( He breathes in deep when his (former) brother lets go, finally having an out that he takes as shamefully as he can; it was awkward, but not for the crying. The not knowing what to do, or what to say. People's tears aren't easy things to deal with. Time's changed none of that for him, sixteen missing years a blank slate for nothing but the passage of time.
The words echo through his chest, and once he can see Jiang Cheng's face again, he reaches up to keep hold of one arm. A tenuous connection, but grounding, if not for Jiang Cheng, than for himself. He's used to this kind of grip, and he understands too acutely the feelings involved. Wanting to protect, failing to do so. Feeling powerless and useless no matter what you do. Having meant to do good, and having failed, and harmed the ones you loved best.
He wants the easy way out. To say, 'It's so long ago, who wants to focus on the past?' To say, 'Things were happening as they would.' To say so many things, but what he swallows down are all those impulses, meant for himself more than a placation offered to another adult who has run his sect as sole head and hand behind it for sixteen years. Long enough to help raise a nephew who shouldn't have been raised without his parents.
But for the sins of their generation, Jin Ling would have had a family beyond two uncles, one willing to make light of his life for his own ambitions.
Still, what gives his caught tongue strength is the name on the plaque, Jiang Yanli watching them with eyes that had always believed better out of them both than either of them had been on their own. )
Jiang Cheng...
( His fingers tighten around his arm. Listen. Please? He doesn't know how to say that. )
If they'd taken me first, would you and shijie have run, like I asked? Would you have never turned back to see if you could find me, for the same wish to protect? Would you have not tried to gamble on bringing me or the remains of your parents out, would you have not found a place to run?
( Some of this, he thinks, can only answer with a no. He doesn't believe Jiang Cheng would have trusted Wen Ning the way Wei Wuxian had gambled, when Wei Wuxian had also believed Wen Ning was betraying him, until the moment he had not. He doesn't know that their paths would have rejoined, but if they had, would the end journey have been to Wen Qing's mansion, to a chance at recovery? Pride has made things difficult in the past, on both their parts. One course changing, but others? )
When Wen Chao caught me, ( and he pauses, because bad memories are the haziest for him, the things he tries hardest to forget, and he doesn't want to reach back for these ones. He's trying, and he hates it, and he thinks of Yanli and what is owed and what apologies are, and what useless thoughts they both entertain. There's no going back. He does not want to mention any of this. He wants it buried, but what hasn't already been wrested from him by others? He can pry this out, too, for someone used to making him bleed. He owes Jiang Cheng that much. ) when he caught me, they were the ones who thought they melted my core. If I'd had one, I'd have lost it then, if not sooner. Do you understand? At least one good thing came out of this, in all our trying to save each other. We weren't both lost.
( He doesn't know how tight his hold has grown. Doesn't think about how it's weaker than it was years ago. He has to concentrate to cause physical harm, to not conserve qi as he must, and it's not crushing strength he needs.
He doesn't want to look to the past. It hurts. Partly for his own hubris, always, but also for the things he could do nothing about, not then, and not now. )
You protected us the way you thought you could. If the results aren't what were expected... Jiang Cheng, I know how that is. You didn't fail us. Do you need me to count the ways? Trusting my memory that much, ( and his lips quirk, pull into a lopsided grin as he ignores whatever tracts of tears there had been down his face, at the drying salt and cooling lines of it, his neck faintly damp now; ) it's a little much, isn't it?
the whole meltdown process and everyone's scrambling for answers...
The words echo through his chest, and once he can see Jiang Cheng's face again, he reaches up to keep hold of one arm. A tenuous connection, but grounding, if not for Jiang Cheng, than for himself. He's used to this kind of grip, and he understands too acutely the feelings involved. Wanting to protect, failing to do so. Feeling powerless and useless no matter what you do. Having meant to do good, and having failed, and harmed the ones you loved best.
He wants the easy way out. To say, 'It's so long ago, who wants to focus on the past?' To say, 'Things were happening as they would.' To say so many things, but what he swallows down are all those impulses, meant for himself more than a placation offered to another adult who has run his sect as sole head and hand behind it for sixteen years. Long enough to help raise a nephew who shouldn't have been raised without his parents.
But for the sins of their generation, Jin Ling would have had a family beyond two uncles, one willing to make light of his life for his own ambitions.
Still, what gives his caught tongue strength is the name on the plaque, Jiang Yanli watching them with eyes that had always believed better out of them both than either of them had been on their own. )
Jiang Cheng...
( His fingers tighten around his arm. Listen. Please? He doesn't know how to say that. )
If they'd taken me first, would you and shijie have run, like I asked? Would you have never turned back to see if you could find me, for the same wish to protect? Would you have not tried to gamble on bringing me or the remains of your parents out, would you have not found a place to run?
( Some of this, he thinks, can only answer with a no. He doesn't believe Jiang Cheng would have trusted Wen Ning the way Wei Wuxian had gambled, when Wei Wuxian had also believed Wen Ning was betraying him, until the moment he had not. He doesn't know that their paths would have rejoined, but if they had, would the end journey have been to Wen Qing's mansion, to a chance at recovery? Pride has made things difficult in the past, on both their parts. One course changing, but others? )
When Wen Chao caught me, ( and he pauses, because bad memories are the haziest for him, the things he tries hardest to forget, and he doesn't want to reach back for these ones. He's trying, and he hates it, and he thinks of Yanli and what is owed and what apologies are, and what useless thoughts they both entertain. There's no going back. He does not want to mention any of this. He wants it buried, but what hasn't already been wrested from him by others? He can pry this out, too, for someone used to making him bleed. He owes Jiang Cheng that much. ) when he caught me, they were the ones who thought they melted my core. If I'd had one, I'd have lost it then, if not sooner. Do you understand? At least one good thing came out of this, in all our trying to save each other. We weren't both lost.
( He doesn't know how tight his hold has grown. Doesn't think about how it's weaker than it was years ago. He has to concentrate to cause physical harm, to not conserve qi as he must, and it's not crushing strength he needs.
He doesn't want to look to the past. It hurts. Partly for his own hubris, always, but also for the things he could do nothing about, not then, and not now. )
You protected us the way you thought you could. If the results aren't what were expected... Jiang Cheng, I know how that is. You didn't fail us. Do you need me to count the ways? Trusting my memory that much, ( and his lips quirk, pull into a lopsided grin as he ignores whatever tracts of tears there had been down his face, at the drying salt and cooling lines of it, his neck faintly damp now; ) it's a little much, isn't it?