Work Text:
The storm was not unexpected. The dark clouds had been hanging low over the peaks of Cloud Recesses when the sun had risen, rinsing the morning light with gray and turning it washed out and cold. The wind had risen steadily through the day, pushing the clouds down the mountains until they'd finally broken in a torrential downpour, complete with the arc of lightning dancing from peak to peak and the low, constant roll of thunder.
Lan Wangji had been uneasy all day. He did not like the weather. Storms had always bothered him, even as a child. He had never outgrown it, but had learned to put the childish fear and unease away over the years until—
'No,' he whispered harshly into the silence of the Jingshi, to no one in particular because he was alone right now with his mountain of correspondence. Wei Ying was still in a meeting with Lan Qiren, a progress report on the advanced talisman class he had created for the higher level juniors, and Lan Xichen had practically forced him from the office before the storm broke, siting his younger brother's increasing bouts of inattention and frowning at the particularly telling cant of Lan Wangji's hips as he sat stiffly at his desk.
He did hurt. Bad weather always brought him pain, but it was nothing to which he was not accustomed after all these years. It was only that the pervasive sense of unease was making it harder for him to focus and disguise the pain, and Lan Xichen picked up on that. Of course, he did. Lan Xichen had always been particularly conscious of others discomfort and none more so than the little brother he held most dear. Lan Wangji appreciated the concern but wondered wryly if it would not have been less distracting in the end to stay in the office.
A particularly fearsome gust of wind slammed into the Jingshi and rattled the screens. Lan Wangji winced, both at the unexpected noise and the chill draft that gusted inside. Were he any less well trained, he would have cursed under his breath, but as it was, he merely let out a forceful exhale through flared nostrils and swept his sleeve back once more to continue writing. He was certain it had not been his brother's intent that he bring his work home with him, but with Wei Ying still otherwise engaged, and the storm bearing down and befouling Lan Wangji's already pensive mood, he'd sought safe harbor and distraction in attempting to finish the day's missives.
Another blast of wind rocked the Jingshi, and Lan Wangji startled so badly his brush slipped across the parchment. He ground his teeth in frustration and pulled a fresh sheet from the pile to begin anew when the whole room was suddenly washed blinding white with a flash of lightning, and the following thunderclap was so loud it sounded as if it was directly focused over the Jingshi. His heart stuttered, skipped, and set to pounding in his chest. The brilliant flash left afterimages of unnatural shadows crawling in the corners of the room, and Lan Wangji blinked fiercely to dispel them.
It did no good.
'Enough,' he rasped, and unfolded himself from the table, straightening resolutely.
He strode to the rear screen, still rattling in its frame, leading out to the veranda and threw it wide.
Rain pelted his face immediately, and he gasped at the icy sting. He shivered, full-body, and stared out at the premature darkness. It was not complete, not so thorough or as impenetrable as that night, but it was enough to steal the air from his lungs regardless.
The phantom snorts of nervous horses stamping their feet in squelching mud whispered at the edge of his hearing.
If I have to fight them...
Lan Wangji's hand spasmed around a sword he was not holding, and his eyes burned with more than the sting of the frigid rain.
'Wei Ying...'
His intent had been to face the unsettling storm head-on and prove to himself the baselessness of this disquiet he had felt all day. But the pelting rain coming down in unrelenting sheets turned the world gray and so hazy that, for one terrifying moment, Lan Wangji was not sure where he was.
Water cascaded over rock and rushed in artificial little rivers down previously dry crevasses and ravines. He could smell mud. And blood. The stench of fear was suddenly heavy in his nostrils, and he could barely breathe. Lightning tore the sky and thunder crashed, making the ground and the whole house tremble.
Dying by your hand would be worth it...
The memory of that dreadful night swamped him, overwhelmed his senses, and he took a step forward into the driving rain. And then another. Because he had not before, and it was still the greatest regret of his life.
He turned his face up and hot rivulets of tears ran down his cheeks with the freezing rain. He didn't know how long he stood there, awash in the pain of that old memory, but it was long enough his robes were soaked through and clinging to his skin, and his hands were so chilled that Wei Ying's felt like a hot brand when he threaded their fingers together and held tightly. Lan Wangji shivered at the touch but squeezed back hard.
'Lan Zhan, come inside.'
Wei Ying's voice was gentle with teasing admonishment, only loud enough to be heard over the woeful moan of the wind, but it was worried, too. Still, Lan Wangji could not bring himself to move. The memory still held him in its sway, and he was well and truly mired in it.
'Lan Zhan,' Wei Ying said again with more urgency now, and he clasped Lan Wangji’s hand in both his own and tugged lightly, back toward the door, to the warmth and safety of their home, Away from the storm and the pain it wrought, Lan Wangji swayed slightly and shivered again, finally turned his head and blinked slowly.
'Wei Ying,' he murmured, and sighed as the heat of Wei Ying's touch suffused him and chased at the cold ache of memory, trying to drive it away. 'You are home.'
Wei Ying smiled, lopsided and still edged with worry, but nothing like the grimace of anguish from all those years ago that had invaded Lan Wangji's mind's eye.
'I am, and only to find you in the rain, thoroughly soaked,' he said, his tone still teasing, forcefully light, even as he searched Lan Wangji's gaze for some reason as to his strange actions. His smile tilted toward mischievous, and he made another attempt to leaven the mood. 'Or was this your cunning plan to have an excuse to join me in a hot bath?'
Lan Wangji recognized the humor in the question and its intent to ground him in the moment, but the hollow cold had not quite left him yet, and his tears still mingled with the rain. He turned more fully to Wei Ying, left his expression open as he so rarely did for anyone else, and saw the moment his husband perceived all his unearthed pain and regret.
'Let's go inside, Lan Zhan,' Wei Ying urged again even more softly because, though there was still confusion in his eyes, he was aware now that something was deeply troubling his husband and careful handling was needed. He touched Lan Wangji's cheek, found the tracks of his tears unerringly amid the rain to thumb them away, and then kissed his temple.
'Wei Ying,' Lan Wangji rasped, caught on a sharp sob he refused to give voice, 'You are here.'
'Of course I am.' Wei Ying cradled his jaw tenderly, still thumbing away tears. 'Where else should I be?'
Lan Wangji trembled at the words, at the terrifying possibilities that could have answered that question, and at the precarious fate-defying plan that did answer it. To put Wei Ying here. Now. With him.
He swayed again under the realization. Wei Ying opened his arms and Lan Wangji fled into the offered embrace, clinging to the solid, real, form of his husband; warm blood and sinew and bone beneath his hands; a slightly unsteady heartbeat owing to his own confusion and concern; and blessed breath sucked in on a surprised inhale.
'Let's get inside,' Wei Ying whispered, and Lan Wangji finally allowed himself to be led in out of the storm.