I'm tired
I'm worn
My heart is heavy
From the work it takes to keep on breathing

I've made mistakes
I've let my hope fail
My soul feels crushed
By the weight of this world
And I know that You can give me rest
So I cry out with all that I have left

Let me see redemption win
Let me know the struggle ends
That You can mend a heart that's frail and torn

I want to know a song can rise
From the ashes of a broken life
And all that's dead inside can be reborn
'Cause I'm worn

I know I need
To lift my eyes up
But I'm too weak
Life just won't let up
And I know that You can give me rest
So I cry out with all that I have left

Let me see redemption win
Let me know the struggle ends
That You can mend a heart that's frail and torn

I want to know a song can rise
From the ashes of a broken life
And all that's dead inside can be reborn
'Cause I'm worn

And my prayers are wearing thin
I'm worn even before the day begins
I'm worn I've lost my will to fight
I'm worn so heaven so come and flood my eyes

Let me see redemption win
Let me know the struggle ends
That You can mend a heart that's frail and torn

I want to know a song can rise
From the ashes of a broken life
And all that's dead inside can be reborn
Yes, all that's dead inside will be reborn
Though I'm worn
Yeah, I'm worn

Worn - Tenth Avenue North

Lan Jingyi stared at his hands as he tried to sort through everything he was feeling.

His Baba sat across from him, silent and exhausted.

Both of their eyes were red, and the helplessness, fury, and grief felt fresh all over again.

He wanted to be angry; to lash out at Zewu-jun for trusting and loving the man who had murdered his other father. The one who took his A-Die away from him when he was just a small child.

But at the same time, he knew it wasn't his Baba's fault. And he knew that his Baba was hurting even more due to the depth of the betrayal he'd suffered.

Everything just felt so incredibly unfair.

The only people who were completely happy in the aftermath of all that had happened were Hanguang-jun and Senior Wei.

Jingyi was glad that at least someone was better off now; and was also pleased that the man he'd once called his Sad-Jiujiu was finally truly happy. Not to mention Senior Wei – after everything the two of them had been through, it was only right that they have the chance to be truly happy at last.

He honestly wasn't sure how he should be feeling right now.

But one thing he did know was that he needed to talk to another very important person about everything that had happened.

"Can I talk to Sang-Shufu?" he asked.

His Baba stiffened, almost imperceptibly.

Jingyi couldn't help noticing anyway.

"He helped raise me," he pointed out quietly. "And this affects him just as much as us."

After a brief pause, the man who bore him acknowledged his words with a short, swift jerk of his head. Jingyi released a breath he hadn't even been aware he was holding.

If his Baba had refused to allow him to speak his Nie Uncle, he would have honoured the man's request for silence; but he would have been even more hurt and angry as a result. He probably would have refused to address his father as anything other than "Zewu-jun" until his temper cooled.

Unlike his well-mannered cousin Sizhui, when Jingyi defaulted to formality it was almost always a bad sign.

(Qiren-Feng-Shufu was certain that it was Nie Huaisang's fault Jingyi had Turned Out Like This. Neither of them denied it, because... well, he wasn't exactly wrong.

Baba thought it was Sang-shufu's private revenge for all of the times Feng-Shufu had made him copy the rules when he was younger. Jingyi didn't have the heart to tell him that, no; Jingyi was just Born This Way.)

(The fact that when Wangji-Jiu came out of seclusion a decade ago he had started slipping him toys or sweets whenever he broke the more stupid rules, or was loud and mischievous, or managed to make Feng-Shufu's face turn purple as he sputtered in indignation, was their little secret. It didn't really change anything anyway; just provided him with extra incentive to continue being himself.

He now felt rather smug at the realisation that it must have been because he reminded his Uncle of his lost love, Senior Wei. Wangji-Jiu had simply wanted to encourage him to stay his cheerful, boisterous self.)

Jingyi peeled himself away from his distracted thoughts, and offered the older cultivator a sympathetic look.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Baba," he said.

Baba blinked, staring at him in confusion.

Jingyi sighed. He wasn't the most perceptive person in the world, but he'd long figured out that there was something between his Baba and the former Jin Sect Leader. While he wasn't the least bit sorry or regretful over Jin Guangyao's death, he was sorry that his Baba was having to bury yet another lover.

What's more, the treachery and betrayal he'd suffered, and the belated knowledge that his first cultivation partner had been murdered by the second... he'd lost far more than just a lover or a friend.

He'd lost all of the happy memories the two of them had had together; knowing it had all been a lie. Lost the ability to trust himself and his judgement. His faith in the good in people; every moment of comfort or pleasure he'd once taken in the other man's company was now tainted by the truth.

It was different than simply losing a person to death or a relationship to betrayal - he'd not only lost the man he loved; he learned that the man he loved never even existed in the first place.

That all along, he'd only ever loved a lie.

Someone who wasn't even real; just an act, a role; a mask to be worn.

