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[ The night following his argument with Wei Wuxian, if it can be called that, finds Lan Wangji troubled, restless, a weight on his chest pressing him down as he struggles to fall asleep. Time passes slowly as he lays on his cot, listening to the breathing of the rest of the new arrivals around him, the quiet chatter of a pair of people in the corner. This is ridiculous: time is a consistent measure that does not pass either slowly or quickly, and to think it passes slowly is just a reflection on the disorganized state of his mind.

One of the Lan sect rules dictates when disciples should sleep and rise, and Lan Wangji has followed that faithfully for most of his life. But there have been days when he's not gone to bed at nine. Days when he woke up well before five. Days he can't sleep at all. War and the nature of cultivation made sure of that. But since healing from his injuries, once he was able to sit up again and fever-exhaustion didn't keep him in bed, he had fallen back into the routine of sleeping at nine and waking at five and kept that up since his arrival in Llave. Sleeplessness is even rarer than not sleeping at the dictated time. Meditation and a firm resolve have kept insomnia at bay for the most part, even if worries troubled his mind.

It's not that he's never experienced it, and the cause of his insomnia is one that has plagued him before: Wei Wuxian. And like the rest of the times he's had trouble sleeping because of Wei Wuxian, he doesn't know how to solve the problem. Two options war in his chest, and neither of them is good. Tell Wei Wuxian about the Wen remnants or keep silent and let the chasm between them continue to grow when all he wants is to help?

After two hours of trying to sleep, he rises from his cot and seeks out one of the empty rooms, sinking into the lotus position to meditate again. It's better than attempting to sleep and not finding it, even if it's more of a struggle than usual, even if it's difficult to find that space inside his head. Focusing on the warmth of his golden core helps, the familiar energy flowing through his meridians. Not enough, not when his real problem lies not in his head or body but in solving the tension in another, but by the time he rises out of the lotus position with the same grace he does everything else, he knows what to do.

He finds a piece of paper and a pen, missing the familiar weight of a brush and the ritual of grinding an inkstone and letting his thoughts settle before he starts writing. But this has to do, for now.

He writes out, a-Yuan is safe and well, in good hands, using the character for Yuan he'd picked when he'd handed over the child to his brother. He knows his words are true: Yuan is safe with his brother, who will protect him with the same care he protected Lan Wangji.

That done, he returns to the main room, searching for Wei Wuxian's cot, and approaches on silent feet. Hoping Wei Wuxian is asleep, he reaches the side of his cot, bending to slide the note under his pillow. ]

Edited (what is extra space) 2020-12-02 06:57 (UTC)

[Wei Wuxian is not asleep. He slept for two hours the night before so he's rightfully exhausted, but he's not asleep. It means that when he hears the sounds of someone entering the room he's sleeping in, he focuses on it, unconcerned though still aware of the motion. Here in Llave, there don't appear to be many threats and the shelter patrols to keep an eye on things as well, but after surviving a war and living as the cultivation world's number one enemy, he's doesn't shake off awareness of others near his space lightly.

It would be different, he thinks, if he had his core and could sense malicious intent the way he had before. If he could detect the breath of air shifting that meant an arrow or blade whistling towards him. He can't though, and so. Being aware has kept him alive.

So it isn't concern that has him concentrating on the barely there sound and movement. At least not until the steps approach, not until he can feel the heat of someone kneeling next to him, until the soft rustle of fabric indicates an arm reaching near him.

His eyes shoot open and he catches Lan Wangji's wrist in one hand, the other already halfway inside his robes to reach for Chenqing. His lips are formed into an "O" to whistle, anticipating not reaching the flute in time. It takes him longer than it should to process Lan Wangji kneeling there and when he does, he drops his wrist as if burned, pulling his empty hand from his robe and looking away.

He opens his mouth and then closes it, far too exhausted to trust himself to speak and not somehow make things worse between them. Still too upset not to press for answers even now, even knowing what will come of it. So he stays quiet and keeps his eyes averted. Eventually after a weighted silence, he sighs.]

...it's early even for you, isn't it? [His eyes flicker to the barred windows that offer only darkness. It must be before five, he hasn't been awake that long yet, has he?]

