He kept moving, but Blue stayed out of reach, far, far above and his Gold was not to be seen at all.

Gold. Gold must be somewhere.

The dark fog enrobed his body and he grew accustomed to the appearance of his feet moving into and out of view on the ground as the smoke obscured his sight.

For a brief moment he thought he saw the shine of Gold, but he did not focus fast enough, and it was gone before he could be certain.

He kept moving.

His Gold was somewhere.

The day dragged on. Regularly apprentices came and sat beside Wei WuXian while they gave him their spiritual energy. At prescribed intervals Healer Shui came and checked over Wei WuXian's pulses. Lan WangJi hoped the tremors would stop, but they did not. First one side of Wei WuXian's body quivered, then rested. After a time, the other side would do the same. At one point Lan WangJi sat up with a start, thinking Wei WuXian was waking up, only to realize that it was the hand held carefully in his own that had begun to quake. All Lan WangJi could do was call Healer Shui and wait for the shaking to pass. All day his heart beat to the constant refrain, Wei Ying, please! Wei Ying, please!

The afternoon blurred into a long sequence of watch, fear, watch again, until time lost all meaning. Lan SiZhui quietly excused himself after the evening meal, first making certain that his Father Lan ate something, and that Healer Shui did not require any further assistance from him. He was looking very pale and worn himself by this point, and sought the support of his friends before the evening ended.

By the time curfew arrived, the shuddering was nearly constant, in one area or another. Wei WuXian's body shivered and shook, while the quilts slipped off time and again and spiritual energy was now provided by Healer Shui himself, the apprentices being too nervous to handle themselves well.

"Healer Shui?" asked Lan WangJi.

"Yes, HanGuang-Jun?" Healer Shui replied.

"What if the shaking does not stop?"

Healer Shui shook his head. "It must stop. If this keeps on happening... a body can only take so much stress before it shuts down. If it gets worse... well, I once had to care for a young man who had terrible seizures after a fall onto his head. Every time he awoke he was a little less himself. Finally, after a year he had a truly terrifying seizure and passed away. I'm sorry, HanGuang-Jun. We are doing all we can, and the body is healing well, but we can't know what's happening to cause these seizures and we don't know what's happening in Master Wei's mind. He is strong. He has many reasons to live. To recover. We will give him all the time we can and hope that he makes it through. It's all we can do."

Shortly after, when all but a single candle had been extinguished and a senior apprentice replaced Healer Shui overnight, Lan WangJi settled above his husband on the seat at the top of the bed. Placing his hands on each side of Wei WuXian's face, he bowed forward and kissed his forehead, lips clinging to the warm skin, evidence of life. He tipped his head so that the cloud emblem on his forehead ribbon rested on Wei WuXian, lips moving in prayer until he finally succumbed to sleep.

Terrible dreams plagued Lan WangJi that night. Trapped in a storm-tossed wilderness, all darkness and screaming wind, he searched fruitlessly for his husband. "Wei Ying! Wei Ying!" he screamed over and over. Stumbling over hillocks and stones, falling to his knees only to rise and continue the search. He was trapped in a maelstrom, unsure of where he was, knowing only that he sought for his Wei Ying, desperate to find his husband. Finally, he arrived at the edge of a cliff, where he clung to a slim young tree, roots anchored into the very rock itself. He hung over the abyss, calling, until the tree itself began to shudder as if to shake him free. He clung more tightly, white-knuckled in his nightmare. He must hold on. He could not fall. His Wei Ying needed him. He must not be shaken free. Finally, his hands slipped from the branches, and he suddenly awoke, his own scream echoing in his ears... only to face the frightened face of the night shift apprentice, pointing a shaking finger at him.

Lan WangJi looked down. All the quilts were on the floor, and hair was thrown across the face of his beloved, where it had been tossed freely by the motion of his head and body. The shaking limbs had not been a tree, although his dream-addled mind had insisted it was so. They were Wei WuXian's slim wrists, held in Lan WangJi's hands, while his husband arched and shook in a full-body seizure, his frame bowing until his head and heels were all that touched the mattress.

"Get Healer Shui!" commanded Lan WangJi and the apprentice raced from the Jingshi, possibly the first time in his life to move so quickly. A few scant minutes and a tousle-headed Healer was in the room, in his night robes with his boots on the wrong feet, testimony to his urgent response.

