westwhere | i will not ask you where you came from

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i will not ask you where you came from

WHO: Wen Kexing & Zhou Zishu
WHEN: Shortly after the TDM
WHERE: Ephes ( a tavern )
WHAT: Just two awful men reuniting for the love affair of the century.
WARNINGS: No, unless a mass murderer being absolutely pathetic is something to warn for. We're retconning their tdm meeting with permission, however!

The tavern is already full and noisy by the time Wen Kexing arrives, brow furrowed and a bundle of papers in his arms. He slips in easy enough, ducking around patrons to make his way to the bar, gaining the servers attention just by rapping his knuckles against the wood of the counter. A smile, and his bundle is taken away, promises that they will be signed and returned given. A cup of wine placed in front of him that he knocks back with a grimace, his constant headache looming behind his eyes. The server, a broad shouldered man who knows Wen Kexing, tells him he's just missed someone buying a round, and he gives a wry smile, tossing down his coin just as easily. Another cup, and he tilts his head to listen to a group of girls gossiping about the handsome man in the corner, pulling his fan from his sleeve so he can wave it lazily in front of his face.

He's tired, too irritable to make conversation, too busy to leave. He just needs the papers signed by the man in charge and then he can go back to his rooms and drink himself into oblivion, that's all. It shouldn't take long. But still he leans on one elbow to scan the room, idle and bored. It takes him a full sweep before his mind catches up with him and that attention snaps to that very same corner, the handsome brooding man he'd just heard about. They don't do him justice, he thinks, sudden and hysterical. He almost opens his mouth to correct the group of girls when they chitter about the prospect of walking over, but instead he's snapping his fan shut and moving, feet clumsy and his tongue suddenly dry.

The robes are new, the robes are new but he'd recognise him anywhere.

"Ah-Xu."

That lovely face snaps up to look at him, Wen Kexing having to steady himself by placing a hand on the table in front of him. He's shaking a little, he can feel it all the way up to his shoulder. There is a pin in his hair that matches the one in Wen Kexing's own and he thinks wildly that it suits him, that it's unfair that it suits him, when he can't remember placing it there.

"Ah-Xu, we can't keep meeting like this."

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As much as what Wen Kexing says sounds absolutley ridiculous, Zhou Zishu's protests stick in his throat. His eyes go unerringly to the jade stick tucked into Wen Kexing's hair, and he knows it's the same one that Wen Kexing has slid into Zhou Zishu's own. That is evidence more damning than anything else, that Wen Kexing is telling the truth, odd as it may be.

"Three months. What's the last thing you remember, then?" If they're from different points in time, he's willing to bet that he's from further along that Wen Kexing is. "And should we really be having this conversation here?"

"No, you're right. Come on then, I'm staying nearby anyway."

It makes sense for him to be close to the heart of the entertainment district, with how much his role depends on the fair passage of women and wine. So he takes Zhou Zishu's arm again, steering him carefully down the alley and towards a row of quieter, crowded buildings. He's quiet as he leads him up the stone stairs to a room at the end of a hall, quiet still as he unlocks a door, guiding him inside. There's a moment where Wen Kexing sweeps his gaze across the empty space as though wary, but that passes, and he pauses only to light a candle or two.

"It's not much, but we shouldn't really be bothered here."

And he's tidied up since his breakdown, which helps. "Ah, there's wine."

The adjoining room is mostly empty, but he checks the chains on the hand's box with a rough pull before he's closing that door behind him, carrying the bottle on his way out. When he looks at Zhou Zishu again though, he pauses, as if once again suddenly arrested by him. His mouth pulls up a little, in a sweet smile, eyes wide in the flickering light. Then he remembers himself, holding the bottle out.

"Here."

The walls have ears; Zhou Zishu knows this better than most. He looks around as Wen Kexing leads him down the alley, through the building and past rows of closed doors. There's a familiarity to this space that Wen Kexing has, and Zhou Zishu isn't sure he likes it. It's not the same casual arrogance that settled across Wen Kexing's shoulders when they stepped foot into Ghost Valley, but something a little more wary. This place is his, but he isn't entirely sure of his welcome in it.

He follows when Wen Kexing moves into the adjoining room, though he stays in the doorway to watch, and his eyebrow quirks as Wen Kexing yanks at the chains of a box, making a reflexive mental note to check it out later. Without hiding what he was doing--Lao Wen knows what kind of person he is--and steps back into the main room when Wen Kexing moves to do so.

Wine, though.

Zhou Zishu reaches out, past the wine, and lets his fingertips trail over the full length of Wen Kexing's hand to take the bottle with a flourish even he can admit is fully unnecessary.