[ It was too much to hope that Wei Wuxian would have been asleep, and Lan Wangji rarely hopes for foolishness. So it doesn't startle him when his wrist is grabbed. What does startle him is the haste with which Wei Wuxian dropped his wrist, as though burned.

He should be grateful; he hates people touching him. But, illogically, it stings; Wei Wuxian has rarely avoided touching him before. He averts his eyes, the note still in his hand. ]

It is just before four in the morning. [ Definitely early for him. ]

[When that is all Lan Wangji offers him, he can't help the wave of bitterness that begins to flood him. After all that was said between them before, he isn't sure what he's expecting, but it isn't more silence.

Then he takes a moment to silence his mind, a moment to just be. To remember his own exhaustion and how it's lived in him these last couple days. To remember that he isn't himself and this anger, it's not for Lan Wangji. Not really.

It helps.

Lan Wangji wouldn't be here if he didn't have good reason. He also wouldn't be here if he only intended to argue more about telling him anything. His presence here is Lan Wangji reaching out. A peace offering. He's trying. Wei Wuxian knows that, because for all that he might have aimed that cruel jab at him before, he does know Lan Wangji and Lan Wangji knows him. The least he can do is attempt the same.

He brings his gaze back to his friend and catches sight of the note.]

...is that for me?

[ He still avoids looking at Wei Wuxian, which is easy, considering the fact that he spent so long not looking at him and the lights are dim.

He wants to look, however. Wants to look at him and keep looking, but that's an indulgence Lan Wangji can't afford. Doesn't deserve.

He nods, recognizing it is likely hard to see in the dark, so he adds, ] Yes.

[ A moment of hesitation, and he folds the note in two. To leave the note and flee, to tell him and throw away the note? Too many choices and he doesn't know the right one.

He inhales, then lifts his eyes to look at Wei Wuxian. ] A-Yuan is safe and well, in good hands. [ It's better than letting him just read the note, even if the words are difficult to say. He sets the note down on the edge of the bed. ] To read when you wake up from dreams about him.

[ There, duty done. He shifts to rise from his kneeling position, so he can let Wei Wuxian get back to sleep. ]

[Wei Wuxian doesn't stop him because he is hardly aware enough to do so. He sits frozen, the words echoing loudly in his cavernous body. A-Yuan is safe. He's safe and well, he's in good hands. A-Yuan is going to get to live, he's going to grow into a teenager and an adult, maybe a cultivator, maybe not. It doesn't matter, he will live. He'll get to move past the trauma of his childhood and keep smiling. He's safe, he's safe, a-Yuan is safe.

It's everything.

It wasn't for nothing. It wasn't a wasted effort. He didn't fail them all so completely.

There is an ugly sound in the quiet of the room, and it takes him a moment to realize it had come from him. Wei Wuxian lifts one hand to cover his mouth and keep more sounds inside, eyes blurring over and over as tears that he can not stop fill his eyes without ceasing. He hasn't cried like this since—since he woke, after Jin Zixuan—but this is better. He has never felt relief like this.

He shouldn't cry like this in front of Lan Wangji or at all, he knows that. It's shameful, embarrassing. Weak. But he could no sooner stop himself than he could turn back time and fix his mistakes, and so he cries on.]

[ Steps away from the cot, the sound that escapes Wei Wuxian makes Lan Wangji freeze. One of the advantages, and one of the pitfalls, is that he can hear better than the average person, so even a choked back sound is vaguely audible to him.

He turns to the cot, sitting on the edge of Wei Wuxian's bed, careful to keep a distance between them, but there nonetheless. Tears are odd, complex things to Lan Wangji, even the most straightforward of tears. He has no idea what to do, unfamiliar with how to comfort people. He doesn't want people looking at him when he's so emotional, but Wei Wuxian has always been different about expressing emotions. Not that he remembers seeing Wei Wuxian deal with someone crying, and the times he has seen Wei Wuxian so upset have been fraught with tension, or in places where comfort was difficult.