"Help him!" cried Lan WangJi, even as Wei WuXian's body finally subsided onto the bed, with the first sound he had made since his injury. His eyes flew wide then rolled back and closed once more as a single strangled cry escaped a tortured throat. Then there was silence. Lan WangJi grabbed for Wei WuXian's wrist, even as the Healer did also, fortunately grasping the other one. The two men exchanged looks, Lan WangJi questioning, and Healer Shui reassuring, as he moved into a more thorough examination. At last, Healer Shui nodded to the apprentice, who had slunk shame-facedly in behind his master. The apprentice began to fix Wei WuXian's robes and quilts about him.

Oh. Gold.

There was Gold.

Just a flash of it and gone again.

It was reassuring. Reason enough to keep on moving. He sped up to a run again.

Heat drove against his skin, but he could feel his feet now. He was clothed in dark smoky raiment and Gold was waiting. Gold was his. He was Gold's.

'Mine,' he thought again, the word bringing an encompassing sense of rightness, and he pressed onward.

He would find his Gold or die trying.

Healer Shui made a few notes, while Wei WuXian was restored to rest by his apprentice, closely watched by Lan WangJi. Finally, the Healer waved the apprentice away.

"Take your rest. I will remain the rest of the night in case there are any more seizures." Healer Shui turned to Lan WangJi.

"I won't lie to you, HanGuang-Jun." he began. "A seizure of this magnitude is not a small thing. It can damage the mind as well as the body. Master Wei's vitals remain strong, and the wound just now looks like it is healing well. Probably another day and it will be nothing at all anymore. The seizures, though..." the Healer shook his head. "I don't know why these are happening. There's no sign of infection and no head injury that we can tell. Right now, all we can do is watch and wait."

And so they did. All through the night the men watched. And waited. By morning light, they were exhausted, and Wei WuXian had undergone five further seizures of increasing magnitude. When a servant brought the morning meal to the Jingshi they were dispatched with a request for Healer Zhang to please call at the Jingshi. His greater experience was required.

Lan WangJi insisted on attending to Wei WuXian's morning care personally. He needed the reassurance of touch. Of seeing that his husband's body was healing, despite the fear-filled night. A basin of warm water with healing herbs and a soft cloth were brought, and Lan WangJi gently cleaned Wei WuXian's skin. The cloth moved easily around skinny limbs, lax without their owner in command of them. The torso had healed well, only the pink of tender new skin indicating where the evil gash had scored across his belly, the pin-point piercings completely healed. A stubborn smudge on his chest refused to give way to Lan WangJi's careful scrubbing, as did some markings on his legs and back. Perhaps he bruised in the seizures, thought Lan WangJi, moving on. Broad shoulders, and a too-sharp jaw received attention. He's so thin even his shoulders look wider in contrast, thought Lan WangJi, sorrowing at the state of his husband's body, clearly suffering from deprivation, despite all his efforts to care for him. All the while tiny tremors shifted from one place to another, disturbing first this hand, then that foot, never stopping. Finally, with fresh bandages to protect fragile skin and clean robes for comfort, Lan WangJi brought the quilts about his husband, tucking them with care to try to keep them in place a little longer.

Healer Zhang arrived at the Jingshi in concert with Lan SiZhui, not long after Lan WangJi had resettled to his place above Wei WuXian. Lan WangJi held a comb in hand, trying to undo the snarls caused by the tossing during the night's seizures. After greeting Lan WangJi, Healer Zhang conferred with Healer Shui, going over records and getting his verbal report on their patient's condition. When he felt he was up to speed, he turned to face the bedchamber. It was a perfect Healer's vision.

A pristine bed, with a patient recumbent, lying still and covered with smooth quilts. An attentive carer, gently combing their long hair. The morning light slipped in the window, illuminating the scene with a soft radiance. In his white robes, Lan WangJi truly embodied his title of HanGuang-Jun, practically glowing, every ounce of his concentration focused solely on Wei WuXian, lying unawares before him.

As the Healer began to step towards Lan WangJi, yet another seizure took violent hold. The worst seizure yet. Wei WuXian was helpless as his muscles flexed and contracted, and his body heaved back and forth upon the bed. The quilts slipped once more to the floor, as Lan WangJi placed his hands on Wei WuXian's shoulders, desperate to keep him on the mattress lest he dash himself to death upon the hard floor. Again, the perfect archer's bow posture, head and heels to the mattress and all else straining to leave it, arching as if to fly away into the sky and leave the earth behind. All the while the ripples and tremors over each limb, as if the insides were trying to escape, attempting to leave this prison of a body. Finally, another broken cry, another vanishing glimpse of silver eyes, wide and unseeing, and it was over. All that remained was the dishevelled bed and the patient on it.

