Work Text:
Lan Wangji appears in the doorway of the jingshi, his usual pristine clothes soaked and dirty, sticking to his skin. Water is running in rivulets down his face, and if it weren’t for his red eyes and the fact that Lan Xichen knows his brother like the back of his own hand, the details of his brother crying would go unnoticed.
Xichen is standing and crossing the room before it even registers, grabbing hold of his brother in one arm and hauling him inside, out of the rain, closing the door behind them. Wangji doesn’t respond even as Xichen drags him over to deposit him on the bed, just sits and stares straight ahead. His crying is more obvious now, the drops of water from his hair finally slowing and the tears falling faster.
Xichen is worried, his heart feeling like it’s beating out of his chest. He hasn’t seen his brother cry since their mother died, never thought he would see it again. His brother buries his emotions further down than any of the Gusu Lan sect. He doesn’t get attached, doesn’t make friends. Or at least, he tries not to.
Despite how much he fought it, Xichen knows a certain someone managed to slide in past his brothers defences. And this someone is the only one capable of making his brother cry.
Xichen’s protective elder brother instincts are rising, and he takes in a deep breath to soothe them. First things first: his brother has to change out of his wet clothes.
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What feels like hours later and a lot of gentle speaking and persuasion on Xichen’s part, his brother now sits up in bed donned in new robes. His brother hasn’t spoken, has only moved the barest minimum. He sits still, his gaze fixed on the wall opposite.
His tears have stopped, his breathing evened out. He’s withdrawn into himself, and it’s Xichen’s job to coax him out again. And so Xichen sits on the edge of the bed next to him, leaning his shoulder against the wall. He’ll sit here all night, if need be.
It doesn’t take long. Soon his brother is taking in a breath to speak, only his voice seems to fail. Xichen speaks first. “You met him, didn’t you?”
Wangji just closes his eyes and nods, his body slumping fully against the pillows.
“You don’t have to talk about what happened if you don’t want to. Just-” he gets cut off by Wangji shaking his head and so he quiets, letting his brother have the room to get his thoughts together.
It takes a few minutes, and when he speaks he does so quietly enough that Xichen has to strain to hear him.
“He took them. All of them.”
“The Wens?”
A nod. “And I-I don’t know where he went.” Wangji’s voice breaks in the middle of the sentence and then the tears are falling and Wangji falls apart. He’s crying so hard he’s hiccuping, he’s heaving out breathes and he’s bent over his knees, his tears soaking the sheets.
Xichen sighs out a shaky breath and leans forward, wrapping his arms around his brothers torso as he sobs, and then Xichen is rocking back and forth to comfort him like he did when they were children, speaking gentle words in his ear.
“You’ve found him before, you can find him again, hm? He’s saving them, right? He’s not gone, you won’t lose him again. Remember what I said before? It’s what’s in a person's heart that matters. Right and wrong are not so easily determined, hm? Remember these words. You won’t lose him again. You won’t, you won’t.”
It takes a while, but eventually Wangji’s breath evens out once more, and the tears cease to fall. He relaxes in his brothers grip, although Xichen doesn’t stop rocking, not until Wangji’s eyes close and he falls asleep.
Xichen lowers him down slowly until his head hits the pillow, and then he grabs the sheet and pulls it up to Wangji’s shoulders, tucking him in.
Then he steps back, retreating to sit behind the table where his guqin lies, and preparing to play a song of relaxation for his brother to sleep peacefully, for however long it takes.