Not for the first time, he wonders what Wei Wuxian would do in this position. It's not a moment to be silly— not that Lan Wangji is capable of silly— or try to change the subject. But it's a moment that needs something. So Lan Wangji reaches out, touches his shoulder, and hums a familiar tune, softly enough that it couldn't be heard outside the room, but audible to Wei Wuxian. ]

[The touch makes him sob again, and he reaches back with both hands, catching Lan Wangji's arm and holding it there with trembling hands. Unable to conceal his face with both hands occupied holding onto Lan Wangji, he turns his eyes into Lan Wangji's wrist to keep them hidden.

The song hits him then and he goes still, listening to the hauntingly familiar tune. It's a song he's heard before. Sometimes when he wakes from dreams he doesn't remember, he hears it in his head, soft and mournful. It's a beautiful song, unforgettable, and there's a quality to it that hurts, something heart breaking.

He's never known where he'd first heard it. Only that when the world was darkest, when he was alone in the Burial Mounds fighting for his life, it came to him in the quiet like an old friend.

It's feels more like understanding than surprise when he realizes it's Lan Wangji's. (That makes sense, he thinks, of course it is.) His heart aches and he slips off of the cot, going to his knees and hugging Lan Wangji's arm to him in earnest. It's childish and clingy. Inappropriate in so many ways, even if he knows it's nothing to blink at by this world's standards. It's just that...it's just, he needs to hold onto something. He needs to hold onto Lan Wangji.]

[ It's not completely unexpected but the shift from grasping his hand to suddenly clinging is surprising. Unnerving. If he didn't know what to do with a Wei Wuxian who was in tears, he definitely doesn't know what to do with a Wei Wuxian clinging to him, still crying.

With his one arm trapped, he continues to kneel there, his humming abruptly stopping for a minute, then resuming. He doesn't like people touching him, but then Wei Wuxian isn't people. Never has been.

He reaches up to press his hand against Wei Wuxian's back, careful and as gentle as he would hold one of the rabbits left in the meadow. ]

[When Lan Wangji doesn't pull away or stiffen, he lets out a quiet shuddered breath, trying to get his bearings back and failing. (A-Yuan is alive.) Tears continue to stream from his eyes and he only pulls away when he realizes he is absolutely soaking Lan Wangji's sleeve, lifting one arm to use his own sleeve for the job instead. When he's stable enough to speak, he tightens his grip on Lan Wangji's arm in a silent plea to stay, still holding it close to his chest.]

Thank you. Lan Zhan, thank you. [His voice breaks halfway through and he lifts his sleeve again to hide, still refusing to pull away any further. Lan Wangji is here, a-Yuan is safe. It's all he needs right now. His relief is a tangible thing and exhaustion hits him like a physical blow making him sag to the side, nearly falling over and tightening his hold again to keep from ending up on the floor.

His eyes are closed and Lan Wangji is warm. The hand on his back is soothing. Without thinking or caring, he scoots forward, trading out Lan Wangji's arm for his torso instead.]

[ The effusive thanks are what Lan Wangji wanted to avoid. He knows— thinks; foolishly hopes— that the thanks are only for telling him, and nothing more. That he doesn't suspect a-Yuan is tucked up safely in Cloud Recesses. It's not a debt he wants Wei Wuxian to assume, or think it was done out of obligation.

But even those thanks are too much. It is the bare minimum Lan Wangji can do, offer some comfort in this world that makes no sense, and comes rather late. But he lets Wei Wuxian cling to him, and only stiffens once Wei Wuxian wraps arms around his torso. Hugs, other than the ones a-Yuan has given him, are just as foreign to him as tears and push into boundaries Lan Wangji has long cultivated, even longer than he's been cultivating a golden core. He does stop humming now, and he kneels there, stiff and awkward, one hand on Wei Wuxian's back, the other hanging by his side. What does he do with his other hand? His arm? How does he return a hug?

Maybe he should practice this. There is a child waiting for him, after all, and even now, Lan Wangji does not want him to grow up unaware of affection. He doesn't know when he'll get to see a-Yuan again, but that is a thought he resolutely pushes out of his head. ] Wei Ying. Do not thank me.

[At Lan Wangji's stiffening, Wei Wuxian pulls back, releasing him and pulling one arm tightly around his own middle while the other covers his face. He'd gotten carried away and he doesn't want to make Lan Wangji uncomfortable, especially after the things he'd said to him last time. He shouldn't assume so much. He shakes his head and takes several deep breaths, steadying himself and leaning back into his cot.]

