Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Did Himeko really have to call a meeting this early?” March sighed. “It’s like, way-too-early-to-be-up in the morning!” What sane person was even awake at eight-thirty in the morning? Stelle chuckled at that, responding with a tired sigh. “Yeah, I wish I could’ve been in bed still…” 

March lifted her hand to knock on the last door they passed, the one to the data bank. “Well, can’t really blame Dan Heng for sleeping in then…” After March knocked, a sudden silence fell, both of the girls perking their ears to listen for an answer from inside.

The sliding door wasn’t locked, they both knew, just like their own doors weren’t either. They politely waited the few seconds it took for an answer to come. “I’ll be there in a moment.” His voice was muffled, but clear enough, though less steady than always. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

Something vaguely felt off, Stelle thought, overthinking as always. March, as thoughtless as ever, moved to leave, to join the other two at the breakfast table and wait there very impatiently. Stelle would’ve joined her and skipped out of the door if she could’ve shaken off that feeling of unease. Something in her mind stopped her from leaving immediately.

Stelle pondered her options for a moment, as she tended to do. She could’ve just done what he basically asked them to do, to leave Dan Heng be, alone in his room. She thought he probably thought they hadn’t noticed, the way he seemed more tired, spending more time alone, and generally spent less time just… being with the other members of the Astral Express. There was a pang of sadness in Stelle’s chest as she realized he had been like that since the events that unfolded on the Xianzhou Luofu.

She prayed to the Aeons that she was making the right decision, and quietly slid open the door. “I’m coming in, alright?” No answer. Something cold settled in her stomach. March’s fading footsteps paused as she turned around by the carriage door, a question on her lips. Stelle quickly shot her a sign to be silent, raising her finger to her lips, knowing how unintentionally loud March could be. She slipped inside and closed the door before anything else could happen, ignoring March’s confused look. She had probably wanted to head straight for the breakfast table, and steal all the strawberries.

The door sliding shut again had cut off the only source of light, she realized a bit awkwardly. It was dark inside, save for a couple small lights on the data bank, which made sense because most people preferred to sleep in the dark. The partially repurposed room was still mostly empty, she knew, and every footstep felt way too loud, even barefoot as she still was. Her eyes adjusted to the dark after a few seconds, and Stelle could start to make out the two steps leading to the elevated floor at the other end, knowing it swirled with calming water patterns. 

She kept her left hand on the railing, still moving carefully. Dan Heng must have noticed her entering the room, but he did not react, nor tell her to go away again. That made her guts twist with worry all the more, as she approached the dark form sitting curled up on the bed. This close, she could hear his uneven breathing, sounding dangerously close to sobs.

Kneeling down on the floor beside the mattress, she could see the blanket he’d drawn around his shoulders, like a cocoon, yet not managing to hide the way his shoulders shook. She didn’t speak, simply because she had no clue what to say, instead choosing to settle a hand on his arm. Having no clue if this was the right thing, she moved hesitantly and carefully, nerves buzzing. This was unknown territory. 

They had seen many things on their expeditions together, helping and getting to know the others better, but never had Stelle seen one of them so… vulnerable, save for that one time March had caught a cold on Jarilo-XI and spent days whining about it from beneath piles of blankets. It felt not wrong , but odd. Something she logically knew, but had never applied to reality. She’d seen the older members as steady presences, always there, but failed to register that they too might have their moments of weakness, especially here, in the train, their safe home. And that they deserved comfort on their turn too.

It seemed her worries were unfounded, as Stelle could feel Dan Heng lean into her touch before he seemed to realize it, and he took a deep, shuddering breath. Stelle itched to just give him a hug. He seemed to not mind it, despite not being a touchy person. She wrapped her other arm around him too, and Dan Heng finally reacted, lifting his head from his knees, his translucent horns reflecting the few little lights in the dim room.

Stelle took that moment to pull him into a proper hug, shifting closer but still bending a bit awkwardly but she didn’t mind, holding him close. Steady, not too tight, but a stable presence, telling him that it’s alright . Or at least, she hoped those intentions were getting properly conveyed. A bad dream, she suspected, not unfamiliar with nightmares herself.

Dan Heng gave in quickly, returning the hug and hiding his face in Stelle’s shoulder with hitching breaths. Stelle placed a gentle hand on the back of his head, feeling something protective stirring in her chest at that, even more so when sobs shook his shoulders again, his control from earlier slipping. She wondered how many times he’d suffered through moments like these alone, and held him even closer. She sat there, on a thin mattress that could barely be called a proper bed, and knew she would do anything for him. She would move the stars if it meant protecting those who loved her. Her hand combed through his hair absentmindedly. It was as silky smooth as it looked.

The door slid open, a strip of light peeking in and blinding Stelle just enough that when it closed again, she saw absolutely nothing. March tried her best at being quiet, Stelle was absolutely sure, and it went well up to the point where she miscalculated the distance of the step, stubbed her toe, bumped against the railing, and hissed some cosmic profanities before quickly biting her tongue.

