Chapter Text
when enemies are at your door
I’ll carry you away from war
if you need help, if you need help
your hope dangling by a string
I’ll share in your suffering
to make you well, to make you well
- Phillip Phillips, “Gone, Gone, Gone”
The first sign Lan Wangji had that something was wrong was when Wei Wuxian woke in the cave after they had killed Xuanwu, half-conscious and feverish, and thought, Wow, Lan Zhan’s lips are really pink, like lotus petal pink. I kinda want to touch them. Is that weird? and then passed out again.
The second sign Lan Wangji had that something was wrong was when he was carefully building the fire back up, thinking of Cloud Recesses and desperately hoping that Lan Xichen was somewhere safe, and Wei Wuxian drowsily said behind him, “I’m sure he’s fine, Lan Zhan . . . he’s the great Zewu-Jun, after all . . .”
“Mn,” Lan Wangji said, not really realizing at first that Wei Wuxian had just replied to something he had been thinking, not saying.
The third sign Lan Wangji had that something was wrong was when he woke up shivering from a nightmare where he was being chased by wild dogs. He looked over at Wei Wuxian, who was tossing and turning in his feverish sleep, and gently shook his shoulder. “Wei Ying. Wake up.”
Wei Wuxian woke with a gasp that was half-sob and mumbled, “Baba, help me!”
Lan Wangji, who by now had an inkling that maybe that telepathy spell hadn’t worn all the way off, deliberately thought, There are no dogs here, Wei Ying. You are safe.
Wei Wuxian blinked up at him with teary eyes. “No dogs?” he whimpered.
No dogs, Lan Wangji thought firmly.
“Oh . . . all right,” Wei Wuxian said. His body relaxed and he fell back to sleep.
The rest of the night, Lan Wangji tried desperately to remember the details of that telepathy spell. He had read it once, years ago, and was sure he remembered it correctly. But were there perhaps parts of the description that had been wrong? Now that he was thinking about it, the book hadn’t actually said how long the spell would last. Lan Wangji had figured it probably would be a few hours, or perhaps until one or both of them slept. But it had been at least two days at this point, and the spell was clearly still functioning.
When Wei Wuxian woke again, he was slightly more coherent, although his fever was still very high. Lan Wangji was doing his best to share his remaining spiritual power between them to keep Wei Wuxian stable. He was usually a little more awake after one of the transfusions, although he was still very weak. Lan Wangji knew things were not going to get better from here, as they went even longer without food.
That was at the top of his mind at the moment, because Wei Wuxian could not stop thinking about soup. A very specific soup, one his sister made. He was thinking that when he got home, he was going to ask her to make a pot so big that he could swim in it. What was the point of that, Lan Wangji wondered. Why would anyone want to swim in soup?
“It’s so I can taste it with every inch of my body,” Wei Wuxian said.
That didn’t even make sense. Taste buds were only in one’s mouth.
“It does so make sense. It . . .” Wei Wuxian’s voice trailed off. Wait. Is he talking out loud or am I hearing what he’s thinking? Or am I hallucinating? I know the fever is high but is it that high? Wait, was I actually thinking about swimming in soup? What a waste of soup that would be! It’s not like I would want to eat it after my disgusting feet had been in it. I would -
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can you . . . just stop, for a second?”
Wei Wuxian blinked at him. Stop? Stop what? Stop thinking? Can I just stop thinking? . . . nope, I’m still thinking. Can he just stop thinking? Is that why he is the way he is? Is his mind actually empty most of the time and occasionally from the depths a thought emerges and -
Lan Wangji looked at the ceiling and prayed for patience. “The spell I used to link our minds is still active,” he said. “Meditate on conserving your energy.”
“Oh . . . all right,” Wei Wuxian said. He leaned back against the wall, folding his arms around the sword that he still wouldn’t let go of for some reason that Lan Wangji wasn’t sure of. That isn’t how I thought that spell would work. Weren’t we supposed to be able to just direct thoughts at each other? Can he hear everything I think? What a horrifying idea! Even I don’t like hearing everything that I think. And why can’t I hear him think? Does he really, genuinely, not have any thoughts in his head at all? Oh, wait, there was one. Rude, Lan Zhan! To think about drowning me after everything we’ve gone through together. I can’t help how much I think!
