"Wei Ying."
The helpless longing in Wangji's voice was painful to hear and Lan Xichen closed his eyes for a moment to escape the brutal reality of his brother's suffering. Why could he not even in feverish sleep be released from his endless torment?
He wished he could offer some comfort - a reassurance that Wei Wuxian had only stepped away for a moment and would soon be back - but at the same time he wanted to ask Wangji why he still hadn't given up on calling for his lost love. It had been so long, almost nine years by now. How could the shadow of the Yiling Patriarch still haunt him so much?
"Shh," he said instead of all the things tangled up in his mind. "Rest now, Wangji. You'll feel better in the morning."
He hoped so, at least. While Wangji had come back in terrible conditions before it had rarely been as serious as it was now. The blood loss alone would have killed most other cultivators long before they had reached the Cloud Recesses and only Wangji's incredible strength, combined with his even more formidable stubbornness, had kept him alive until he could receive the help he needed.
Lan Xichen tried to find comfort in the fact the he always tried - and actually managed - to make it back home, no matter how seriously injured he was. It had to mean that, somewhere deep down and almost overshadowed by his obvious wish for death, there was still a spark of stubborn will to live.
That spark must be tended to with the uttermost of devotion and vigilance.
Carefully Lan Xichen shared some more of his spiritual energy - Wangji's body was so depleted that it took it in like a sponge. If he could he would give him everything he was, to try to drive the despair away for good.
Why? he wanted to ask but while it was not a rule of their clan their uncle had always discouraged stupid questions.
He, just like their uncle, knew very well why Wangji was coming back from nighthunts seriously injured at an ever-increasing pace. Sizhui was a beloved and fully accepted member of their family by now and ever since he had left the Jingshi Wangji had taken on his new hobby of trying to kill himself while still adhering on the tenets of their clan.
"Wei Ying," Wangji said again and this time the helpless longing was replaced with a slight smile. "I missed you."
Lan Xichen hadn't seen his brother smile while he was conscious since the day Sizhui had first managed to balance himself alone on his sword, and even then it hadn't been such a sweet expression as it was right now.
The words, as well as the smile, sent a shiver through Lan Xichen. They sounded like they came from a place far beyond and he had the sudden, irrational fear that Wei Wuxian's ghost was here to take Wangji away from him.
You can't have him!
In his terror he pushed even more of his own severely depleted spiritual energy into Wangji's body, in the hope to drive death away one more time.
Wangji had lost his heart to the worst person possible but Lan Xichen didn't have it in him to hate Wei Wuxian for it. Hadn't he, himself, done more than his fair share in pushing those two together? If he really hadn't wanted it Wangji would never have permitted it. Neither Lan Xichen's meddling nor Wei Wuxian's childish yet somehow adorable overtures of friendship.
No. Wangji had chosen the man himself, just like he had chosen to punish himself long after his official punishment was over.
Lan Xichen still didn't know if Wangji knew what he was actually doing or not, and he was too afraid of the possible answers to ask, even if their relationship would have permitted intimate questions like that.
There had once been a time where they had shared everything and when talking even about highly personal things was acceptable between them.
But, ever since Wei Wuxian's death and his whipping, followed by seclusion, Wangji had withdrawn, even from him. He had emerged from his seclusion closed off from everyone and devoted himself to regaining his full strength, raising his adopted son, and trying to find whichever traces for Wei Wuxian remained in the world, while going to help where no other cultivator would ever dare to go.
Nobody else knew what was really going on behind that inscrutable expression of his, not even Lan Xichen or their uncle, the two people who arguably knew him best.
"Take me with you," Wangji whispered now. He reached out with his right hand, searching for someone who couldn't reach back.
Instead, Lan Xichen caught his hand and clasped it tightly.
"Stay," he begged, deliberately ignoring the true meaning of Wangji's plea. "Stay with us. There are still people who love you and need you in their lives, Wangji."
Wangji's skin was too warm and dry from his fever but his grip was as brutally tight as ever. Despite the most dire of predictions he had regained all of his fighting capabilities following his punishment, and his regular playing of the guqin, which had once threatened to destroy his hands for good, had only made them stronger instead.