It's so undeniably a Zhou Zishu move that Wen Kexing is seized by the sudden urge to knock the wine from his hand and kiss him then and there. Instead he keeps himself very still, eyes bright, and heaves a dramatic, ridiculous sigh. "If you keep flirting with me, Zhou Zishu, then I might get ideas."

He already has ideas, if he's honest. He knows the other man knows that too. But there are other things he should focus on and so he's removing his bundle of paper from his sleeve, dropping it unceremoniously on a nearby desk so he can shrug out of his outer layer.

"Make yourself comfortable, Ah-Xu. You might prefer to be, while we talk."

There is a chair, a bed, he's curious where Zhou Zishu might settle. If he'll stick to what Wen Kexing remembers, that careful closeness the other man had been nurturing from the moment his identity was revealed. He hadn't quite realised how much he'd missed that until it was gone, and now he finds he's half afraid they'll be back to square one again.

He watches as Wen Kexing drops the stack of papers onto the desk, he's going to go through those later too, and then strips off his outer layer. It makes him look softer, more wearied, and Zhou Zishu's heart aches for him. "Are you going to stay way over there?" he asks, throwing himself down onto the bed with a disdainful sniff and leaving plenty of room beside him.

The wine is sniffed at--habit, since he can't actually smell it--and Zhou Zishu takes a healthy swig. "Stop treating me like I'm delicate, Lao Wen. I'll beat you for it."

He's like a kite pulled along on a string, taking the space beside Zhou Zishu on the bed. Before, when he was simply trying to wind the other man up, he wouldn't have hesitated, but now? Well, it means something to him now. He still offers up a grin, a waggling of his eyebrows, he's not dead, but there's certainly something softer about his gaze.

"I've missed you." Said with a laugh, but the sincerity rings true. He shifts, so he can face him, tucking a leg underneath himself and smoothing out the folds of his robes, an anxiety in the plucking of his fingers that he then forces still.

"All right, so you asked me what I remember last. Hero Shen was with us, he'd just found out about my --." A pause, a twisting of his features, "My parents. I fell sick, I think. I don't know. I remember being angry, and then - then I woke up here?"

It's a blur, and he hates it, hates that even now if he tries to remember his head starts to hurt. "I'm not surprised, if you're from further along." A glance, to the ornament in Zhou Zishu's hair, "Lan Xichen told me that could happen. He said I wouldn't be missed, that if I could return it would be to the exact same point."

He'd been sick with worry then, terrified that the man before him would die in his absense. It had been a blessing, even if part of him had still doubted.

"Lan Xichen," he repeats. "A friend?"

He focuses on that, first. Everything else... Zishu reels a bit from the realization. He knows exactly what Wen Kexing is talking about, but that's-- That's so long ago. Before they sent Gu Xiang off with her little rabbit boy, before going to the Manor and the confrontation with Senior Ye. Before Han Ying and Jin Wang, and Lao Wen storming in with the forces of Ghost Valley at his back to kneel at Zhou Zishu's feet and declare himself the second disciple of Four Seasons Sect.

Before the act when Zishu thought he watched his own disciple kill his zhiji. Before Zishu burning the body he thought was Wen Kexing's to prevent it from being desecrated. Before Zhao Jing's deception was revealed and they retreated to Ghost Valley for the wedding Lao Wen is so excited for.

Zhou Zishu takes a deep breath, and another long drink.

He wishes he could taste it.

"Mm. A good one."

He knows it's a little funny, that Wen Kexing has made friends. He finds it funny, anyway. It's certainly been a surprise that he'd somehow managed it, though he suspects that's more to do with Lan Xichen than himself. He'd been aiming for allies, and had been seen through quite quickly.

"He and his brother both, though Wangji is ... well. We disagree, more often than not, though he still tends to be useful."

He didn't leave Wen Kexing to the ghost of the Valley Master, and so now Wen Kexing owes him. That's as close as they'll get to friendship, he thinks. But he suspects that Zhou Zishu's asking as a way to give himself time to process though, and so Wen Kexing watches him closely, keen dark eyes flitting over his face. He's so lovely to look at, even guarded.

"When I first arrived I was told we've been here before. You and I both. You don't remember, do you?"

His memory is already a fragmented thing, he can't trust it. But Zhou Zishu's on the other hand? At least if they're on the same page he can start to feel better about it.

He's glad Wen Kexing has a friend. Someone to help him remember who he is and who he is trying to be, without Gu Xiang or Zhou Zishu at his side.

"I've never been here before," he says instead, firm and certain. "Whoever told you that was wrong."

Zishu's senses may be failing, but not his memory, as whip-sharp as it's always been. He knows he's never seen this place.

"That's what I said."

Sulky, indignant. He knew he wasn't wrong. But the mood has shifted a little and so he wrests it back now, reaching out a hand to snag the wine from Zhou Zishu's lax grip, turning the bottle so that he can drink from exactly the same side, eyes dark as he does so. He takes a deep swallow all the while holding eye contact, wipes the back of his wet mouth with his hand after.

