( perhaps he should have noticed sooner, the squinting, the way jiang cheng's eyes go unfocused when he isn't deliberately glaring at something. it all registered to wei ying as part of this prevailing distress he's found the man in, but he realizes now that he was entirely wrong.
because now jiang cheng has dropped to his knees, and though both hands reach for wei wuxian, they do so with no concept whatsoever of how far to reach or where. and that in itself has his eyes burning again, tears trickling out from the corners this time as he wastes precisely no time in scooting across the remaining space between them. jiang cheng might feel knees pressing up to one side of his so they're close enough for wei ying to guide the searching hands to his shoulders, wrapping his own arms up around the man's shoulders to press their foreheads together in a desperate attempt to ground him even in his blindness. )
They haven't won. They haven't. ( even so quiet as his words may be, there's a stubborn sort of ferocity in that. in his refusal to accept defeat, now that they're fighting this place, these technicians, fate itself instead of one another. his next breath tries to hitch and betray him, but he refuses to allow that either, and instead it comes out only barely unsteady. ) There has to be some way to remember this, when I go back. They say that we can't, but they don't know what we're capable of. I'm going to find a way, and then you're-, you're gone to to tell me what it is that I've done to you - ( fuck, his voice just cracked - jiang cheng almost certainly knows he's crying now, not that he's given time to call him on it. ) - and how I've let harm come to Shijie, and I'm going to take that back to our home and... and avoid it, whatever it takes.
( it's not a concrete plan - it's barely even enough to count as a plan at all - but wei ying will figure the details out as they go. he won't accept failure on this one, he can't. )
But first, ( he says, back to that steady calming tone that got him this far already, ) you're going to take that knife and you're going to cut me on my arms. I'll show you where. And you're not going to argue, because you and I both know that Shijie can't come back and find you like this. ( a beat, and his voice drops quieter. ) It's alright. I won't even feel it. ( funny how such a thing would've taken the satisfaction away from wounding him just minutes ago. )
[ Wei Wuxian is back to making promises that Jiang Cheng wants to believe with all his heart and he clings to him as he nods - agreeing to tell not because he believes he can change anything, because he believes him to honor this promise any more than the others, but simply because he needs to cling to the possibility right now just as much as he needs to cling to the man himself. His fingers dig into Wei Wuxian's shoulder blades and their foreheads are pressed together and he is just so close, his embrace so warm that if everything didn't hurt so much, Jiang Cheng could believe the past years have been nothing but another false memory.
How he wishes he could only remember what Wei Wuxian remembers, to be unbothered by pain and guilt.
Before he can even begin to work through these feelings, Wei Wuxian is again speaking of bleeding himself, or of Jiang Cheng bleeding him. He yanks away, shaking his head. ] I won't! [ he snaps, ] I can't do that. Don't you think I've tried? [ It doesn't stop, the blood only gives momentary relief. And besides... His voice quivers but he inhales sharply and forces out the words anyway. ] It won't change anything between us, even if you do this.
( aha. of course it won't change anything. wei ying definitely hadn't fallen headlong into the stupid naive hope that something might have changed already.
fuck it, he's already crying.
he reaches for wherever jiang cheng has set the knife, reclaiming it even if he only intends to hand it over a second time. ) You haven't tried. Not like this. These little cuts, they just soothe it for a few minutes. But you can make it all stop, completely stop. You just need to draw enough blood at one time.
( but he has to address that last part, otherwise jiang cheng will notice, will possibly say something even worse to drive it home, so, ) I'm not doing this so you'll like me. You can curse every last letter of my name, I just. Want you to be okay. ( and this is how to accomplish that.
so he reaches out to wrap fingers around jiang cheng's right wrist, turning it just enough so the angle is write to slip the knife's handle into it. ) If you won't do this for your own stupid self, do it for Shijie.
[ But he doesn't want to curse him and his name! And he wants to like Wei Wuxian. Even after everything that has happened he desperately wants to like him and there is so much of Jiang Cheng which just wants to cling to him and pretend that these last weeks before being kidnapped had been nothing but another terrible false memory to haunt him. He wants to. He just can't.
So he shudders as the tears keep running down his face and his hands are limp in Wei Ying's grasp when he releases him from the embrace - Jiang Cheng has to stifle a moan of agony, he isn't ready to let him go yet - and forces his fingers to clasp around the knife. ]
I... Wei Wuxian... [ Even his protests are feeble now. Feeble and weak and he wishes he could glare at him at least but there is only black now. Only the feeling of Wei Wuxian’s hands guiding his and a little give to tell him the blade has been positioned against flesh. ] I don't want to [ he chokes out between tears. ] I don't want to do this. [ It's too dangerous. But the screaming is so loud and now that the world is fully dark, the memories are brighter.
