it would be better than putting everything else, their lives included, in jeopardy.
"Fine."
He grimaces as the man leans in closer to his face. He can't pull his head back like he wants to, but that doesn't matter. He says nothing yet as his personal space is further invaded, before snorting blood in the man's face.
"Fuck you."
He isn't typically the type to swear, but it's to prove a point. He's not going to budge. He watches then as the man recoils in anger, wiping off the blood on his face, snapping his fingers towards the laptop. He only gets to hear a brief moment of the volume being turned on and his friend yelling before his head is being shoved under the water again.
Water mixed with blood floods his mouth again and he chokes on the metallic tasting water. He squirms and thrashes again, energy draining from the constant restriction of his airways. He can vaguely hear yelling and begging for it to stop, voice all too familiar, but it's severely muffled.
His head is pulled back up and he coughs and shudders. They finally seem to get the message that he's not going to speak. They give up too easily to be extremely experienced, but it's still been a painful experience. He freezes as something cold is pressed up against the side of his head. He doesn't have to see to know it's a gun being driven into the side of his head.
He closes his eyes because he can't bear to watch Cheng Xiaoshi. He desperately tries to tune out the sounds around him. The sound of a gun going off and darkness never comes as he hears something being busted down. He's dropped, unable to catch himself as his head collides hard into the concrete ground. The voices and yells go quiet, ears ringing with the impact. How he had even managed to stay awake this long, he wasn't sure, but now as his body slumped on the ground, his surroundings faded into darkness.
When he wakes up, he's once again in a familiar hospital room. The last time he had been here he had been on the brink of death. This time he doesn't find Cheng Xiaoshi sitting at his bedside when he turns his head, pulling a frown from him.
He lays his head back on the pillow the way it had started out when he woke up, closing his eyes. His chest hurts, but at least now he can breathe properly. Things seem to only be getting worse, and he wonders what they did to deserve this punishment. He's content though for now as long as Cheng Xiaoshi is fine, because that's his top priority.
Everything is painful, dulled by the medicine that's pumping through his system. He doesn't think he can keep much of a coherent thought, mind fuzzy. Footsteps approach but he doesn't move at all. He's extremely tired still, and he wants nothing more than to sleep. A warm hand slides into his cold one, wrapping careful fingers with his own. He curls his own fingers to hold the hand back. He's content with this, slipping back under with the thought of comfortable warmth on his mind.