In all of the cultivation world, there is probably no one who dreams such a wide variety of nightmares as Wei Wuxian, the Yiling Patriarch, does. If given the opportunity, he would probably brag about it – only to then laugh and wave the matter away, upon seeing the scowl on Hanguang-Jun's face and the glint in his eyes telling him that nightmares are no laughing matter.

What Lan Zhan does not understand, though – what he still does not understand, even after all these years – is that sometimes, things get so bad that there is nothing else to do but laugh.

Most nights though, Wei Wuxian does not even wake from the dreams. They dance around the edges of his sleep, sometimes lurking, other times appearing in flashes, gone before he can truly tell which one it is. They are never pleasant – they are nightmares, after all – but he knows them well enough and can push them away and sleep on.

Others wake him late in the night, his heart pounding and cold sweat making the bed linens cling to his skin. Sometimes, it is enough to snuggle close to Lan Zhan, peacefully sleeping beside him, and let his zhiji's steady breathing and strong heartbeat lull him into some state of dozing. Other nights, he will press a kiss to his lover's shoulder or cheek and leave the bed with a whispered "I'll be right back", and spend a few hours drinking tea or watching the stars, before he can return to bed.

They are not pleasant, any of them, but those are all nightmares he can handle. He can live with them as matters of fact, a condition of this second chance at life he has been given. But there are other nights.

"…ng."

The sound is barely audible over the howling winds.

"…ing."

It must be his head playing tricks on him, because there is no one else here, and besides, it is too loud for any such small sound to be heard. The sound of the wind is deafening and over it he can still hear cackling, maniacal laughter, and he is screaming, screaming until it feels like his throat is ripped out of him, until his ears fill with another kind of screaming. Voices, millions of voices screaming and whispering and wailing-

"Wei Ying!"

He is brought out of the dream like a drowning man breaching the surface. Gulping for air he grasps for purchase and his fingers close around soft fabric and warm skin – arms, human arms, pulling him up and out the dream and into a sitting position. Shivering he claws at the other man's robe and his eyes dart wildly around the room, not daring to linger anywhere in case something lurks in the shadows.

"Wei Ying."

"Help" he wheezes, forcing the single word out through his shallow, rapid breaths. His chest is so tight, like there is not enough space for his lungs to take in any air, and he cannot speak and he cannot see and he needs, he needs

"Wei Ying" someone calls again, and he realises now that it is not any random someone. It is Lan Zhan's voice, and Lan Zhan's arms holding him, and Lan Zhan's robe and comforting sandalwood scent, and this is their bed, in the Jingshi, in Cloud Recesses, and only once he has catalogued all of these things does his eyes dare to seek out Lan Zhan's face.

He cannot make it out at all.

"Help" he begs again, distantly aware of the fat tears spilling down his cheeks, but more aware still of the hands on his wrist tightening their grip.

"You are with me" Lan Zhan says, trying but failing to entirely hide the uncertainty tainting his words. "You are safe."

His voice is trembling, Wei Wuxian notices over the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

"I've got you." Another squeeze of his wrists. "It was a dream. You are safe now."

"Da-dark…"

"I will light the candles" Lan Zhan replies, his voice slightly steadier now, "in a moment. Will you be alright if I let go of you?"

"No!" Wei Wuxian almost screams at the thought and clutches his zhiji's robes harder, trying desperately to get enough air.

"Then, please endure the darkness a little longer. I am still here."

He tries to take comfort from this, he truly does, but it is just so difficult to think of anything but how he cannot breathe and how the world seems to be spinning, despite how tightly Lan Zhan is holding him.

"Anything you need."

Lan Zhan's words come as from afar, but he latches on to them and moves. There is fabric everywhere and his legs are tangled up in the mess of sheets and covers, but he manages to clamber up into Lan Zhan's lap and wrap both his arms and his legs around the other man's body. Wei Wuxian clings to him desperately, wheezing pitifully, and he feels Lan Zhan's arms around him, and his scent and his warmth, but it is still not enough to drive away the cold winds or the cackling laughter still echoing madly in his mind.

Then, without any warning or even a clearing of his throat, Lan Zhan begins to sing.

