A Little Too Late

Chapter Four

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry this chapter took a bit longer, but it's the longest yet, so hopefully it was worth it! I would apologize for the angst, but I won't. XD Just know that the next chapter should be nicer. Emphasis on "should." XD Enjoy!

Sometime between when Lan Xichen had left and nightfall, Wei Wuxian had drifted off again, his dreams taking him back to a day not so long ago that he considered one of his most precious memories. A day spent with a clingy, bright-smiled little boy and a straight-faced young man who couldn't help but buy them both all that they wanted. A day that had ended with the remnants of an entire sect celebrating him as one of their own and thanking him for all that he had done for them.

When he woke up, he found his cheeks wet with tears, trailing until they stained his sleeves. He quickly lifted a hand to wipe them away, giving a huff of laughter at his foolishness.

"Wei Ying."

The soft words made Wei Wuxian freeze, holding his breath as he tried to decide if he had imagined them. But there was no doubt about it when the words came again, a bit louder, a bit more distressed, followed by the shuffle of movement beside him.

He twisted to face Lan Zhan, hand moving for the comforting gesture he had already become accustomed to, but he froze as the other man's eyes flickered open. He relaxed even as a concerned frown turned down his lips, realizing that while Lan Zhan's eyes were open, it wasn't Wei Wuxian in the jingshi that he was seeing.

"Shh," he said, resting his hand on Lan Zhan's head, "I'm right here, Lan Zhan."

Unlike before, Wei Wuxian's words did nothing to calm the young man. If anything, they only made him squirm more, the pain in his face growing from both his movements and whatever scene was stuck inside his head as he called for his soulmate once more.

Wei Wuxian did all that he could think of to soothe his best friend's distress, but even the song that had done wonders thus far failed to make its way past the panic that seemed to have set in. Instead, he was forced to sit and watch, a hand pressed lightly against fever-warmed skin until the memory seemed to fade on its own and Lan Zhan drifted back into sleep, mouth still forming barely-there words that Wei Wuxian could only hear if he leaned in close. Mostly it was his own name on Lan Zhan's lips, but on occasion, a different name would form: the name of the same little boy who had claimed both young men as his family from the moment he had met them.

Whenever a-Yuan's name would come up, Wei Wuxian would do his best to comfort his best friend, whispering that Wei Ying was there, that a-Yuan was safe... that everything was alright. Speaking the assurances made him wince, the reminder of how much of a lie it was reverberating through his soul each time. He didn't feel guilt, though; if pretending that the little boy he had treated like his own son was still alive gave Lan Zhan even the slightest bit of comfort, then he would, every time. He only wished that the assurances could have been true, that a-Yuan hadn't been victim to such meaningless violence as what the Wens had been forced to endure.

Wei Wuxian continued to doze in and out of sleep, plagued by dreams of all that had happened in the past few years, since his first day in Cloud Recesses. Some of them were good dreams, but many - most - were not. He was forced to watch as he lost everything again one by one, regardless of whether he was asleep or awake, the scenes playing in his mind even when he woke with a start and paced the confines of the building with shaking hands.

It felt like only a moment before the door to the jingshi was sliding open again, startling Wei Wuxian into reaching for the flute that no longer resided at his side. He let himself relax as he met Lan Xichen's gaze, though he stayed frozen as the older man stepped in and slid the door closed behind him.