Lan Wangji shook his head. For some reason, he was remembering that day in the library, watching Wei Wuxian squirm in his seat as he attempted to copy the disciplines, seeming physically unable to sit still after an hour had gone by.
You think so differently from me, Lan Zhan, Wei Wuxian realized. It’s not that you don’t think, but you think in images, memories, whole concepts. You don’t chat with yourself the way I do. I wonder which one of us is the strange one?
“You’re not meditating,” Lan Wangji said.
“No,” Wei Wuxian admitted.
“Recite the Lan disciplines,” Lan Wangji said, and then added, “I know that you know them.”
Wei Wuxian chuckled. “Okay.” He cleared his scratchy throat. “Thou shall not kill, fight, or lech. Thou shall not shout, wander at night, or sprint. Thou shall not bully the weak by being strong or tease others. Thou shall not breach laws. Thou shall not skip class, or leave early.” Unless the teacher throws you out, I guess . . . I still don’t see why what I suggested was so bad. I still wonder if you could do it, though. What’s so wrong with the concept of using resentful energy? It’s -
“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said, annoyed. How can he recite them out loud but think something entirely different even while still reciting?
“Just talent,” Wei Wuxian said, grinning. He saw Lan Wangji’s face and the grin slipped away. Ah, I’m bothering him, aren’t I? I know it must be awful to be stuck here in this cave with me. He’d probably be a lot happier if he were here by himself. He could just meditate and wait for the time to pass until someone came to get him. Instead he’s trapped with me and if that wasn’t bad enough, with all my strange thoughts . . .
Lan Wangji wondered how somebody so smart could still be so stupid. As if Lan Wangji wanted to be alone. As if it could possibly be better to be somewhere without Wei Wuxian.
There was a moment of silence, and Lan Wangji realized that Wei Wuxian genuinely had stopped thinking for the briefest of seconds. It seemed to be out of shock. He remembered, belatedly, that Wei Wuxian could hear him as much as he could hear Wei Wuxian. His cheeks flushed pink.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian said carefully, “you like being with me?”
He was such an idiot, but he wasn’t an idiot, and that realization was the worst of all. Because Lan Wangji had no idea how to express his emotions, because even when he liked someone he didn’t know how to show it, because he had left Wei Wuxian behind in the Unclean Realm and refused to let Wei Wuxian carry him when his leg was hurt, because honestly, why should Wei Wuxian have any idea how he felt? One stolen glance while they lit lanterns wasn’t a confession. One shout after Wei Wuxian was pushed off a cliff by Wen Chao wasn’t a confession.
“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian said, and although his tone was awed, almost reverent, his thoughts were a mess of confusion and joy. He likes me? Like actually? Does he think I’m pretty? Are Lan clan members allowed to think other people are pretty? Would he let me touch his forehead ribbon now? I mean I already touched it but it wasn’t just because, it was for reasons. Ugh, I’m thinking too much again! He’s gonna get mad! Is he gonna get mad? Does he like the way I think, too? I mean I can’t imagine why he would but if he likes being with me then maybe my thoughts aren’t so awful to him after all -
Lan Wangji couldn’t take it anymore. He needed Wei Wuxian to stop. Without even realizing what he was going to do, he pushed his mouth against Wei Wuxian’s.
It worked. There was another moment of that beautifully stunned silence.
It lasted about three seconds.
Oh shit I died, didn’t I? I died fighting Xuanwu and now I’m in Heaven. Only if I were in Heaven, would I be trapped in a cave? That doesn’t seem right. But if I was in Hell, I don’t think Lan Zhan would be kissing me.
“Be quiet,” Lan Wangji ordered, and kissed him again. Wei Wuxian wasn’t, but at least his thoughts now seemed to revolve more around the kiss itself, how nice it was, how soft Lan Wangji’s lips were, how it made his whole body shiver a bit. He reached up, and Lan Wangji heard the thought form but didn’t stop him, and Wei Wuxian traced his fingers over the ribbon, and they kissed until they both ran out of breath.
