No one except this man has ever helped him up. Everyone else either simply didn't care, saw him as just a tool and fixed him up only enough that he was useful to them before being cast aside again. But not this precious, perfect angel.

That he'd destroyed, and realized how he felt far too late to stop...anything. Here in Gazin, he has Xiao Xingchen back. And here, there are nights where he lies awake, just staring at the other man. Watching his chest rise and fall, proving he's alive.

Sitting up where Xingchen wants him, Xue Yang is barely able to breathe as he waits, holding still. Watches. Pricks of pain as Xingchen runs light hands over his wounded arm are ignored. Then completely forgotten as the other man's arms gently curl around him. Pull him close until it feels far too natural to rest his forehead against Xingchen's shoulder. Breath still too fast.

"I'm used to pain," he answers automatically. "I can handle it." If he keeps telling himself that, it becomes true right?

He shudders a little, digging fingernails into palms before he pulls back slightly. He slowly reaches up, fingers uncurling on one hand to very lightly brush over Xingchen's cheek. "I just...want you to be happy again...See you smile. Hear you laugh.

"Nothing else matters."