Chapter Text
“Please don’t die, don’t die. Ge, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Ge…”, he mouthed again and again, unable to make a sound. There was warm blood against his shaky fingers, and his grip kept slipping against the never-ending flow. His long sleeves were soaked, but he was worried by how fast the cloud pattern of the other man’s robes was turning crimson, leaving a dark puddle on the floor. He raised his face to look at the open door, waiting for someone to arrive, but he was alone.
“...lp!” He tried to scream, but only a broken sound escaped his throat. He tried again and again, gasping, desperate. He hadn’t stopped lending his spiritual energy to the man in his arms, he didn’t know how much time had passed, but he was now struggling to keep the weak flow of energy from breaking.
The blood slowed down, but he couldn’t feel a heartbeat under his fingers anymore, couldn’t see the weak rise and low of his chest. He tried to see his face, to look at his eyes, but everything was fuzzy. Even then, the bright wound was clear in his vision, as if it stared at him accusingly.
“Xichen, ” he sobbed, “Xichen, wake up. Don’t do this to me. Please don’t do this to me, don’t leave me. Ge, I’m sorry. It’s my fault, it’s only my fault, please don’t—”
“Was it worth it?”, a man was leaning on the door frame, not looking at him, his voice lacking the hot anger that always permeated his tone, with only coldness left behind.
“Jiang Cheng, I…” he trailed off in a broken whisper.
“You made this,” Jiang Cheng said calmly.
Huaisang shook his head, a lump in his throat, “I didn’t want this.”
“Even then,” the man finally looked at him with indifference, “look at what you’ve done.”
He shook his head, hot tears streaming down his cheeks, the lump in his throat impossibly tight.
“Nie Huaisang, what have you done?!” the usual rage came back to his violet eyes, Zidian sparkling on his finger.
He instinctively hugged the body on his lap close to his chest, but where he expected the weight of a head, there was nothing. He looked down, and instead of white and crimson robes he found green and yellow, a headless body on his arms.
He screamed in agony.
“Huaisang,” a voice called, but he was still screaming. “Huaisang!”, the voice insisted, and a gentle hand shook his shoulder.
He gasped, trying desperately to get air in his lungs, his eyes darting everywhere unable to focus on anything. He was sitting, clutching something soft on his hands against his chest, panting harshly.
“A-Sang”, the same voice from before whispered, probably trying not to startle him.
He knew that voice. He knew that voice, he had treasured it deep in his heart, he…
He broke in sobs.
Someone was sitting on the edge of the bed, his brows furrowed with worry. He was young, way younger than the last time Huaisang had last seen him, not more than thirteen years old.
“Are you alright? You were… you were having a nightmare,” the teenager whispered in the darkness, his hand stretched as if he was trying to decide if he should reach for him or not.
Nie Huaisang made the choice for him.
“Da-Ge,” he sobbed, wrapping his arms strongly around his brother, hiding his face in the crook of his neck, soon feeling arms circling his own small frame.
“It’s ok, it was just a dream,” Nie Mingjue was rubbing circles on his back, trying to soothe him. But Huaisang could only take shuddering breaths and cry.
How could he stop? It had been a lifetime, so long, since he was able to hug his brother like this. Too long, since he had last seen him alive. Too long, since he hadn’t felt alone.
But he had made it. He was back.
“A-Sang, are you…? I’ve never seen you like this. You were… you were screaming,” he felt his brother bring him closer. “Do you want to talk about it?” Huaisang shook his head. “Should I call for one of the maid—”
“Stay,” he found himself saying, too scared of this being a dream, too scared ‘to go back’. His brother seemed to ponder his request. If he was right, Mingjue had gotten a room of his own just a year ago. They had stopped sleeping together at night, when Nie Huaisang crawled onto his bed as he tried to run from his nightmares, ever more constant since his mother’s departure.
But Huaisang should know, his brother would try anything to protect him.
“I’ll stay.”
He had checked the date three times by now, after he convinced his still very concerned —not that he would blame him, he nearly burst into tears in the morning again — brother to go on his morning training, skipping it himself with the excuse of having had a very bad night.
Nie Huaisang was now sure he was eight years old again. He didn’t have to think much about why he was that age, he was fairly certain this had been when Wei Wuxian had been found by Jiang Fengmian.
If only he had asked what Wei Wuxian had in mind so he could add it to his own agenda.
To be fair, he had initially wanted for him to go back, instead of himself. But when he thought about the tendency to self sacrifice the other man had, he knew he couldn’t allow him to do so. He wouldn’t allow him to suffer so much ever again, not mentioning Huaisang wouldn’t be certain if his brother would survive this time had his memory and time been taken as a payment for the array, as everyone else’s. And that moment where Wei Wuxian caught him using the array himself… well, the man had looked like he wasn’t that sure of going back anymore.
But it was fine. It would be fine, he had time. And knowledge. And—
“Mingqin!”
—still eight years old.
He quickly slid from the medium rock he was sitting on and brushed his robes as he saw the man approaching him. Huaisang attempted to bow but seeing the man made him almost tear up again, so it ended up being rather clumsy.
“A-Die,” he greeted, opting to stare at the floor instead of at his father. He hadn’t thought he would see Nie Zhuang so soon. He hadn’t been called by his birth name since… well, since he died.
“A-Ming, I understand you had a bad night, and I’m willing to overlook you skipping training this time,” he said with a stern voice. “But you can’t just disappear right before going to Cloud Recesses.” Huaisang bowed lower this time, still not meeting his father’s eyes.
“I’m sorry, A-Die. I forgot,” He felt his father’s hands on his arms, bringing him up. Nie Huaisang looked at his shoes and heard him sigh.
“It 's ok, but we have to go now,” his father’s voice isn’t gentle. He has a deep voice, much like his Da-Ge’s, but there is a gentleness in his actions and his words.
“Yes,” he finds himself answering. Nie Zhuang takes a couple of steps away and he follows.
“A-Ming,” both of them stopped. “You haven’t looked at me.”
He knew what his father wanted without him telling him. He carefully raised his gaze from Nie Zhuang’s shoes and slowly looked up, breathing deeply and slowly. But by the time his gaze reached his face he could feel the tears in his eyes and a lump in his throat. Kids don’t have a reign of their emotions, he knows this. He doesn’t feel like an eight year old but he doesn’t quite feel like the adult he once was. Not even with all the knowledge, experience and regrets he has.
Nie Huaisang gets the first hug from his father in what feels like an eternity, and he crumbles.
“That bad?” Huaisang nods against Nie Zhuang’s middle, his broken sobs filling the air. “I thought A-Jue had been exaggerating. I see that’s not the case.” He could feel the man stroking his hair soothingly until he was able to breathe again.
Huaisang would be ashamed of the amount of crying he had done in less than a day, but he had spent many, many years faking his tears that being able to do so genuinely, not alone in his room, not in the arms of Guangyao and Xichen, was… relieving. Besides, it wasn’t as if he could help it, at least, not when it involved his family.
“Ready to go?”Nie Zhuang asked, his hand still on his son’s head.
And like that, he was on his way. He wasn’t going to let his age stop him, he had a clear goal in mind, and he wasn’t willing to let it go. This trip couldn’t have a more perfect timing. If he wanted to keep the ones he loved alive, he already knew what was the first thing he had to do.
He had to befriend Lan Wangji.