Again, he watches a black-clad back as the man laughs while Lotus Pier burns to ashes around him - had it ever burned? But it feels so real he is choking on ash! Yanli lies in his arms bleeding out and then black cracks spread over her face and throat and her eyes open again, clawed hands reaching for his face to shred it into pieces at a flute's command...
Jiang Cheng screams and the knife sinks into flesh. ]
if anyone's thread-stalking, cw: semi-self-mutilation??
( as much as jiang cheng resisted the concept, he hardly fights as wei ying positions the knife along the center of his inner forearm just under the crease inside his elbow. 'i don't want to do this,' jiang cheng all but pleads, and wei wuxian hums out a soothing, ) I know, I know you don't, ( but he has to. he knows that just as well as wei ying does.
and all at once, with a desperate cry, jiang cheng does just as he was told. true to his word, wei ying doesn't so much as flinch - he wasn't lying when he said he wouldn't be able to feel it. luckily he has the presence of mind to draw his arm back, to lengthen the cut without forcing a blind and miserable jiang cheng to do it himself. )
Good, ( he says, his voice sounding odd and hollow as he stares at the blood already dripping from the lengthy gash. quickly he follows up with a steadier-sounding, )Good. One left.
( and the hand attached to the wounded arm takes jiang cheng's wrist again - (he dimly notes that his outer two fingers aren't bending as he's telling them to, but that's a problem for later, not for now) - and positions the knife in the same place on his unwounded arm as well. ) That's it, just one more and this should go away. ( not right away, he doesn't think. soon, but not instantly. it just fades and fades until it's gone. that's what he heard. )
[ He shakes his head. ] It won't. It's never going to get better. You can't... [ You can't bring her back, he wants to say, but as the blood flows out of Wei Ying's wound so the screaming and the muddle of emotions is flowing out of Jiang Cheng. Not gone but a little more bearable, enough that he remembers who he is and where and that he had quietly made the decision to himself that he wouldn't tell Wei Wuxian. So he presses his lips together and sniffles miserably. ] It won't. [ His voice is just as small as he feels.
But it isn't over yet, Wei Wuxian is still prodding at him, still demanding and he understands. He has tried cutting himself. There are gashes on his arms and his legs and smaller cuts peppering the rest of his body and the relief has never lasted. Wei Wuxian's sacrifice will be useless if they don’t do it properly. ]
You have always tried to fix everything with blood.
[ He turns unseeing eyes on where the knife is pointed. Slowly pushes down and chokes out another bitter sob laugh - it sounds so much like in these memories, too. ] I should have done this myself already. I should have just let myself bleed out...
( 'you can't' could mean so many things right now - he can't actually fix this, he can't change anything between them, he can't make up for anything he's done - and wei ying doesn't question it. none of the possible meanings matter right now anyway, not compared to finishing this so that all this blood will actually make a difference.
luckily, jiang cheng presses the knife in despite his miserable protests, and again wei wuxian draws his arm back to guide the blade along the right path. he's not looking at it now. that seems like a perfectly good way to get dizzy, and he can't afford that yet, not until he's made it back to his own cabin. )
Stop, ( he scolds - to the words, not the cut. the rebuke has disappeared from his tone when he continues, but it's still firm. ) It's good that you didn't. Now you can clean yourself up and Shijie won't be any the wiser. Just... ( a dry chuckle, ) Keep her away from my cabin for a bit, if you don't mind. A day or two should be fine.
( he has no room to be making requests, he knows, but here comes another. ) Do you have any towels I can bleed on? I'll replace them. ( because he needs to wrap these, at the very least. )
[ Towels he can bleed on? Slowly but steadily, the reality of what he has just done finally sinks in.
Jiang Cheng stares at him in wide-eyed, mute horror in his blinded eyes and slowly shakes his head, then shakes it again more decisively. ] No... [ he breathes out even though he knows at this very moment that it is far too late for regrets. His fingers twitch around the knife. He doesn't need to see it to know the silver blade would be glistening with fresh red blood now, to know that Wei Ying's arms are coated in red, too - just like his own had been but deeper cuts, faster blood flow, everything he had been too cowardly to do. ]
I didn't want you to bleed for me [ he whispers miserably. ] You shouldn't...
[ He cuts himself off, lips pinched and face scrunched up in some weak approximation of his usual scowl. He didn't want it because he doesn't want to owe his sister's murderer, that is the easy explanation - the one he should by all rights fling in Wei Wuxian's face. He doesn't want it because he doesn't want Wei Wuxian to suddenly acknowledge ties that he had cut, just to make himself look the hero - that would be acceptable, too. And yet... He's so tired. So tired of people bleeding and dying and losing everything over and over again. He's just tired. ]
I'll clean up [ he says, forcing his voice into something that almost resembles the tightness that is normal between them nowadays, except there is a tremble that betrays him. ] You don't need to concern yourself with my and my sister's affairs.
