[ 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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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.
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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. )
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