In a way, he'd actually fallen in love with a fictional character; leaving him to contend with the dual blows of learning that the one he cared for so deeply was never actually a real person to begin with, and facing the death of the actor who'd played him for years.

But just because everything else may have been false, doesn't mean his Baba's feelings were.

Baba's feelings were very real, and they could not simply disappear when the truth came out. His love was deep and pure, and true; and not having a basis for it in reality did not change the fact that it was still there, despite never having had a real foundation to be built on.

The collapse of the relationship he'd thought he'd built didn't eliminate the existence of the wreckage, or its effects on him.

He'd had a vast chasm suddenly gouged through his life, tearing out much of the foundation he depended upon and leaving him broken and bereft. His trust and affection had been so unspeakably violated that he was left lost and uncertain; doubting not only his heart, but his mind as well.

How could anyone can come to terms with that kind of loss?

So regardless of what other emotions Jingyi felt about the whole thing; no matter how tangled and confused they might be, he was deeply sorry for his Baba's loss.

Watching as his Baba shuddered and tightened his arms where they were wrapped around himself, he ached at how lost and fragile the man appeared. Dark circles ringed his eyes which were dropped to gaze down at the table between them, and the expression on his face was wounded and tragic, his lips trembling slightly. His posture was defeated and defensive; the image of one who had suffered far too many blows in too short a time, yet was already bracing himself for another.

Seeing him like this; the man who'd always seemed to him to be such a pillar of strength and serenity, so powerful and unshakably steady and sure, was jarring. He looked so exhausted and hopeless; Jingyi's chest tightened and his breath hitched in concern.

Baba was not alright; not by any means, and it worried him.

"You should sleep, Baba," he said. It took far more effort than he wished to consider to keep the tremor from his voice.

His Baba's lips twisted in a mirthless smile.

"I know."

Jingyi licked his lips.

"Please, Baba," he said. "Please get some rest. You need it."

With an absent nod, his father spoke once more.

"I will; soon. I just wanted to talk to you first. You deserved to know the whole story as soon as possible."

He glanced up, offering Jingyi an eerie ghost of his usual caring smile; as though in the span of hours, he had forgotten how. It was as if his ability to smile had died with Lianfeng-zun, and he couldn't quite resurrect it now when he tried.

Jingyi vaguely recalled his baba being the same way after losing A-Die; and how desperately he clung to Jin Guangyao in the aftermath.

He himself spent a great deal of time afterwards with his cousin Sizhui – still A-Yuan then – and Hanguang-jun; fresh from seclusion.

Neither baba or Sang-shufu had been in a place where they had the time or energy to look after him very much in the wake of losing A-Die; between Sang-shufu struggling to deal with his abrupt ascension to the position of Nie Sect Leader and their shared grief. Dealing with Jingyi's sadness on top of their own, as well as the many necessary tasks and arrangements which demanded their attention was exceedingly difficult.

At barely seven years old, Jingyi had still been young enough to forget to mourn at times; to be distracted and forget for a while that A-Die was gone. It was difficult for both his father and his Nie uncle to avoid serving as reminders to him when they couldn't quite manage to smile with him or indulge him when he was in a good mood, so he was often left to the care of other family or members of the Lan and Nie Sects in the aftermath.

Qiren-Feng-Shufu endeavoured to spend as much time as he could trying to manage Jingyi and mould him into a proper Lan Heir; but he was busy running the Sect much of the time while baba both grieved and aided Sang-Shufu in taking over his own duties.

His Lan uncle and cousin were better company when he was in between bouts of grief than any of his other minders, and had more time at their disposal to spend with him besides.

Despite the constant air of melancholy that surrounded his Sad-Jiujiu, he was indulgent of their joy and encouraging of their enjoyment of life. And even back then, despite how young they were, A-Yuan was deeply empathetic and caring; easily noticing Jingyi's moods and sensing his emotions, he usually managed to pick up on them enough to respond in the ways that helped Jingyi most.

They would play with him and Sizhui would laugh and smile with him when he was happy; while Wangji-jiu would teach them and encourage them, and bring them to the back meadow where he would teach them how to care for and interact with the rabbits. Fun enough to entertain them, but quiet enough to calm them down when they got too carried away; it kept them out of trouble, prevented them from disturbing other residents of the Cloud Recesses, and allowed Jingyi to avoid the many lectures he would otherwise be subjected to – not just for his lack of decorum and inappropriate behaviour for a Lan in general and the Sect Heir in particular, but for daring to be anything but appropriately and respectfully sombre during the expected and required mourning period for his A-Die.

Of course, when he was grieving and upset, the Elders were still unhappy with his conduct; sternly reminding him that excessive grief was forbidden.

Wangji-jiu was excellent company for him during those times as well.