His voice is low but clear, and every word and every note feel like another hand reaching out to catch him. Wei Wuxian knows this song; knows it so well that even after having only heard it once, he carried it deep within his heart through years and years of loneliness and struggle, and even death. He has heard it played more times since, and played it himself just as many times, but it is something else entirely to hear it sung. Each word is suffused with longing anticipation and nostalgic recollection, the pain of loss and the hope of brighter tomorrows, and promises of love, and love, and more love until the end of days.

Wei Wuxian clings to the song with his mind just as he clings to Lan Zhan with his body. He envisions every word, every pause and intonation, and what the song sounds like on the guqin and on the dizi, either on their own or together. When Lan Zhan falls quiet, Wei Wuxian has no idea how much time has passed, but he thinks the song must have been sung at least four times, perhaps several more.

"Better?" Lan Zhan asks quietly, and Wei Wuxian is distraught to hear how hoarse his voice is, even in that single word.

"Yeah" he replies weakly, only now realising that although he still feels faint and his throat is raw, he can breathe freely again. "Thank you."

"No need" Lan Zhan says, and his predictable reply makes Wei Wuxian smile, if only for a brief moment.

"Are you alright?" he asks, still not ready to let go entirely of Lan Zhan, but easing his hold somewhat.

"Difficult" his partner says. "Seeing Wei Ying suffer."

Wei Wuxian tries very hard not to let guilt flood him, and is not entirely successful.

"You helped" he says instead. "You always help."

"Still difficult."

"I'm sorry."

This time, Lan Zhan does not say anything, but in his very slight scoff, Wei Wuxian can hear the dismissive reply as clearly as though it had been spoken aloud.

"Do you want light?"

Wei Wuxian knows that if he asked for it, his zhiji would fetch him the sun itself, but he shakes his head. In all honesty, some light would probably ease his mind. Even a single candle would make a world of difference, and it would not be the first time Lan Zhan lit up the entire Jingshi for him, but if there is one thing Wei Wuxian knows better than anyone, it is that you cannot outrun shadows. The stronger the light you shine, the more devious the darkness becomes.

"Can we go outside?" he asks, and so what if it comes out a little pleading? He is miserable.

Of course, he knows that he should not ask Lan Zhan for this. He knows the Lan sect rules as well as any Lan disciple, and although he has never cared overly much about breaking them himself, he knows that he should not be making Lan Zhan, Hanguang-Jun, even consider a transgression of them, no matter how miserable Wei Wuxian is. And still he asks, because he wants it and because he knows that Lan Zhan will always try to give him anything he wants.

Wei Wuxian truly is a villain like that.

"Warm clothes" Lan Zhan says after some consideration, in a way that makes it abundantly clear that this is not a suggestion.

"If you insist" Wei Wuxian says, although he will gladly put on some extra layers if that will make Lan Zhan come outside with him. He places a conciliatory kiss on Lan Zhan's neck and hugs him a little tighter, before scrambling out of his lap. His legs are all tangled up in sheets and robes, but at least he does get out of the bed on his feet and not flat on his face, so that is something.

They get dressed in the darkness; by now, even Wei Wuxian can find his way blindfolded around the Jingshi, and they are both silent as they put on layers upon layers of robes. Just before he is about to open the door to head out, Lan Zhan clears his throat slightly and when Wei Wuxian turns around, Lan Zhan offers him a lantern. The paper makes soft, crinkling sounds in his hands as he holds it, and then Lan Zhan lights it, causing a sphere of soft and yellow light to chase some of the darkness away.

The inner grounds of Cloud Recesses are just as quiet as they ever are by night, but the silence is somehow enhanced by the thick layers of snow on the ground and the icicles that have begun to take shape below the roof trimmings. In the faint light of sparsely placed lanterns along the pathways, Wei Wuxian can make out patches of mist drifting like veils just above the ground, but the night sky above is clear: the ink black interspersed with millions and millions of bright dots and the Silver River painted with a wide brush stroke across the heavens. He has no clear plan, no set destination in mind, but trusts his feet to carry him to a good place.

