WIP Wednesday
It's somehow Wednesday again! Enjoy DFS and FDB trying to comfort LLH during a nightmare.
(You can find more excerpts here.)
A-Fei cut himself off, head whipping around to look at Li Lianhua. “Xiangyi?” All trace of the storm had vanished, leaving only worry in its wake.
Fang Duobing sat bolt upright. “What’s wrong?”
Li Lianhua’s hand twitched.
Huli Jing whined and shifted to drape herself across Li Lianhua’s knees.
“Where’s the incense?” a-Fei snapped, glancing frantically around the room.
“What?”
“Incense,” a-Fei bit out. “From the parcel. Find it. Now.”
Fang Duobing bit back his demand for details. “On it,” he said instead, yanking the parcel from his robe and tugging at the strings. Damn it, why had he tied them so tightly?
“Xiangyi, it’s alright,” a-Fei said, his gruff voice gentled. He tapped Li Lianhua’s pulse point repeatedly. “You’re in Lotus Tower. You’re safe. It’s time to wake up.”
A nightmare? He should have known. Of course a-Fei would have something for treating them, and of course he wouldn’t have wanted to talk about–
“–No,” Li Lianhua mumbled, “no, don’t–”
“You’re safe, Xiangyi,” a-Fei said more urgently, squeezing his wrist and giving it a shake. You’re free. Now stop fighting and open your eyes!”
Oh, shit, if he was dreaming of whatever happened earlier, and he tried to destroy his heart meridian again–
“–I can’t wake him up,” a-Fei hissed. “Hurry.”
“Understood.” Fuck it. Fang Duobing snapped the string in half and tore the packaging open. Dried herbs spilled on the ground like tears.
“Don’t do this,” Li Lianhua begged, his voice breaking.
“It’s not real,” a-Fei said, gripping his shoulder, “whatever you’re seeing, you already survived it. It can’t hurt you. Follow my voice and open your eyes.”
Duobing’s fingertips finally bumped something long and thin. “Found it,” he said, jumping to his feet. Fuck, where was the incense burner? He’d stowed it when he’d driven the Lotus Tower here, which meant it was–“The kitchen. Hang on, Xiaohua’er,” he said, sprinting to the front of the Lotus Tower.
Fuck fuck fuck. He yanked cabinet drawers open, feeling around the pots and pans, until–
“–I got it,” he called out, rushing back into the room, shoving the incense stick into the burner as he went.
A-Fei had shifted to his knees, his dao abandoned on the bed, and had one hand splayed over Xiaohua’s chest, preemptively radiating qi, and the other wrapped around his wrist, fingertips to pulse, hovering close to his lips. “Light it,” he snapped, not taking his eyes from Xiaohua. “Xiangyi,” he murmured, “Lianhua. Xiaohua. I’m here. Xiaobao’s here. No one else. We won’t let anyone hurt you again. It’s a dream, alright? Just a dream. Open your eyes.”
Fang Duobing shoved some clutter off the nightstand, slammed the burner in the newly cleared space, and fumbled in his robe for his flame stick.
Xiaohua thrashed wildly. “Stop! Please stop!”
Fang Duobing lit the incense, capped the flame stick, tossed it somewhere, and rushed to the bed. “It’s ready!” he said, holding it out to a-Fei.
“Bring it here,” a-Fei said, twisting to the side to make space while still keeping a hand on Xiaohua’s heart.
Fang Duobing sat on the edge of the bed, against Xiaohua’s hip, hovering the incense burner over Xiaohua’s chest, and tried to waft the fumes closer with his free hand. “Like this?”
“Let me go,” Xiaohua sobbed, “Please, Shiniang, let me go!!”
Wait, then the healer was his shiniang? Shit, of course, why hadn’t he thought of that before? That would explain everything–
–Why did a-Fei look like he’d just been stabbed?
“A-Fei?” he whispered.
A-Fei blinked, and the raw devastation on his face turned into cold, consuming rage. “She’s not here. We won’t let her hurt you again.”
Oh. Oh no.
“It’s ok, Xiaohua’er,” Fang Duobing said. “We won’t let anything happen to her.”
A-Fei shot him a look of such abject hatred Fang Duobing was vaguely surprised he didn’t gut him with his dao on the spot.
“Trust me,” Fang Duobing mouthed at him. “We won’t let her sacrifice herself for you. We promise.” He grabbed Xiaohua’s free hand and squeezed it. “You saved her, ok? You’re both safe. No one has to die. You’ve done enough. You can rest now, alright? Just breathe. That’s it. Nice, deep breaths.”
He stroked Xiaohua’s hand, keeping up a steady stream of encouraging murmurs, until the faint tremors coursing through his arms had stopped, until his breath evened out, until his face had once again gone slack with restful sleep.
Fang Duobing gave Xiaohua’s hand another squeeze, placed it carefully back on top of the blanket, and forced himself to release it. “Sleep well, Xiaohua’er,” he whispered, tucking a flyaway wisp of hair behind Xiaohua’s ear.
A-Fei hadn’t made a sound since Fang Duobing had started speaking, other than the rustle of fabric when he changed position, removed his hand from Li Lianhua’s chest, and slipped back into his earlier post in the corner.
Maybe his headache was acting up again?
A-Fei looked mostly normal: the dao was back on his lap, his legs were crossed, and he seemed to be meditating again. The only difference from earlier was that now he was holding Li Lianhua’s wrist in both hands, and his head was ever so slightly bowed over it.
He thought back on how gutted and horrified a-Fei had looked when Li Lianhua had shouted his Shiniang’s name. How furious he’d been when Duobing had promised to keep her safe.
There was no way he was as fine as he was pretending to be.
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