Spending time petting the rabbits was soothing when he was listless and unhappy, calming when he was frustrated and miserable. It was deeply comforting being held and silently supported by his uncle who understood and empathized with his loss; who quietly shared the story of his response to losing Jingyi's grandmother Lan, and the constant disapproval he faced for his own reaction to his loss.

Despite not being particularly close to his A-Die, Wangji-jiu seemed to share in his grief, even donning mourning clothes alongside him; though Jingyi eventually noticed he never stopped wearing mourning clothes, he instinctively knew it was better not to ask.

Well, at least he was hesitant to ask his uncle about it himself; petitioning his cousin for answers merely resulted in Sizhui confiding to him that he suspected that his father was mourning for his mother – Lans as a rule only loved once, and they agreed that Hanguang-jun seemed to be grieving the death of his own; the secret wife who had borne him Sizhui. Jingyi was now aware that only part of Wangji-jiu's sadness had been sympathy for him and his Baba; the remainder was due to his ongoing mourning of Senior Wèi.

The thought struck him then, that Sizhui's mysterious "mother" had actually most likely been Senior Wei; he wondered if Sizhui knew, and how he was reacting to having his bearer back again. His heart stuttered in his chest at the thought of what it would be like to suddenly and inexplicably have his own lost parent returned to him; a reaction made even sharper for the recent renewal of his grief at the news that his A-Die had been murdered. He stifled the brief sting of envy, focusing instead on the fleeting sense of gratitude that Sizhui had been reunited with his absent bearer.

Who he supposed he should start referring to as Wuxian-jiu now.

Brushing the revelation aside for now, he focused on his Baba once more. He cast his thoughts about for an idea that might help him gain the rest he so clearly needed now.

"Do you want me to keep you company for tonight, Baba?"

The offer slipped out before he could think better of it; surprising him almost as much as his father. Privately, Jingyi wondered if his Baba was not the only one who might need comfort tonight. He hadn't shared quarters with his bearer in a long time, though he had done so at a much later age than was generally accepted.

His birth near the beginning of the Sunshot campaign meant that he was left almost entirely in the care of Sang-shufu alone from his infancy throughout the duration of the war.

Baba and A-Die were essentially strangers to him afterwards, and he was heart-broken to be separated from his beloved Sang-shufu for the first time when the man who'd raised him to toddlerhood returned him to his parents. As a result of both their separation and a desperate desire to connect to the baby he had been able to see growing up, his Baba kept him in his own room, sharing his bed with him for several years afterwards.

His transition to staying in his own room had then been interrupted for a while by A-Die's sudden death; when both he and Baba had needed the solace and reassurance of each other's presence to get through the nights until the sharp immediacy of their grief had softened with time and healing.

Eventually he had adjusted to sleeping alone in his own bed, but had continued to occasionally seek out his Baba on nights where he had nightmares or after a particularly difficult and upsetting day for a while; though he had not done so for years now.

In the beginning, while he was still getting to know his fathers, he actually slept snuggled between the two of them whenever they managed to spend a night together; though eventually he spent those nights cuddled up happily with his Sang-shufu in order to give them some privacy together.

The only other times he did not sleep with his Baba were during the visits to Qinghe when his baba could not stay as long as Jingyi himself did, due to his duties as Sect Leader.

During those visits, A-Die would always lead him into his room and tuck him into his own bed, where he would spend the night nestled comfortably against his other father's chest. And of course Sang-shufu would then slip in once A-Die had nearly fallen asleep, shamelessly crawling in to join them. A-Die would always grumble and complain that Sang-shufu was much too old to be doing that, but he never hesitated to reach out and pull his little brother closer and wrap an arm around him as well.

Jingyi abruptly realised that he missed it; the comfort and warmth of his parents holding him while he slept. It was a slightly embarrassing revelation, given his age; but then he had only just started to sleep on his own when A-Die died, and had immediately returned to clinging to his Baba at night and being clung to in return. The resurgence of his old grief in the wake of the revelation of the truth behind A-Die's death made him ache for that old, familiar consolation and closeness.

Baba looked up, startled into meeting his eyes at his unexpected offer. An offer, Jingyi realised somewhat guilty, that was really more of a request.

Now it was his turn to hunch his shoulders and look away.

"I'd like that, baobei," Baba's gentle voice reassured him, and he glanced back up in relief.

The smile Baba gave him was tired and worn, but still more real than any he'd seen him wearing since he returned from the altercation with Jin Guangyao in Guanyin Temple, and his eyes carried a hint of their familiar warmth.

Relief filled him at the confirmation that he'd made the right choice.

Baba looked away again, smile dimming once more.

"I'll send a message to A-Sa- to Huaisang in the morning," he said, flinching slightly as he stumbled just slightly over Sang-shufu's name. "But for now, it's past curfew."

Jingyi nodded, only now recognizing his own tiredness. He offered Baba his own reassuring smile, trying to convey all the things he felt without speaking, and saw his Baba's eyes grow soft and his smile just a touch more honest in return.