I needed to hear it, Lan Zhan. I needed it so badly. [He wipes at his nose and eyes one final time before lowering his arm to hug himself with both.]

If he lives, it wasn't all for nothing. [He can't understand what that means. To know all of the sacrifice, the loss and lonely nights. Not being able to see his own sister's wedding, defecting from the Jiang sect. If one little boy lived because of it, it was worth it.

But he'd thought. Well.]

Sorry. You can go. You should go. I didn't mean to—[He catches himself and sighs quietly.] Just. Sorry.

[ When Wei Wuxian pulls back, Lan Wangji lets his hand drop back to his side, shifting his attention away, although he watches Wei Wuxian from beneath his lashes. ] It is fine.

[ He goes to reach into his sleeves for a handkerchief to pass to Wei Wuxian, only to come up empty. He'd given one to Wei Wuxian before and never bothered to replace it. He settles his hands back in his lap, lifting his eyes to gaze over Wei Wuxian's shoulder. ] Wei Ying. Thank you.

[Wei Wuxian stifles something that sounds like a hysterical laugh before it can fully form and he shakes his head, eyes on the floor.]

Don't. Don't thank me. I've done nothing worth thanks.

Lan Zhan, what I said. I didn't mean it. I...[The words are shameful and so he forces himself to speak them.] I meant to hurt you.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry for always being so cruel.

[ Wei Wuxian doesn't know what Lan Wangji is thanking for, and that's fine; Lan Wangji isn't sure he could articulate his feelings on it. ] Wei Ying. There is no need for sorry.

[ He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that those words had been designed to hurt, Wei Wuxian lashing out, angry with the world. It's better than cold indifference, at least. And knowing he didn't mean it eases something in his chest.

No one will ever know him as well as Wei Wuxian, so even if he does not know Wei Wuxian in return, that will be there. ]

Are you alright? [ He'd said so much in their argument yesterday, and beyond the immediate need to escape so he didn't say something damaging or fall into an argument he was ill-prepared to have, Lan Wangji had been concerned. None of this has been easy. ]

[He opens his mouth to say yes, he's fine, to tell him that everything is better now, that he doesn't have to worry about seeing him like this again, to tell him anything but the truth.]

I don't remember what alright is.

[It's the exhaustion and the relief. The honesty already pouring from his tongue and the incoherency of sleep deprivation. The words spill forth without thought or plan. He regrets it the moment it's out and he flinches, shaking his head, dragging a bleary smile to his lips.]

Ah...Lan zhan, you know me. I always bounce back.

[ 'No,' he wants to say. 'You don't always bounce back. You didn't.'

But that's too much, and too open, and he is not going to tell his zhiji about his own death, about how it felt to watch him fall, to hear him plead for Lan Wangji to let go. He turns his gaze to study Wei Wuxian's face in the dim light from the hall, only able to mostly see him because of his improved vision. ]

Lying is forbidden, Wei Ying.

[His expression shatters for a moment, a crack in the mask he's desperately trying to construct again. For a horrifying second he wants to lean forward again into Lan Wangji's arms and scream.

He leans back instead, looking away lest he do something foolish.]

When have your Lan rules ever stopped me? [There's amusement in his voice, but it's thin and brittle. The pasted on smile of a question.]

Lan Zhan, I am what am I needed to be. So, I will be alright. A-Yuan is safe. What else should I need? [Wen Qing and Wen Ning dead, the rest of the Wen remnant likely suffered the same fate. Jiang Cheng and Shijie likely won't speak to him again before his death. He'll never see Shijie again, probably. Shijie's life ruined at his own hands. But a-Yuan is safe. He's safe.

Whatever happens to him now, he can die at peace. The rest is out of his hands.]

[ Lan Wangji doesn't stare at people unless they happen to be crossing lines he deems unacceptable. Or they are Wei Wuxian. So he keeps staring.

Tone and demeanor and obfuscated words have always been somewhat foreign to Lan Wangji, never diplomatic enough, never interested in playing the polite games his brother handles with ease. He doesn't even grasp lies very well. But he knows Wei Wuxian. ] You need to live.

[ So Lan Wangji can stop feeling the hollow in his chest, stop having to ask himself what Wei Wuxian would do in various situations, so he can see his soulmate again, in a world far removed from here. ] As a person. As Wei Ying.

