Another squeeze of his hands around hers, and he started walking. Around them, the fog that'd been within the trees, that strangeness of dancing coloured lights weaving through, the sensations of emotions and memories, became stifling.

He held on and walked, anchored back to the train and allowing his determination to flow both directions, compartmentalising everything else away. Nell could feel along that connection, be aware of them being grounded to the train, feel whatever Wei Wuxian was letting himself feel, but it meant she was open to: that when the voices called for her not to go, when they asked why she would leave, why fight, why not let go, they were in voices she knew, familiarities of hers.

Wei Wuxian didn't have to speak, though he still did. "You leave to come back later, in the right way. Don't forget why you need to truly be home. Not like this, a spirit outside your body."

Onward he walked, trusting in that anchored sense of himself, wondering what it really meant when quite likely this was a projection of spirit, rather than his spirit, doing all this collecting of her. Just how fragile were their tethers in present circumstance?