Not that there are many bad places in Cloud Recesses. Despite all its rigid rules and bland food, Wei Wuxian feels more and more at home here with each passing moon. There is no part he needs to play, and more importantly, no part to avoid. He can just exist here, as himself, with Lan Zhan by his side.

Lan Zhan, who by all rights should be comfortably asleep in his bed right now, and not woken up by nightmares or tugged along on some foolhardy escapist walk in the small hours of the night, but who is coming along anyway.

Wei Wuxian does not deserve this man.

He comes to a stop below a clear patch on a hillside in the back mountain. They are still technically within Cloud Recesses, but deep within its wards and walls where guards never patrol, and far enough from the residences not to risk disturbing anyone if they should make noise. Not that Wei Wuxian intends to make noise, but sometimes, noise just… happens. Intentionally or otherwise. And when it comes to making noise in Cloud Recesses, he has learned that it is much better to be safe than sorry.

It is a little tricky to navigate up the small hillside, over the loose rubble hidden under drifts of snow, but once they are up there, they are above the treetops and thus have an unimpeded view of everything below and everything above. The air is still and cold and crisp. No winds, no screams, only the peaceful mountain and the quiet sky above.

Wei Wuxian inhales a long, deep breath, and lets it out slowly, and then again, and once more. The air passes freely and he opens his eyes, realising only as he does so, that he must have closed them at some point. Lan Zhan is looking at him and in the light of the lantern, Wei Wuxian can make out a frown.

"I'm alright" he says. "Whatever that is, it's over."

Lan Zhan's frown only deepens, which is saying something, because Lan Zhan almost never allows himself to show actual expressions.

"It is not 'whatever'" he says. "It is the same. Again."

Wei Wuxian glances away. His zhiji is right, of course, and there is no denying that fact.

"This time" Lan Zhan continues, "will you tell me?"

This time.

He has no idea how many times this has happened by now, but there is no doubt in his mind that Lan Zhan has kept a record. Perhaps not a written one, though that would not be entirely surprising, but definitely a mental one. Enough times, certainly, that it is clear to both of them that this is a reoccurring event that plays itself out in much the same way each time. Only, he still has not told Lan Zhan why it happens.

He swallows.

"I'd really rather not."

"Unlucky."

He chuckles, despite himself, and glances back at Lan Zhan again. His expression has softened somewhat, but he is still definitely frowning.

"Wei Ying" Lan Zhan says, and Wei Wuxian almost shudders with pleasure at the sound of his birth name spoken like that. It is the same experience every time. "Will you tell me?"

It is almost a trick question.

The way Lan Zhan has phrased it, Wei Wuxian can answer in either an affirmative or rejective way – yes, or no – and he knows with absolute certainty, that Lan Zhan will respect either reply. But, and this is the tricky part, although there is no 'please' among the words, it is very much present in the question itself. It is there in Lan Zhan's voice, and in his expression, and in the way he repeated his question word by word when Wei Wuxian did not give him a proper answer the first time. He wants to know, he wants to help, and he wants Wei Wuxian to let him in.

"I suppose it would be unfair if I didn't" he says at last. "But perhaps we should find somewhere else? Somewhere we can sit down. I didn't really consider the snow…"

He gives the drifts of snow a mournful glance. It looks soft and cosy enough, but even with double layers of his warmest winter robes, he knows they will be cold and wet within minutes if they sit down. Wordlessly, Lan Zhan reaches into his qiankun sleeves and pulls out two large rolls of thick, soft fabric, which he offers to Wei Wuxian.

"Blankets?" Wei Wuxian looks up at the other man. "You thought to bring blankets?"

"Wei Ying enjoys sitting outside" Lan Zhan says. "It will do, for a time."

Wei Wuxian blinks a few times, taken aback yet again by how attentive and thoughtful his partner is. He was not even aware himself that he might want to sit down, but Lan Zhan brought blankets, because of course he would have remembered about the snow and cold, just as he thought to bring a lantern to light their way.