( no? no they don't have any towels? it's all wei wuxian can do not to let out an abrupt bark of laughter, because of all the things for jiang cheng to deny him after all that they've just done, towels to bleed on seems so hilariously trivial.
but fine, fine. he won't press. he doesn't know if he has the time to press, his vision is starting to blur just slightly at the edges, each movement he makes threatening to make his head swim.
jiang cheng, for his part, sounds absolutely miserable at what they've done. wei ying wants to fix that too, but he knows where he can help and where he can't. there is no comforting jiang cheng. not for wei wuxian, of all people. instead, he pretends he believes the steeling in the man's tone as he tells him that he'll clean up. 'you don't need to concern yourself with my and my sister's affairs.' )
Of course not, ( he agrees, still too soft, but that's fine - he's standing up now, swaying just barely (good thing jiang cheng can't quite see yet) before finding his balance. ) I'll see myself out. ( and so he does, though not without ducking into the bathroom to steal whichever towel he spots along the way. sorry, whoever was using it. it's going to keep him from bleeding a path the whole way back to his cabin.
and then he's out the door and off into the night. )
[ ...and Jiang Cheng stays behind, listening to his fading footsteps and once more finding himself unable to find the words - or the courage - to make him stay. ]
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because now jiang cheng has dropped to his knees, and though both hands reach for wei wuxian, they do so with no concept whatsoever of how far to reach or where. and that in itself has his eyes burning again, tears trickling out from the corners this time as he wastes precisely no time in scooting across the remaining space between them. jiang cheng might feel knees pressing up to one side of his so they're close enough for wei ying to guide the searching hands to his shoulders, wrapping his own arms up around the man's shoulders to press their foreheads together in a desperate attempt to ground him even in his blindness. )
They haven't won. They haven't. ( even so quiet as his words may be, there's a stubborn sort of ferocity in that. in his refusal to accept defeat, now that they're fighting this place, these technicians, fate itself instead of one another. his next breath tries to hitch and betray him, but he refuses to allow that either, and instead it comes out only barely unsteady. ) There has to be some way to remember this, when I go back. They say that we can't, but they don't know what we're capable of. I'm going to find a way, and then you're-, you're gone to to tell me what it is that I've done to you - ( fuck, his voice just cracked - jiang cheng almost certainly knows he's crying now, not that he's given time to call him on it. ) - and how I've let harm come to Shijie, and I'm going to take that back to our home and... and avoid it, whatever it takes.
( it's not a concrete plan - it's barely even enough to count as a plan at all - but wei ying will figure the details out as they go. he won't accept failure on this one, he can't. )
But first, ( he says, back to that steady calming tone that got him this far already, ) you're going to take that knife and you're going to cut me on my arms. I'll show you where. And you're not going to argue, because you and I both know that Shijie can't come back and find you like this. ( a beat, and his voice drops quieter. ) It's alright. I won't even feel it. ( funny how such a thing would've taken the satisfaction away from wounding him just minutes ago. )
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How he wishes he could only remember what Wei Wuxian remembers, to be unbothered by pain and guilt.
Before he can even begin to work through these feelings, Wei Wuxian is again speaking of bleeding himself, or of Jiang Cheng bleeding him. He yanks away, shaking his head. ] I won't! [ he snaps, ] I can't do that. Don't you think I've tried? [ It doesn't stop, the blood only gives momentary relief. And besides... His voice quivers but he inhales sharply and forces out the words anyway. ] It won't change anything between us, even if you do this.
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fuck it, he's already crying.
he reaches for wherever jiang cheng has set the knife, reclaiming it even if he only intends to hand it over a second time. ) You haven't tried. Not like this. These little cuts, they just soothe it for a few minutes. But you can make it all stop, completely stop. You just need to draw enough blood at one time.
( but he has to address that last part, otherwise jiang cheng will notice, will possibly say something even worse to drive it home, so, ) I'm not doing this so you'll like me. You can curse every last letter of my name, I just. Want you to be okay. ( and this is how to accomplish that.
so he reaches out to wrap fingers around jiang cheng's right wrist, turning it just enough so the angle is write to slip the knife's handle into it. ) If you won't do this for your own stupid self, do it for Shijie.
no subject
So he shudders as the tears keep running down his face and his hands are limp in Wei Ying's grasp when he releases him from the embrace - Jiang Cheng has to stifle a moan of agony, he isn't ready to let him go yet - and forces his fingers to clasp around the knife. ]
I... Wei Wuxian... [ Even his protests are feeble now. Feeble and weak and he wishes he could glare at him at least but there is only black now. Only the feeling of Wei Wuxian’s hands guiding his and a little give to tell him the blade has been positioned against flesh. ] I don't want to [ he chokes out between tears. ] I don't want to do this. [ It's too dangerous. But the screaming is so loud and now that the world is fully dark, the memories are brighter.