"How much further then? I know you're from later, Ah-Xu. I know I gave you that."

The hairpin, he means. Unless he died, and his zhiji is wearing it as some kind of memorial token. He considers asking, but Zhou Zishu isn't treating him like he's a ghost come back to life. It makes more sense that Wen Kexing chose to, there isn't a safer place for the armoury key beyond his own head. It does make him wonder why though. Would he give it up if he thought atop his own head was the wrong place? Maybe.

Wen Kexing's deliberate choice of where to drink from isn't subtle in the least, and it makes Zhou Zishu want to smile, tugging at the corner of his lips. This silly man. Doesn't he know he doesn't need to do things like that anymore?

Ah.

No, he doesn't. Because he's missing the information that Zishu has. Missing what they've gone through. It sends grief streaking through Zhou Zishu in a way reminiscent of how it felt when he thought Wen Kexing had died.

"A few months after that," he says carefully. He reaches up to his hair, though he doesn't touch the stick safely tucked into the long locks. "And you did, yes. You chased-- You chased away the person who was helping me to take over yourself, as though you're nothing more than a servant." Or a spouse. "Do you want it back?"

He doesn't want to give it back, but it isn't fair to keep it when Wen Kexing didn't even know he's gifted it.

"No."

He wants to break the one in his own so that Zhou Zishu alone has it, an impulse that surprises him at the same time that it doesn't. Of course he wants to, it's a claim in a way. He's surprised Zhou Zishu allows it, and he's hungry for the why's to that too. He supposes he has the time to find out now.

"It looks better on you than it could me."

It is safer with him.

"You know I'd be anything you'd have of me anyway, don't sound so surprised."

"Are you sincere?"

It slips out, unbidden. The Wen Kexing he knows, he wouldn't have to ask. This Wen Kexing, who is the exact same person yet isn't at all, he can't help but wonder at. He's like a child, his Lao Wen, still hurting and grieving over the loss of his innocence from twenty years ago, and denying it all the while.

He reaches out, covers Wen Kexing's hand with his own in a bold move. "Lao Wen," he says quietly, the wine loosening his tongue. "Are you sincere?"

"Can't you tell?"

He's still under Zhou Zishu's touch, his eyes wide when he looks back at him. There's something he's missing, he thinks, some experience he has yet to live. He wishes, not for the first time, that he could dig around a little in the other man's skull, pluck the answers free. He's always been an enigma, it will be worse now.

"I am."

He licks his bottom lip, mouth suddenly dry, heart hammering away in his chest. He wants - but no, Zhou Zishu had been very drunk when he'd found him. So he has to use his words instead and that feels somehow more mortifying than he'd like, his insides squirming with his unrest. "Ah-Xu, I know how I acted when we met, but I -. I really -." A curse, another helpless twisting of his expression. He wishes he had his fan to hide behind, "I mean it. Whatever way you'd have me, I'd be yours. I didn't even know what it was like to be me before you."

They really shouldn't be having this conversation when Zhou Zishu is as drunk as he is. He presses his free hand to his forehead, the other tightening around Wen Kexing's in a steady grasp.

"And when I die?"

"Then I die too."

Simply enough, though perhaps not what Zhou Zishu wants to hear. But he takes a breath anyway, trying very hard to ignore the way the thought has turned sour inside of his stomach, the panic rising along with the sickness.

"There are people here, Ah-Xu. People with powers well beyond my comprehension. If you're worried we're too far for Ye Baiyi to reach us then don't, I'll find someone to cure you. I'll do whatever it takes."

He shifts, leaning closer, reaching out a hand to take the other, bring both wrists to catch in his grasp.

"You're not dying on me, Zhou Zishu. You're not. So don't think about it."

Perhaps it's the wine. Perhaps it's the stress of the long day in so unfamiliar a place. Perhaps it's just finally having Wen Kexing back at his side where he belongs. Zhou Zishu's eyes burn, and he has to look away.

"If you can-- If there is someone here who can help me--"

He takes a breath.

"Senior Ye's help can't reach us here, in any case." And even if Wu Xi miraculously showed up, Zishu knows that he's ruined any chance of being able to be saved. The moment he forced the Nails out of his body, he knew. "I don't want to die, Lao Wen. We have to watch your girl get married and have a fat, bouncing boy. Chengling still needs so much training before he can take on the legacies he's inherited. There is so much of the world for us to see, so much wine for us to drink... If there is someone who can help me, then I'll pay whatever price I need to for it."

"Stop."

Dread is an old friend to Wen Kexing, he feels it looming now, spectral in the dark corners of the room. "Ah-Xu. You're not going to die. As if I'd let you!"