Wei Wuxian sticks the lantern in the snow and squats on the ground where he unrolls the first blanket. He does not spread it fully, though, but leaves it folded so that it is still in two layers. Then he puts the second blanket on top of the first in the same manner, giving them a solid four layers of blanket to sit on. It will not last them too long, but it is as Lan Zhan said: it will do for a time.

Satisfied with his work, Wei Wuxian plops down on one side of the strip of blankets and pats the free space next to him. After a moment's pause, Lan Zhan gathers his robes and sits down as gracefully as though they were in the cultivation chamber or at a Discussion Conference. Wei Wuxian cannot help but lean into his side and rest his head against Lan Zhan's shoulder, sighing contentedly as he looks out over the dark expanse below.

"This is nice" he says, burrowing into Lan Zhan's shoulder slightly, just for the pleasure of being allowed to do so. "I love how much space there is here."

Lan Zhan tenses infinitesimally.

"You… love it?" he asks, tentatively. "Here?"

Wei Wuxian frowns slightly and looks up at his partner's face, faintly illuminated by the lantern in the snow.

"Of course I do." He studies Lan Zhan's face for a moment: the flickers of emotion in his eyes, the way he presses his lips together ever so lightly. "Lan Zhan, did you think I didn't?"

"You used not to." Lan Zhan's voice is low, but Wei Wuxian can hear the embarrassment that hangs heavily on each word. Embarrassment for what? "Cold. Quiet. Rules."

"Lan Zhan" he says, even as he is still trying to piece together what Lan Zhan is asking him, "I'm not staying in Cloud Recesses against my will. I'm not even staying here because it's where you want to stay. Obviously, I would go wherever you go, and this is your family and your sect and I know you love it here. But I love it for its own merits. It's different from Yunmeng and I'll always love that, too, but my heart lives in Gusu now."

"Mn."

It is the smallest, most pleasantly pleased sound, and Wei Wuxian scoots a little closer, prompting Lan Zhan to put his arm around his shoulders.

"I should have told you sooner" Wei Wuxian says. "I love it here. Despite the rules, since you always make exceptions for me now. And you always keep me warm."

Lan Zhan makes a tiny scoff, which makes Wei Wuxian giggle as he once again looks out across the dark lands and brilliant sky.

"This place" he begins, "it holds only good memories for me. I think that's because I never came back with you, back then, when you asked me. If I had, I think this place too would hold… anyway, I feel at peace here."

Unlike Yunmeng and Lotus Cove. Unlike Lanling or Qinghe. Or Yiling. Especially Yiling.

"Do you know, I don't even know if I still get regular dreams" he muses. "I can never remember them, in that case. But I remember every nightmare."

Lan Zhan's hand on his shoulder gives him a squeeze, and Wei Wuxian is not sure if it is a gesture of comfort or of protection. Maybe both.

"What do you dream?" Lan Zhan asks quietly. "In your nightmares."

"Everything" he replies with a wan smile. "Sometimes I'm back inside the Xuanwu beast's shell. Sometimes I'm at Qiongqi path, realising that Wen Ning has died. He has always been the kindest person, you know. He helped me and Jiang Cheng so much, saved us, so many times, just because I was kind to him once. It was so unfair. All I wanted to do was give him a chance to get back at them."

He scoffs at this, at his own vain ignorance. Not only that he did not even stop to check if Wen Ning was actually dead, but that he had made that decision for him, even though it was something his friend would never have wanted in the first place. He never asked to be able to fight back, or to be fearless, or a puppet to anyone holding strings, or a knife in someone else's hand. Wei Wuxian made him into that, against his will, and he will never be able to make up for it.

Lan Zhan says nothing, but his silence leaves room for Wei Wuxian's thoughts to catch up with his emotions.

"I don't regret bringing him back, exactly. It's just… it also caused him even more pain."

"Happiness, too" Lan Zhan says. "He is content."

"He is" Wei Wuxian agrees, because Wen Ning is happy. His happiness is written all over his face, despite how difficult it is for him to make his muscles shape expressions. He lives in his secluded little room here on the mountain, tends his garden and grows medicinal herbs. He helps the youngest disciples, those children only recently taken into the sect, with their archery practice and gives them pouches of medicinal herbs to carry with them, 'just in case', and every so often, he leaves Cloud Recesses to go on night hunts with the junior disciples.