"Are they always like this? So violent?" asked Healer Zhang.

"Yes," answered Healer Shui, stepping up behind him. "Although his pulses are strong and he has healed well, the seizures are getting stronger, and I can't find any cause. There's no fever or any sign of an infection or injury, other than we already know. No head injury. After a seizure these small tremors," he paused and pointed out the strange, crawling motions beneath the skin, "these remain. They don't ever go away."

"No other injury. No fever..." Healer Zhang stroked his chin in thought as he looked at their patient. Once again, his hair had been flung across his face, and his body had come to rest in a spread-eagle position, hands open, palms to the sky, elbows and knees straight with feet flung wide. Wei WuXian looked as if he were trying to float upon the mattress, like a leaf would float downriver in his childhood home of Yunmeng.

"HanGuang-Jun," began Healer Zhang.

Lan WangJi looked up, quickly wiping his face dry with the corner of his sleeve. Seeing Wei WuXian suffer was wearing away at the Jade, and the tears he rarely shed were close to the surface.

"Since Healer Shui can find no other cause, I would like to consider the possibility that Wei WuXian has been exposed to some kind of toxin," Healer Zhang continued. "Perhaps you would allow Healer Shui and Lan SiZhui to make Master Wei more comfortable while you show me where he has worked lately. Perhaps we will find something to help us with his treatment."

Lan WangJi nodded. Standing, he looked at his husband, lying helpless and injured. His gut twisted. His Wei Ying had taken harm on himself to help the Grandmaster. He had known Lan WangJi would refuse to allow it and taken steps to stop his possible interference, and now Wei WuXian lay abed with two Healers unsure what to do. You must get better, he thought to himself. I love you. I meant what I said. If I must, I will follow you to the Underworld. Wei Ying, I can't be without you again. Please, Wei Ying. Please.

Healer Shui moved to Wei WuXian's bedside while Lan SiZhui brought fresh robes. Lan WangJi gestured for Healer Zhang to follow him.

Lan WangJi led Healer Zhang into the workroom. The two men made an inspection of the desk first, careful to refrain from touching anything, the Yin Iron in the small dish looking surprisingly innocent for such an evil material. Healer Zhang took careful note of what materials appeared to have been moved, and inspected the bowls and other utensils, looking for signs of contamination or spillage. Wei WuXian was known to be always a chaotic and mischievous man, but it appeared he was meticulous in his handling of herbs and potions. Careful examination revealed no potential exposure that should have led to the seizure activity.

Finally, Healer Zhang shook his head and turned to Lan WangJi.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Master Wei appears to have been diligent in his use of materials. I don't see anything here that would result in seizures. I just don't know what could be causing them."

Lan WangJi huffed in frustration, then looked into the Healer's eyes.

"Just look after Wei Ying," was all he said.

Turning to re-enter the Jingshi, it was immediately apparent that a fair bit of time had passed. It must have been nearing midday, and the place was flooded with bright light from the many windows and the paper-covered door. Like they always did, always would, Lan WangJi's eyes first sought out his husband in the bedchamber, as he crossed the floor, only to stop cold in his tracks.

A random ray of harsh sunlight slanted in the window beside the bed, alighting on Wei WuXian's face. Healer Shui had restored the bedding and Lan SiZhui had brushed the hair from where it had obscured Wei WuXian's face. His face. The face, now bathed in brightest light, casting sharp shadows. A straight nose. An angular jaw. Lan SiZhui stood like a statue, in shock as he faced his Father Wei, murmuring over and over again, "Xian-Ge... Xian-Ge? Xian-Ge!"

Lan WangJi stood where he had stopped, swaying slightly, as colour drained from his own face. He didn't hear the Healers speaking to him, nor did he feel them tugging at his hands, arms going about his shoulders lest he fall. He didn't breathe. All his focus, every ounce of his concentration was on that beloved face. That face he had known he would never see again. The face that lived only in his memory and sometimes in precious dreams, too soon gone on awakening.

Lan WangJi's lungs fought for air as his vision began to darken at the edges. There was no energy to spare for something as mundane as merely breathing. His mind warred within, reality and fantasy colliding and igniting. He felt his fingers prickle and his feet go numb as ice clawed its way into his skin. Finally, his knees buckled and he fell, as his mind refused to allow the impossible his eyes had seen.

The dark was comforting as it claimed him.