He knows how he is, half-mad most days, monstrous the rest. If he has to channel that to get someone to help then he will. There are so many people here, with so many skills, if he must barter or bully his way into gaining aid then that's simply what he'll do. Already his mind is ticking over the possibilities, who he could call upon, who might be swayed, but there's little he can do right now without a fully solid plan. So instead he lets one hand go, reaches out to cup it carefully around Zhou Zishu's neck.

"Listen to me, we'll have all that. Even if I have to accept that ridiculous worm as a son-in-law. You don't have to worry, I'll solve it." And then, with a weak attempt at humour, "I'm not raising your disciple for you anyway, so be good and put it out of your head."

He'd die, as soon as Zhou Zishu anyway. There would be no carrying on in his stead.

If (when) he dies, though, despite all that Wen Kexing says, Zhou Zishu knows that he's too soft at heart to leave Chengling and Gu Xiang alone. And if (when) he dies, Zhou Zishu will do it somewhere far away, so that he isn't one more ghost haunting Wen Kexing's mind. Beiyuan and Wu Xi won't be happy about it, but they'll cover for him and take care of Wen Kexing until he's able to move past Zishu's death.

However, if there's a way to stop that. To, at least, hold his condition in stasis until they're able to get back home... He'll grab at whatever opportunity he can with both hands.

"You don't have to do everything on your own," he says quietly, leaning into Wen Kexing's touch. "That's how things go badly, Lao Wen."

"Well then, don't make me."

Don't die, he means, don't leave me. The fingers against Zhou Zishu's neck twitch, and he heaves out a sigh, finding the wine from between them and leaning away only to place it carefully where it won't be knocked and spilled. Then he's shifting to his knees, a hand on each of Zhou Zishu's shoulders, squeezing. He's too skinny, even now, and Wen Kexing has to wonder what he spent the months doing if not searching desperately for a cure or trying his best to fatten him up.

"You're going to be fine."

If he says it often enough, firmly enough, then maybe it will be true.

"I'll ask around, mm?"

He should have been doing so before. He's wasted so much time simply expecting he would return home and Ye Baiyi would have pulled through. How foolish.

"Now stop being maudlin, or I won't let you drink anymore."

"Don't do anything on your own. And especially don't do anything stupid on your own." His tone is very, very flat. "Haven't we kept enough from each other? No more secrets, Lao Wen."

And if he sounds a bit pleading--well. He's allowed to.

No more secrets, he says, as if Wen Kexing is not made of the things. He sits back on his heels, deflated, suddenly moved to chewing the inside of his cheek like a child. It is hard not to want to immediately slam the walls back up, that urgent, desperate fear that he will be found out and cast aside gripping him by the throat. No more secrets, as though Wen Kexing could easily spread them out between them and not cower from it?

"Ah-Xu."

He wishes he hadn't put the wine aside. It feels too obvious to reach for it now. He lets go of Zhou Zishu instead, fidgeting with the fall of his own robes, fingers plucking. This week has been nothing but the open raw wounds of Wen Kexing's past seeping out, could he do it again? He doesn't know.

"I don't lie to hurt you. But surely some things are better left in the dark?"

He grabs for Wen Kexing's hands, gripping them tightly. Zhou Zishu feels very, very sober right now.

"When you gave this to me," he says quietly. "You asked me why I wasn't more surprised to see you. And I told you that I may not have known how or when, but I knew you would come for me."

There's a wealth of information he's implying with what he's saying, but he isn't going to give Wen Kexing the luxury of knowing those gory details.

"Am I wrong? Are you so different to the Lao Wen that pledged himself to me?"

"No."

The fact that Zhou Zishu might doubt him has him startled into movement, a flock of birds on the wind. His own hand clutch back, desperate, white knuckled, mouth twisting in something close to misery.

"I'd always come for you, Ah-Xu. I don't care how far, or how difficult, or how impossible it might be. But that's not what I -." He cuts himself off, teeth clacking. And then, helpless. "What if it's horrible? What if the things that I've been are too awful to look at? I know I did this all wrong in the beginning, but I'm trying now. I've been trying. I just don't want to lose you. Even here, the only thing that's kept me going is knowing I could get back."

"Lao Wen," he says again, then. He tightens his hands on Wen Kexing's not letting him pull away, because he knows he'll try.

"You asked me once, and I'll tell you again. You are a good person. In all the ways you are not, neither am I. I would protect you from all the pain of your past if I could, but I can't regret that it's made you who you are. It's only because of that, thst we fit so well together, you and I. Or do you think my hands are any cleaner than yours, Valley Master?"

He had hoped he could coax Wen Kexing into telling him on his own time, but he also remembers how Wen Kexing ran off to face Te Baiyi alone rather than admit it to Zhou Zishu. Perhaps it'll be easier to just point out that he's well aware of it all.

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