When Lan Wangji finally pulled away, Wei Wuxian’s eyes were a little glassy. “I’m so warm,” he said.
“It’s the fever.” Lan Wangji pressed him back against the wall. “You need to sleep.”
“Mn,” Wei Wuxian said, an exaggerated imitation of Lan Wangji, and then laughed. Lan Wangji shook his head and covered Wei Wuxian with his outer robe. A few minutes later, he was asleep, and Lan Wangji was finally left alone with his thoughts.
~ ~ ~ ~
There were no more kisses. By that evening, Wei Wuxian’s fever was too high for him to be coherent, and Lan Wangji was running too low on spiritual energy to pass him much more. Although some disjointed thoughts still passed between them, they usually focused on their predicament, their fears, their exhaustion.
They had been in the cave for seven days when Lan Wangji heard noise above them. Just the noise of digging and moving rocks at first, but then a voice. “Wei Wuxian! Hanguang-Jun! Can you hear me?”
It was Jiang Cheng. Lan Wangji called back that they were there. A few minutes later, ropes were being tossed down the cliffside. Men from both the Jin and the Jiang sects came down and helped them up. Lan Wangji climbed up on his own; Wei Wuxian had to be carried. He did not rouse even once outside, with the fresh air on his face, with Jiang Cheng crouched beside him, carefully squeezing a rag into his mouth.
“You two really killed that thing,” Jin Zixuan said, clearly impressed despite himself, and Lan Wangji nodded.
“Where’d this sword come from?” Jiang Cheng asked, frowning. He tried to pull it out of Wei Wuxian’s arms, but he mumbled something and clutched at it tighter.
“He found it inside Xuanwu,” Lan Wangji said. “It seems to have some power to it, and he didn’t want to let it go.”
“Inside the - never mind, don’t tell me,” Jiang Cheng said. He shook his head and said crossly to Wei Wuxian’s unconscious body, “I leave you alone for a week and you go inside a murder turtle. Typical.”
Lan Wangji studied Wei Wuxian’s sleeping face, torn. He needed to get back to Cloud Recesses as soon as possible. His concern for his brother was preoccupying much of his thoughts. But what would Wei Wuxian think if he left him there without saying goodbye? He had spent enough time with Wei Wuxian’s thoughts by now to know how easily he would interpret that as abandonment. Or worse, he might think that all of his memories from the cave were just feverish hallucinations - or not remember any of it at all. It was hard to gauge whether or not the spell was still connecting them, with Wei Wuxian so ill.
Apparently it was, and his thoughts were so loud that Wei Wuxian stirred. “Lan Zhan,” he murmured, squeezing his wrist. “Go. Find . . . Zewu . . .” He passed out again without finishing his sentence.
Lan Wangji nodded and stood. “I have to get back to Cloud Recesses,” he said. “Thank you for your assistance. Please take care of Wei Ying.”
Jiang Cheng bowed. “Thank you for keeping him alive so long.”
Lan Wangji bowed to him and then to Jin Zixuan, who also bowed, before he turned and hurried back towards home.
~ ~ ~ ~
Wei Wuxian’s first thought upon waking was that his head hurt, and he was confused and didn’t like it, and now that he was thinking about it, his chest hurt, too. Then he saw Jin Zixuan and his thoughts crystallized into, Him? HIM???
Already five miles away, Lan Wangji nearly tripped over his own feet at the sudden intrusion back into his mind. Wei Ying? Are we still connected?
Where are you? Wei Wuxian thought, and then his chest and head flooded with more pain as he tried to sit up, and Jin Zixuan hurried towards him, ugh. In the confusion and pain, he missed Lan Wangji’s answer.
“If you’re awake, get up already,” Jin Zixuan said, and Wei Wuxian fought the urge to say something childish, winning mainly because he was too tired to think of something clever. Jin Zixuan had to hurry onwards to explain that it wasn’t like he wanted to rescue Wei Wuxian, it was just that the Wen clan’s behavior was unacceptable and he was helping Jiang Cheng (who he clearly found much less obnoxious) and Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian dizzily watched his mouth move and make words and wondered if he had more than one facial expression.