"Sizhui is happy to have him here, too" Lan Zhan adds, proving again how adept he is at reading Wei Wuxian's mind.

"Yeah."

The thought of Sizhui warms him to his core. Still does, after almost two years since he found out who Sizhui was and what Lan Zhan had done for the both of them. That little A-Yuan is still alive, and well, and even head disciple of the Lan sect… it is all too much.

"I would assume" Lan Zhan continues, each word carefully weighed and considered before spoken, "that you dream of others dying as well."

It is probably the gentlest way of asking, Wei Wuxian realises that, but it still hurts.

"All the time" he whispers, then swallows, and closes his eyes. "Uncle Jiang, and Madam Yu – not dying, but I see their bodies."

Broken and bloodied in the courtyard at Lotus Cove, hands outstretched toward each other, just out of reach, as their home and sect burn to the ground around them.

"Jiang Cheng was right about that. It was my fault. No, Lan Zhan" he adds quickly, sensing the protest rising in his zhiji's body. "I know that Wen Chao would have come for the Yunmeng Jiang sect sooner or later anyway, but I gave him the excuse he needed, and if I hadn't, maybe Jiang Cheng's parents would have survived."

Lan Zhan does not speak, but Wei Wuxian knows he disagrees, which does not really help right now.

"I seem to have a knack for getting people's parents killed…"

"Jiang Yanli?" Lan Zhan guesses.

"And her peacock of a husband" he says with a scoff, then adds, softer: "But yes, shijie most of all."

He sees her as she is cut down by a corpse out of his control. He sees her fall, he holds her trembling frame in his arms, and she comforts him. She is wiping his tears, how fucked up is that? And then she pushes him aside, using all her meagre supply of spiritual power, and he sees the sword pierce her heart.

"But you did not dream about her tonight" Lan Zhan says, making Wei Wuxian look up at him. Lan Zhan notices, and clarifies: "You call her name, then. Not tonight."

How many times must Lan Zhan have been woken up by Wei Wuxian's nightmares to be able to say this with such certainty? Much too many nights, that is painfully clear.

"Not tonight" he agrees, feeling the echo of the nightmare like the touch of a ghost on his skin.

"I could not rouse you. When at last you woke, you could not breathe and was in terror." Lan Zhan sounds troubled. It should not be surprising, because Wei Wuxian is always causing him trouble, whether he means to or not, but this time, there is worry, too. "This has happened before, always together."

"You want to know if it's the same nightmare every time." It is not a question, and Lan Zhan does not answer, so Wei Wuxian does it himself: "Yes, it's the same one."

"What is it?"

Wei Wuxian closes his eyes and bites his lower lip until it is almost numb. When that does not help – and why should it? – and at long last he manages to speak, only a single word comes out.

"Falling."

Lan Zhan's sharp intake of breath makes him instantly regret the awful choice of word.

"No, no no no no no, not that time" he hurries to say as he turns on the blanket to face his partner properly and take his hand. Lan Zhan's face is frozen in horror and pain and although he is completely silent, Wei Wuxian can hear his desperate cry as though he was screaming his heart out now and not all those years ago. "Not that time, Lan Zhan."

"When? Else?"

The words are forced out with so much effort, Wei Wuxian knows that his partner is losing his speech.

"You know" he says, trying to be gentle. "The other one."

Lan Zhan just stares at him, unshed tears glimmering in his eyes.

"When. Else?" he asks again, his voice sounding as though speaking the words is tearing him apart.

And only then does it hit Wei Wuxian: He has never actually told Lan Zhan about Wen Chao and the Burial Mounds.

Sure, he has said that he was thrown into the Burial Mounds, but that is not a secret, since Wen Chao spread it around like some sort of triumphant rumour all over the cultivation world at the time. And while 'thrown into' is technically, horrifyingly correct – well, few people would take it that literally, would they? And he has never told Lan Zhan what truly happened, not in any detail.

It will hurt him.

It will hurt him so deeply.