Again, he watches a black-clad back as the man laughs while Lotus Pier burns to ashes around him - had it ever burned? But it feels so real he is choking on ash! Yanli lies in his arms bleeding out and then black cracks spread over her face and throat and her eyes open again, clawed hands reaching for his face to shred it into pieces at a flute's command...
Jiang Cheng screams and the knife sinks into flesh. ]
if anyone's thread-stalking, cw: semi-self-mutilation??
and all at once, with a desperate cry, jiang cheng does just as he was told. true to his word, wei ying doesn't so much as flinch - he wasn't lying when he said he wouldn't be able to feel it. luckily he has the presence of mind to draw his arm back, to lengthen the cut without forcing a blind and miserable jiang cheng to do it himself. )
Good, ( he says, his voice sounding odd and hollow as he stares at the blood already dripping from the lengthy gash. quickly he follows up with a steadier-sounding, ) Good. One left.
( and the hand attached to the wounded arm takes jiang cheng's wrist again - (he dimly notes that his outer two fingers aren't bending as he's telling them to, but that's a problem for later, not for now) - and positions the knife in the same place on his unwounded arm as well. ) That's it, just one more and this should go away. ( not right away, he doesn't think. soon, but not instantly. it just fades and fades until it's gone. that's what he heard. )
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But it isn't over yet, Wei Wuxian is still prodding at him, still demanding and he understands. He has tried cutting himself. There are gashes on his arms and his legs and smaller cuts peppering the rest of his body and the relief has never lasted. Wei Wuxian's sacrifice will be useless if they don’t do it properly. ]
You have always tried to fix everything with blood.
[ He turns unseeing eyes on where the knife is pointed. Slowly pushes down and chokes out another bitter sob laugh - it sounds so much like in these memories, too. ] I should have done this myself already. I should have just let myself bleed out...
no subject
luckily, jiang cheng presses the knife in despite his miserable protests, and again wei wuxian draws his arm back to guide the blade along the right path. he's not looking at it now. that seems like a perfectly good way to get dizzy, and he can't afford that yet, not until he's made it back to his own cabin. )
Stop, ( he scolds - to the words, not the cut. the rebuke has disappeared from his tone when he continues, but it's still firm. ) It's good that you didn't. Now you can clean yourself up and Shijie won't be any the wiser. Just... ( a dry chuckle, ) Keep her away from my cabin for a bit, if you don't mind. A day or two should be fine.
( he has no room to be making requests, he knows, but here comes another. ) Do you have any towels I can bleed on? I'll replace them. ( because he needs to wrap these, at the very least. )
no subject
Jiang Cheng stares at him in wide-eyed, mute horror in his blinded eyes and slowly shakes his head, then shakes it again more decisively. ] No... [ he breathes out even though he knows at this very moment that it is far too late for regrets. His fingers twitch around the knife. He doesn't need to see it to know the silver blade would be glistening with fresh red blood now, to know that Wei Ying's arms are coated in red, too - just like his own had been but deeper cuts, faster blood flow, everything he had been too cowardly to do. ]
I didn't want you to bleed for me [ he whispers miserably. ] You shouldn't...
[ He cuts himself off, lips pinched and face scrunched up in some weak approximation of his usual scowl. He didn't want it because he doesn't want to owe his sister's murderer, that is the easy explanation - the one he should by all rights fling in Wei Wuxian's face. He doesn't want it because he doesn't want Wei Wuxian to suddenly acknowledge ties that he had cut, just to make himself look the hero - that would be acceptable, too. And yet... He's so tired. So tired of people bleeding and dying and losing everything over and over again. He's just tired. ]
I'll clean up [ he says, forcing his voice into something that almost resembles the tightness that is normal between them nowadays, except there is a tremble that betrays him. ] You don't need to concern yourself with my and my sister's affairs.
no subject
but fine, fine. he won't press. he doesn't know if he has the time to press, his vision is starting to blur just slightly at the edges, each movement he makes threatening to make his head swim.
jiang cheng, for his part, sounds absolutely miserable at what they've done. wei ying wants to fix that too, but he knows where he can help and where he can't. there is no comforting jiang cheng. not for wei wuxian, of all people. instead, he pretends he believes the steeling in the man's tone as he tells him that he'll clean up. 'you don't need to concern yourself with my and my sister's affairs.' )
Of course not, ( he agrees, still too soft, but that's fine - he's standing up now, swaying just barely (good thing jiang cheng can't quite see yet) before finding his balance. ) I'll see myself out. ( and so he does, though not without ducking into the bathroom to steal whichever towel he spots along the way. sorry, whoever was using it. it's going to keep him from bleeding a path the whole way back to his cabin.
and then he's out the door and off into the night. )
no subject