Wei Ying, Lan Wangji said again. You should thank him. He helped rescue us.
Yeah, yeah, Wei Wuxian said, but did so, because Lan Wangji was right. And honestly he found Jin Zixuan a lot less annoying now that he wasn’t engaged to his sister. Then Jiang Cheng was jogging down the hill, and his somewhat harsh words about why Wei Wuxian shouldn’t play the hero were offset by his gentle touches and the worry on his face. Should you really have left? You’re still injured.
I needed to get back to Cloud Recesses, Lan Wangji said.
Wei Wuxian just sighed. He couldn’t say that he would have done any different in Lan Wangji’s shoes, but still. His memories of what had happened in the cave were fuzzy, but the fact that Lan Wangji could still talk to him even while miles away made him think that they weren’t just a fever dream. Carefully, experimentally, he thought, But I’m gonna miss your face.
Wei Ying! Lan Wangji responded. It wasn’t so much a thought as a burst of emotion, annoyance and embarrassment and smothered longing. Then he seemed to gather himself and say, We will see each other soon, I am sure. But right now, both our clans need us.
“Are you listening to me?” Jiang Cheng asked, sounding a little annoyed.
“Yes, of course, sorry, I just . . .” Wei Wuxian lifted a hand to rub his face, then saw that his palms and fingers were still bloody. From holding the sword, he realized. He rubbed the back of his hand over his face instead. “Head’s all . . . full.”
Jiang Cheng snorted. “Why do I find that unlikely.”
“Ha ha,” Wei Wuxian said, and began to stagger to his feet. Jiang Cheng got a hand underneath his elbow and helped him up so he could bow properly to Jin Zixuan and thank him for his assistance. A few minutes later, their groups had separated and he was hobbling back towards Yunmeng.
How long is this spell meant to last? Wei Wuxian asked Lan Wangji.
I don’t know, Lan Wangji admitted. He didn’t think any further direct thoughts at Wei Wuxian, but Wei Wuxian could hear his cloud of considerations. He had only read the spell one time, and genuinely couldn’t recall if it had mentioned a length or duration. He had figured it would be a few hours at most. But it had been nearly a week. What if it was permanent? Surely the book would have said if it was permanent. Had he performed it incorrectly? He didn’t think so. Was there something different about himself and Wei Wuxian, that it worked differently for them than it did for others?
Ah, this time you’re thinking too much, Wei Wuxian chided. You’re making my head spin and the pain is already bad enough.
I apologize, Lan Wangji said, and began internally reciting the Lan disciplines.
That’s even worse! Just . . . just think gentle thoughts at me, like you were in the cave.
Bafflement met this. How was a thought supposed to be gentle? How had he been thinking in the cave? Was it really so different? Had Wei Wuxian been less sensitive to it then? Now that they’d had food and water and some of their spiritual power was returning, was the bond going to get even stronger? What would that be like?
Ah, I’m sorry I ever thought you didn’t have thoughts, Wei Wuxian said. Your head is stuffed with them as much as mine.
What should I think about, then? Lan Wangji wondered.
Wei Wuxian couldn’t keep a slight grin off his face, glad that Jiang Cheng was leading the way and not looking at him. Think about kissing me.
Five miles away, Lan Wangji walked into a tree.
~ ~ ~ ~
The spell didn’t wear off, and by the time Lan Wangji made it back to Cloud Recesses, both of them were somewhat used to it. Lan Wangji was getting better at tuning out the random thoughts that drifted across the surface of Wei Wuxian’s mind like leaves on a river. While traveling, his idle thoughts were actually somewhat pleasant, commentary on the scenery and the weather and other unimportant nonsense. It was like having him still there, chattering in the background.
Cloud Recesses was far less of a disaster now than it had been when Wen Xu had dragged him away. The Lan sect was nothing if not diligent, and had set about making repairs and setting up temporary buildings with alacrity. The burned buildings had already been demolished and they had sorted out which books could be saved, which were too damaged to be saved but still legible enough to recopy, and those which were gone completely.