[ As more than a tool, more than just a nobody. Wei Wuxian's always been important. ]

[He blinks and the smile vanishes, the words sinking into him like a slow blade. There are a lot of things he can say to it. For a second he considers summoning the smile back and answering only 'isn't it a little too late for that?' His fate is sealed. It's over. The Yiling Patriarch has finally fallen.

Or he could ask what Lan Wangji means when they both already know that he's destined to die. What does it mean to live when death is so close? What does it mean to live here in Llave when every minute is borrowed time? Time he doesn't deserve. Should he live here? Did he have the right to move forward knowing the mess he'd left in the past? Why should he have this and not Jin Zixuan? Not Wen Qing? Granny Wen?

Both questions haunt him. Both carry weight.

But there is a greater question still. One that matters more than both. One that he can't answer.]

Why?

[He's a curse. A curse on everyone he loves. Everyone who has ever loved him is dead or betrayed. He has nothing to offer the world but pain. Why should he live?

(It isn't that he wants to die or that he would ever take matters into his own hands, is the thing. He doesn't think he does, most days. It's just. It's just that closing his eyes and letting it all fade away seems like it might be one of the better choices he's ever made in his life.)]

Edited 2020-12-04 07:51 (UTC)

[ Why is a question Lan Wangji has always struggled with. Why. People rarely ask him why or question his motives at all, and he appreciates that. If people do, he generally walks away. But he can't do that right now with Wei Wuxian, not when he's walked away so many times. Not when something stretches between them, fragile and important.

He thinks of the three hundred lashes from the bastinados and the pain from that. Kneeling in the cave, studying the rules, facing them in a different context. It's only been the past few months that he's been well enough to study them, and it's still a struggle to look at those rules and find acceptance in what occurred. Why lines every rule he reads, now. Why.

Why, Wei Wuxian asks, and Lan Wangji doesn't know how to answer. No. He can't answer without digging into his very core, deeper than the golden core that allows him to be a cultivator. It's too much, especially now.

He looks away again, shoulders slumping slightly before he finds the energy inside him to sit up straight once again. ] You are important.

[ 'You are good' lingers on the tip of his tongue, but he already feels too exposed, too open, and he remembers how Wei Wuxian reacted to that before. He'll keep that, hold on to that truth, until Wei Wuxian can accept his words. ]

['To who, Lan Zhan?' He wants to ask. 'To You?' He holds his tongue knowing that there isn't a single answer to that question that wouldn't destroy him. Instead he closes his eyes and breathes in, a long shuddered inhale.

He doesn't think he's important. He was a little bit once, if only for who he stood with. Then he was very important during the war because of what he brought to the table. Now though, how can he be important? He is not good. He is not strong or wise. He is not able. He has nothing to offer. He is not important to Jiang Cheng or Jiang Yanli. They'll hate him now. He is not important to the Wen Remnant because he'd failed them. He might be important to a-Yuan, but a-Yuan is young enough he'll forget about him soon enough and that's for the better. He will find someone else who'll take care of him and feed him and buy him all the toys he wants.

Wei Wuxian is a man who has outlived his use.

('Am I important to you, Lan Zhan? Is that what you mean?')

Lan Wangji deserved a better zhiji.

He only shakes his head, too tired to do anything more. Too tired to think on these things anymore.]

Lan Zhan, I'm going to go to sleep now. I'm very tired. My head is so...so loud. So busy. Will you...can I ask you for a favor?

Yes.

[ 'Anything,', he doesn't add because that would be too much, too quickly, and there are lines Lan Wangji won't cross. Don't ask him to let go again, Wei Wuxian. ] Rest?

[ The song, he means. To lull Wei Wuxian into a peaceful slumber. ]

['Will you stay until I sleep?'

His eyes remain closed but his lips curve up into the faintest of smiles.]

Mmm. You read my mind. [It serves the same purpose anyway, and it's a better question. Less selfish, he thinks. Or less obvious about his selfishness.] If it isn't too much trouble.

It is not. [ He rises from his kneeling position to give Wei Wuxian a little more space, and room to summon his guqin. ] I will play until you fall asleep.

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