But not telling him will hurt worse, Wei Wuxian knows this, too. Keeping him in the dark about anything at all, no matter how insignificant, is something Wei Wuxian vowed to never do again.

"I'll tell you about it" he says gently, holding one of Lan Zhan's clenched hands between his own, "I promise. But I want you to hold me while I do it, alright? I'll sit in front of you, and I want to feel your arms around me, and if you need me to stop, you have to let me know."

Lan Zhan nods mutely and Wei Wuxian gives him a small smile to reassure him. This unbidden and pained silence happens sometimes, he knows now. Sometimes when his partner is emotionally overwhelmed, speech eludes him and he falls silent against his will, unable to express either thoughts or emotions verbally. Over the past few years, they have learned ways to navigate when it happens and to communicate without words if needed, but usually, all that is truly needed is time: time, and reassurance. Words are good but touch is always best, and for this particular topic, Wei Wuxian thinks they both need to feel each other close. And since Lan Zhan is always happier to give something than to ask for it, Wei Wuxian will gladly make the request for both of them.

He moves to sit between Lan Zhan's legs, his back as close to his partner's chest as he can get, and he leans back a little. As soon as he is settled, Lan Zhan's arms wrap around him and he is cocooned in warmth.

"There" Wei Wuxian says, "that is much better, isn't it? All warm and snug in my Lan Zhan's arms."

It is probably his favourite place in the world. Right now, he cannot think of any other places that can even come close, much less compete. If he must speak about this particular nightmare – and he must, for Lan Zhan's sake – then this is the best place to do it.

But it is still not easy.

"My nightmare tonight…" he begins haltingly, "is from when I fell into the Burial Mounds."

He bites his lips again, and tries not to envision the memory even as he tries to choose the right words to retell it.

"When Wen Chao and his men caught me in Yiling, it was right after… you know, the core thing. They beat me up, and of course I was mouthing off, and threatened them with becoming a ferocious ghost and haunting them forever if they killed me. It got to him, Wen Chao, like I could see the fear in his eyes, and then he and his men took me on their swords and flew to the Burial Mounds. To above the Burial Mounds."

Even through the thick layers of winter robes that they are both wearing, he can feel Lan Zhan's muscles tense. His own lips are stiff and he hears the sound of his own voice as though it is coming from a distance.

"I don't know how high up we were. There were clouds and strong winds, and my body was hurting all over. And Wen Chao… he told me where we were and that even if I turned into a ghost, I would never get out of the Burial Mounds. And then he… he laughed, and… pushed me off the swords."

He closes his eyes and swallows.

"I fell" he says, and the words feel hollow, as though his voice cannot possibly hold the terror of that fall. "I fell and I fell and I kept falling. It was so far to the ground, Lan Zhan. I almost began to wish I'd hit the ground just to not have to keep falling."

His voice is no more than a whisper, broken and jagged, and Lan Zhan hugs him tightly from behind.

"What happened?"

"Nothing happens. I just keep on falling and I can't wake up. That's all it is. Falling, unendingly."

"No. Then. How did you survive?"

"I… I don't think I did."

Complete stillness falls over them. Nothing is heard over the snow-covered mountain, not even breaths or heartbeats, only the deafening silence of the night.

"No one survives a fall like that" Wei Wuxian continues. "Even I know that. And I didn't have my sword, or even a golden core. But the resentful energy in the Burial Mounds, it has its own mind, and it's… hungry. It wants to grow, it wants power, so when it felt my resentment, my need to live, my desire for revenge, it… caught me, in a way. It offered me my body back, and power, and all I had to give in return was to let it use my body as its vessel. It was a trade, and I walked out of there, and I got my revenge. But I must have been dead, at least for some time."

After all, his body had been broken to pieces, and he had had nothing: no weapons, no medicine, no tools, no core. But the resentful energy had no need for any of that. It had a life of its own and it fed off of pain and misery and rage. Night after night, it pulled him apart, and come morning, he was put back together again, angry and alone and hurting. Every day, the hollow where his core had been would grow larger, but instead of filling up with something else, it just got emptier.

But Lan Zhan does not need to hear that now. Someday, Wei Wuxian might tell him, but not tonight.