Lan Wangji found Lan Qiren in the hanshi. He was still injured, but there was more color in his face and he looked to be recovering well. “Xiongzhang?” Lan Wangji asked immediately.
Lan Qiren shook his head. “Still no sign of him.”
“Mn,” Lan Wangji said, doing his best to contain his inner distress over this.
Apparently he didn’t do a very good job, because Wei Wuxian was immediately in the back of his head, trying to reassure him. He’s probably hiding somewhere, if he’s not sure if it’s safe to come back yet.
If they had been together, speaking out loud, Lan Wangji would have given that another ‘mn’. As it was, he instead somehow managed to respond, But it’s been two entire weeks. He should be back by now. Even if he was injured, if he wanted to hide somewhere, or if he wasn’t sure if it would be safe to return, he should be back. You didn’t see the forces that came here -
He didn’t mean to broadcast an entire vivid flashback of the Wens’ attack on Cloud Recesses, didn’t mean to relive the memories he had been trying to tamp down, but that was apparently what he did. The next thing he knew, Wei Wuxian was dealing with an extremely concerned Jiang Cheng wanting to know why he had stumbled and fallen like that. Had his fever returned? (It had never truly gone away.) Did he need to rest? (Pretty much always.) They weren’t far from the next town, could he make it? (Of course he could.)
With a pang of guilt, Lan Wangji accepted that he was going to have to ask some uncomfortable questions. “Shufu,” he said, “are you familiar with the spell of silent communication?”
Lan Qiren nodded, because there wasn’t a spell in the entire Lan sect’s library that he was unfamiliar with. “Why do you ask?”
“I’m concerned it might have . . . aftereffects,” Lan Wangji said.
Lan Qiren’s frown deepened. He waved for Lan Wangji to sit down, which he did, and poured them both some tea. “How so?”
“I used it when Wei Ying and I fought Xuanwu,” Lan Wangji said, deliberately not looking at his uncle because he absolutely did not want to know how he would react to that. “It had exceptional hearing but its other senses were weak. However, over a week has passed since then and the link is still active.”
“Even now?” Lan Qiren was clearly surprised, stroking his beard. “With Wei Wuxian so far away?”
“Yes. The physical distance does not seem to have affected the link at all.”
“Hm. Well, to answer your first question, no, that is not the typical effect of the spell. It would normally fade within twenty-four hours.”
“Did I somehow perform it incorrectly?” Lan Wangji asked, ignoring Wei Wuxian’s doubt in the back of his mind that the great Hanguang-Jun could do so.
“I can’t think of a mistake that you could have made that would cause this effect,” Lan Qiren said. “If you had done it incorrectly, it wouldn’t have worked at all. I would have to do some further research before I could say for certain. Unfortunately . . .”
They both moodily glanced outside at the remnants of their once pristine home. Lan Wangji said, “I will begin helping mend the books.”
You’re not going to look for your brother? Wei Wuxian asked, clearly startled.
Look where? Lan Wangji asked. The enormity of the idea daunted him. It had been two weeks. Lan Xichen could have been anywhere in the world by now. The disciples had already combed the surrounding area. How far was he supposed to go?
He half-expected Wei Wuxian would think less of him for this, but all Wei Wuxian said was, I wish I could be there, helping you.
Lan Wangji wished he could be there, too, but then tried not to wish for that, afraid that Wei Wuxian would hear and turn around to come to Gusu, despite the fact that he needed to go back to Yunmeng. The messy jumble of thoughts that followed cascaded across the gap between them, and Wei Wuxian winced. Ah, Lan Zhan, you can’t take back a thought after you’ve thought it! Don’t be so hard on yourself. You said it yourself; we’ll see each other again soon. I need to get home to shijie and Jiang-shushu right now. They must be as worried about me as you are about Zewu-Jun. As soon as I’ve settled things there, I will come help you search for your brother. Okay?
Mn, Lan Wangji thought, loudly and deliberately, and was rewarded with a ripple of laughter.
~ ~ ~ ~