Lan Xichen longed for the day where another song than Inquiry would be played by him again but his hope waned as the years passed with no lessening of the grief Wangji carried within his heart.
"I'm here for you," he promised. He wasn't the one Wangji wanted, but he was the only one who was able and willing to bear the full burden of Wangji's descent into self-destruction. He had sent Sizhui away to be with his grand-uncle the moment it had become clear that Wangji would, once again, survive one of the brutal night-hunts he liked to take on alone. The boy hadn't wanted to go but was too well-behaved to put up more than most token of protests. Lan Xichen had promised him to send for him the moment Wangji regained full consciousness and that he would be allowed to care for Wangji during his recovery.
In truth, he didn't want Sizhui to hear his father call out for the ghost of a man he couldn't remember. It would invite too many questions he was unqualified to answer. The topic of Wei Wuxian was Wangji's and Wangji's alone to share whenever he deemed his son old enough for it.
Lan Xichen didn't even know if the two of them had ever taken the last step to become lovers or if Wangji had never experienced the pleasure of being fully joined with his soulmate. Just one of the many secrets Wangji had kept safely locked away inside of himself for almost a decade by now and Lan Xichen couldn't decide which option was worse.
"Wei Ying is the only one I will ever love," Wangji had said, once, after yet another horrific injury that had nearly cost him his life and added a deep scar to his left hip.
There was no denying the absolute truth of the words. Wangji was very capable of love for his family, as he had demonstrated over and over again, but romantic love? No, Lan Xichen couldn't see him fall like he did for Wei Wuxian for a second time. Lans, as it was well known, tended to love only once, after all.
That had been the extent of what he had been willing to share and Lan Xichen, heartbroken over Mingjue's loss at the time, hadn't dared to ask for more.
But he had healed from that, as far as that was possible, while Wangji's heart was still as broken as it had been the day Wei Wuxian fell from that damn cliff. Wangji had been in a fugue state of grief, loss and soul searing agony since that moment - Lan Xichen still wasn't sure if he even truly remembered his punishment.
The memory of the emptiness in Wangji's eyes scared him until this day and he knew very well that without the responsibility of a little child needing him he would have lost his brother that day.
He wanted to hate Wei Wuxian but he had also left behind the only reason Wangji hadn't followed him into death. For that alone he would be forever grateful to the most reviled man of their time.
"A-Huan."
The unfamiliar address, unused for so long, pulled him out of his contemplations. He looked up and found Wangji awake.
"A-Zhan," he said back, deliberately using the childhood name Wangji had left behind a long time ago. He couldn't even begin to describe the feelings using it now evoked in him. He missed being A-Huan who was responsible for A-Zhan, he missed his little brother looking up at him with a far too serious expression for his age while clinging to his hand.
Wangji's voice was raspy and his eyes still a little bit unfocused but now he looked up at him with true recognition.
He turned his head, silently taking in the fact that he was in his home, that it was nighttime, and that he had, once again, survived.
The squeezed Lan Xichen's hand before he withdrew to explore the bandages that covered almost all of his upper body.
"Thank you," he said simply.
Lan Xichen had no way to decipher if Wangji truly thanked him for keeping him alive once again or if he had just said it out of obligation. He choose to take the words at face value and forced a smile onto his face as he let his hands drop into his lap. His spiritual energy was almost depleted and he was so tired he wanted nothing more than to curl up next to Wangji to sleep.
He forced the urge away. It was unseemly and he would be unwelcome anyway.
"Of course. I'll always be here for you." He couldn't put the offer into plainer words. He was willing to help, to listen, and to support Wangji.
Wangji was the one who had to take him up on it.
Lan Xichen only hoped that that day would come before Wangji managed to kill himself during a nighthunt.
As if he could feel some of Lan Xichen's turmoil Wangji held out his hand in a silent offer. Lan Xichen could barely hold back tears of exhausted gratitude.
They spent the rest of the night in silence, still holding on to each other, waiting for the morning sun to burn away the echo of the name only Wangji ever dared to speak out loud within the Cloud Recesses.