"I don't know why I can't wake up" he says, moving on and back to the nightmare. "I only know that when I do wake up, it's thanks to you. I can't breathe and I feel dizzy and like I'm still falling, but you're always there and you hold me and help me get my breath back. You're the one who gets me out of it, every time."

And he is still holding him Anchoring him to the world with his arms, letting him feel grounded in every possible way. He always does that.

"It is never…" Lan Zhan says, voice thick.

"Never what?"

"The other time?"

Wei Wuxian's heart thumps sadly and he lets himself melt a little further back into the embrace.

"No" he says, shaking his head. "I remember your face and your voice better than almost anything else, but it never comes back to me at night, and I never dream about that fall. After all… that was something I wanted."

They have broached this subject before, but Lan Zhan still reacts in the same way. He freezes up, every muscle tensed as if prepared to fight, and although he cannot hear or feel it, Wei Wuxian knows that his zhiji's heart is beating furiously. It should perhaps not surprise him, and it does not really, but the fact that he once wanted to kill himself is something they need to acknowledge, both of them. Not excuse, or be fine with, but acknowledge.

"Lan Zhan" he whispers, looking up at the sky, "let me tell you something else. Something I haven't told you before."

Lan Zhan makes a noise that Wei Wuxian has never heard before. It is not one from his usual repertoire, not affirmative or scolding or mildly encouraging. This one sounds distressed, and Wei Wuxian wriggles his arms loose and puts them over Lan Zhan's arms, in as close as he can get to returning the embrace.

"When I first returned… when I woke up at Mo Manor, I was pissed off. I couldn't believe my soul was resentful enough to be summoned and I totally didn't accept the fact that some low-level wannabe like Mo Xuanyu could have summoned anything, let alone me. And did I tell you that the first thing that happened was that I was beaten up? It was embarrassing, and everything hurt, and I just wanted to go back to being dead."

Above them, the stars are twinkling just as brightly as before. There was a time when Wei Wuxian found the night sky oppressive, an inconceivable weight threatening to fall down on him, but that was a long time ago, on a very distant mountain.

"I still don't remember what it was like, and I don't know where my soul was all those years, but I knew that I had been dead and I knew that a lot of time had passed, and I just… couldn't face going back to being alive."

Being dead was easier. Sure, it did not have any of the highlights of being alive, but it did not have any of the drawbacks, either. You could not fail anyone when you were dead. You could not lose any more people, when you yourself was already gone. Coming back to life, not knowing how much time had passed or where to even begin living, had been… daunting, to say the least.

"I mean, I wasn't even in my own body!"

He lets go of his embrace with one arm and raises it in front of them, holding his hand up for both of them to see in the dim lantern light. It is familiar to him now, but still… off.

"It's still so weird. Most of the time, it feels like it's mine. I mean, it is, now. But it doesn't have any of my old scars, and it's shorter and weaker, and whenever I see my reflection, I don't see my face. And sometimes, in the mornings, when I wake up – it's like I sink back down into it. Like my soul almost left it when I wasn't paying attention."

He realises, rather belatedly, that he is making it sound as if perhaps he wants this to happen; that he cannot wait to be dead again. Nothing could be further from the truth, so he puts his hand back down and Lan Zhan catches it immediately, entwining their fingers as if afraid Wei Wuxian might slip out of his grasp.

"I want to stay, though, Lan Zhan. Not only here in Cloud Recesses with you, but alive."

He leans back a little further still against his zhiji's chest but keeps his gaze on the heavens above.

"When I died, I felt like I was alone in the world. That there was no one by my side and that everyone would be better off if I just disappeared."

"Wei Ying" Lan Zhan says in protest, and there is so much pain in his voice, Wei Wuxian simply must turn his head and snuggle his face against his neck.

"I know that wasn't true" he says consolingly. "I know that now, Lan Zhan, but I didn't back then, and I didn't right when I first returned. I know now because you showed me."