“What’s wrong?” She whispered, slightly too loud but Dan Heng didn’t seem to be bothered. Perhaps he was too busy trying to pull together some semblance of his normal and composed self. March sat herself down next to Stelle’s outstretched legs, her light hair and shirt making her a distinguishable yet blurry blob, gradually sharpening as her vision adjusted to the dark again after staring into the bright hallway.

She was considering answering March’s question on his behalf, when Dan Heng spoke up. “Just a nightmare.” He whispered, voice hoarse. March made a noise of empathy, and shifted to hug him from the other side, one of her hands intertwining with Stelle’s. “It’ll be alright,” She hummed, “We’re here now, and we’ll give you all the hugs you need. No need to be sad anymore!” She struggled keeping her voice down at the end. Stelle couldn’t see her, but she was sure March was giving one of her signature assuring grins. Stelle found herself smiling too. March was like a sun, radiating positive energy as she always was, chasing away the chilly feeling that had settled within her. Together, they would be alright.

“I- I appreciate it,” He sounded like he wanted to say more, but his voice failed him, breaking into sobs as if simply speaking those words had finally opened the floodgates.

(…)

He could’ve handled everything perfectly fine by himself, he thought. And he had, time again and again, crumbled and pulled himself back together in dark rooms where nobody was looking. But in the Astral Express crew, Dan Heng had found true friends (again). Maybe something more, a makeshift, slightly dysfunctional family of sorts. Despite their mutual trust, he had never trusted them with the dark, hidden parts of himself that threatened to claw out of his memory at night. He was the guard, saving and protecting the others, never expecting that in return too, because there was no need.

Until the events that unfolded on the Xianzhou Luofu not too long ago. The pain when he’d gotten stabbed through the heart paled in comparison to what he’d felt when he finally found the other two. There were way too many things happening that day, but he wouldn’t forget the look in March’s eyes as he tried to convince her that he was still him, still Dan Heng, with little control over his newly rediscovered powers, and looking like the person he was in a past life. Someone Dan Heng did not fully remember, but haunted him either way.

Haunted him for the longest time in dreams of red eyes and being hunted, leaving him panting and panicked with more questions than answers because he did not remember . He was not the person Blade believed him to be, in the same way that Blade wasn’t the Yingxing that Dan Feng once knew. Still, there were those vague memories of nights long ago spent exactly like this. The details slipped away, but the feeling remained.

After trailblazing together for such a long time as they had, Welt and Himeko had caught on at some point. They never pointed it out unless Dan Heng brought up the subject himself, but they knew when he was having a worse day, to which he would receive a reassuring hand on his shoulder or a warm cup of tea. He never asked for more.

It was different for the newest two members, full of energy, always bouncing around, whether figuratively or literally. He didn’t need to be a burden to them, especially when it was just him and the two girls. That responsibility was something he gladly took. That time Stelle held his hand in the Shackling Prison was as much for her own comfort as for his, he told himself. He ignored the way the phantom warmth of the touch had lingered after, burning with some kind of hunger.

That same warmth was now all around him, enveloping him like the safe waters of a homeland he did not remember. Safe. They trusted him, and in return he trusted them with everything that he was. He didn’t need to talk just yet, that conversation was one to be saved for a later date. He felt safe, he felt complete, and it’s both the worst and best Dan Heng has ever felt. His head hurt, but someone was gently carding their fingers through his hair and it helped and he didn’t want them to stop.

The touch brought him back to his own body, curled up and hidden away in a hug, tears falling from his eyes and soaking into Stelle’s shirt. He was too tired to feel anything beyond mild embarrassment. They shouldn’t see him like this, a stubborn voice told him. (They couldn’t really, in the dark. Technically.) It was dark, he knew, even if he had lifted his head and opened his eyes. It felt slightly surreal and he just hoped it wouldn’t turn out to be a dream. He could feel his consciousness starting to float away again, time slipping between his fingers as he continued to take unsteady breaths.

The hand that had been untangling his hair shifted, tracing one of his horns with careful curiosity. It seemed like March’s curiosity had finally won. He felt a small smile curve his lips. Dan Heng’s horns weren’t particularly sensitive, but it was still an odd feeling, as they were directly connected to his skull. Odd, but not unpleasant, he realized, with a shiver. It was calming.

Gradually, the panic faded and he was left just tired, above anything else. His breathing settled with the calm of the two girls. They didn’t let go. Someone tucked the blanket up over his shoulders again.

(...)

Nobody noticed when the door silently slid open again. The hall lights were dim, but made the room’s interior slightly more visible. Himeko peered in, confused as to where they went, as simply asking him to come should take a couple minutes at most. 

She looked around for a second or two, and smiled at the sight. Himeko closed the door again without saying anything.