Even now, he still cannot quite wrap his head around how much Lan Zhan risked to help him. His relationship with his family, his standing in the cultivational world and his reputation in the world at large, but also his life, over and over again, for someone who for years did nothing but fight him and disappoint him and then finally abandoned him. It is unfathomable just how much he has given Wei Wuxian over the years; how much he still gives him, every day.

"You knew me at once, and you brought me to safety here, and even helped me clear my name – well, parts of it, anyway – and you… you showed me that I wasn't alone. That I still have reasons to be here. So what if this body doesn't quite feel like mine? The more time I spend in it, the more familiar it becomes. I will have new scars."

"No."

"Yes, I will" Wei Wuxian chuckles, "but that's not a bad thing. I kind of want some more. Right now, there are only Mo Xuanyu's curse scars and the one from when Jin Ling stabbed me. It's pitiful, really."

"No" Lan Zhan says again, and Wei Wuxian can hear the low rumble of his voice where his face is tucked up right by Lan Zhan's neck. "Scars mean injuries. No more injuries."

Wei Wuxian's heart melts a little in his chest, and he nods.

"Okay" he whispers, cheeks heating. "No more injuries. I'll try."

"No more falling."

"I'll try, Lan Zhan" he says earnestly. If he could promise never to fall again, if he could say with absolute certainty that he would never even take so much as a stumble again, he would promise it in a heartbeat. But he does not know for sure, so a promise to try is the best he can give. He smiles as a thought crosses his mind. "But if I do, you'll catch me again, won't you?"

"Always."

Lan Zhan's voice is a reassuring rumble, as steady as the mountain underneath, and Wei Wuxian cannot help but squiggle happily within the embrace of his arms.

"Wei Ying…"

Wei Wuxian stills. Lan Zhan calling his name is always pleasant, but this time, it is different. There is something held back behind the sound of his name; something potentially painful.

"Yeah?" he asks, uncertainly.

"… don't let go."

A breath he did not know he held comes rushing out of him in an explosive, tremulous little 'ha'. His eyes water, but when he speaks, his voice is firm:

"Never."

Neither of them says anything for a long while. Wei Wuxian is perfectly happy to sit as he is, enveloped in Lan Zhan's arms and leaning back against him, sitting on a mountainside and looking up at the endless expanse of a brilliantly star-speckled night sky. The Silver River is almost radiant and there are many shooting stars tonight, painting bright lines over the dark heavens.

That place inside him, where once a golden core and then a large emptiness sat, is filled with something else these days, and that something grows a little in this moment, in a burst that sends a shiver down his spine and all over his body.

"Wei Ying."

"Mmm?"

"Are you cold?"

"No…" He shakes his head slowly, and very gently, since he is still resting his head closely to Lan Zhan's neck. "I'm happy, Lan Zhan."

He wishes he could let Lan Zhan step into his heart and see how inadequate that word is, how short it falls of an infinitely larger sensation that is all thanks to him.

"I'm happy to be here with you, to live with you in this beautiful place, and most of all, to have you. If having nightmares is the only price I have to pay to have this second chance with you, then I'll gladly pay it."

Perhaps this too is a trade, and one he was never given the opportunity to refuse when Mo Xuanyu summoned him, but he knows that it is not a bad one. If anything, it is more than he could ever have hoped for, and he intends to make the most of it. Soon, they will get up and roll up the blankets, and make their slow way down the mountainside again. It will be slippery, what with the snow and the loose rubble underneath, but Wei Wuxian is not afraid of falling. Lan Zhan will be there to catch him, as he always is, and this time, Wei Wuxian will not let go.


A/N: As it turns out, writing Wei Ying's chapter took virtually no time at all. I struggled with Lan Zhan for weeks, but Wei Ying? Four days, it took. Four days although it took some time before I got around to publishing it here on FFN. That being said, I have not rushed this chapter at all, but as soon as I even considered beginning to write, it was as though Wei Ying leapt out and demanded my full attention. And I do like the way it turned out. Hopefully, so do you c:

I am hoping to get around to writing at least one more chapter in this little collection, and I think it might just be Lan Xichen's turn. However, I'm not making any promises as to when that chapter might appear, as I'm working on a separate story with Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen as well. Until next time: thank you so much for reading and I hope to see you again soon! 3