When It All Comes Crashing Down

by Winter_weather2021

Chapter 6: Red Headed, or Red Handed?

Notes:

(Peeks out from behind a wall) ... Heyyyyyyyy... Wassaaaaaap...

Sorry that I, like, disappeared into the Aether for a while (no pun intended), Starting Uni is not as easy as one would think.

Anyway, NEW CHAPTER!!! WOOHOOOOOO!!! SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG, PLEASE DO NOT EXPECT THE NEXT CHAPTER ANY TIME SOON EITHER!!!

Also, shoutout to my friend senbro, it's their birthday!!! Happy Birthday bro, please enjoy the chapter :3

∼∼≺ ༄ ≻∽∽

 

 

In retrospect, Childe should have expected that something was wrong from the very moment he had reached out to Pulcinella’s office. It was careless of him.

 

…

 

“He’s still gone?” Childe dumbly asked the lady on the other end of the phone.

 

“I am afraid that is correct, Mr. Tartaglia. Apologies for the inconvenience. Although, he should be returning soon. Would you like to leave a message?” The secretary politely inquired…

 

As she had done the last three times he had called.

 

The harbinger scrunched up his brows in thought. “… No, that's alright. Just… let him know I was looking for him.”

 

“Very well, Mr. Tartaglia. Have a good day.” 

 

His thumb pressed the ‘end call’ button, the hand holding his phone hovering thoughtfully in the air. Apprehension pulled at his mind, and contemplation hooded his eyes…

 

Ever since the phone call an hour ago, Childe had remained rooted on his couch, staring up at the room’s dull, plastered ceiling. Lost in thought, he idly flipped his phone in one hand, while the other busied itself cushioning his head. 

 

… Pulcinella's long-standing secretary had served him dutifully for years. Childe had known her since his youth, having spent every waking hour of his inauguration into the Fatui by the Rooster’s side. He had no reason to doubt her words. 

 

But it was unlike Pulcinella to leave for business unannounced, let alone for so long. The more… sessile harbingers tended to greatly value punctuality and meticulousness. Time was money, after all, and they could afford flippancy when faced with a plethora of shitty marketing proposals that could never hope to even grasp their attention. In the end, with their power and influence, they knew that good deals would always come to them on their own terms; They always had the last laugh. 

 

So Pullcinella's sudden, unplanned absence was weird, to say the least. How important could this matter possibly be?

 

Childe stupidly shrugged the matter off and chalked it up to some grandiose business opportunity that the man couldn't possibly pass up. Despite the hindrance it posed, there was little the redhead could do about it. In the meantime, he ceased his fidgeting and shot Aether a few texts to update the blonde on his status, uncaring of the fact that it was long past midnight in Liyue. Unsurprisingly, however, he was soon smirking at the simple ‘thumbs up’ emoji he got in response a few minutes later. Archons knew that the man's sleeping schedule was abysmal.

 

And that was that. It should have been the end of the conversation. Yet, Childe still hovered over the keyboard on the screen, reserved, yet anxious. 

 

… His fingers moved before he could think better of what he was doing. 

 

You

10:41 pm

How’s the gremlin?

 

Childe watched the status of his text change from ‘delivered’ to ‘read’, his eyes never budging from the screen. In a few seconds, the telltale jumping dots signalled Aether’s prompt response. 

 

Star Bright

10:41 pm

He collapsed again when we had just arrived, but Dr. Baizhu managed to stabilize him relatively quickly.

10:41 pm

He's better now. You know hwo it is

10:42 pm

How*

 

Well, he wasn’t dead, and knowing that was enough for Childe. Deciding that a response was unnecessary, he switched off his phone, allowing it to unceremoniously flop onto his chest. He suppressed a yawn with the back of his hand, but a tired sound managed to slip past, nonetheless. Stretching his limbs over the armrest, his vertebrae quietly popped at the temporary relief. The couch’s rigid surface had been unkind to his spine for what must have been over an hour already. Sick of the bodily abuse, Childe heaved himself up and tossed his legs off the edge of the horrendous furniture, briskly getting to his feet. He ought to redecorate his designated room in the Fatui’s Lodge. Pantalone’s preference in amenities was too clinical and… The redhead couldn't even say practical, not when his stiff muscles and joints cried out in protest. The banker’s inclination to this style might have been Dottore’s influence.

 

… Even though he hated to admit it, Childe had to give credit to the doctor where it was due. The man was thorough. They found virtually nothing in his lair. The three of them had managed to walk out of there with a grand total of two things: the knowledge of Dottore’s unhealthy mora consumption, and some half-baked theories on how Pulcinella was tied to all of it.

 

Whatever. It wasn't like he could speak with the old man now, anyway. Childe dragged his feet towards his bathroom, and upon his arrival, plucked his toothbrush from its designated cup. He proceeded to go through a mundane nightly routine: Brush his teeth. Hop into the shower for a few minutes. Dry himself off. Dress. Straight to bed. 

 

Childe huddled into the sheets, seeking to warm the place as soon as possible. The weather was beginning to take a turn for the worse, and the lodge’s heating system was progressively struggling to stave off the cold invading from the outdoors. The more tolerable temperatures of Snezhnaya would soon bid them farewell until summer deigned to show it's face. 

 

He lay there restlessly as the frigid atmosphere stubbornly ignored his body heat, and - regrettably - beckoned to an intrusive thought. The harbinger inhaled sharply, and tried to push the unwelcomed conception from his mind. But it was too late, it had already nestled itself comfortably, nagging at him. 

 

…

 

Now that Childe thought about it, when was the last time he had shared a bed with someone? If memory served him right, it must have been before-

 

… Liyue. 

 

Unhelpfully, his traitorous brain supplied a very vivid image of a certain brunette laying by his side - an intimate fantasy he had conjured up on the regular before. Amber eyes bored into Childe with an unexplained emotion that he would prefer to never dissect. At the horrifying - yet familiar - sensation of a faint blush forming on the apples of his cheeks, the redhead groaned in frustration, all wistfulness quickly swapped out for bitter disgruntlment. 

 

Curse this mission. Just at the mere mention of his name, the man didn’t hesitate to greedily consume Childe’s every waking moment. He wriggled in like a lecherous parasite, the harbinger’s efforts placed into forgetting him be damned. Childe didn't have to speak with him, let alone see him. In this encounter, the man known as ‘Zhongli’ would just be a moniker brought up in passing. A concept. An idea. The redhead would simply have to stomach the sharp twist in his gut brought about by the thought. It was irrelevant. 

 

Right. He needed to fall asleep as soon as possible, lest he spiralled even deeper into unavailing delusions. Despite his wishes, his restlessness stirred the stillness of his room, making the air buzz as it absorbed his unease well into the night. 

 

When morning finally came, Childe - by some miracle - hopped out of bed at six in the morning like clock-work, ignoring his haggardness induced by his lack of sleep. He had no particular reason to be awake at the ass-crack of dawn, having been hit by an unexpected lull in his duties as a Fatui harbinger. Any normal person would have taken the opportunity to sleep in, or pass the time with something 'fun'.

 

Fun… A devious smirk pulled at the redhead's mouth. Monitoring a disgruntled doctor sounded like fun. The thought of the infernal look on his fellow harbinger's face last week was enough to have him erupt in abrupt cackles.

 

Just because the redhead had hit a road block in his investigation on Dottore, it didn't mean he would let the sycophantic bastard prolong his operations unsupervised. Childe had already been documenting the doctor's every step, every breath, since his first call to Pulcinella resulted in absolute zilch.

 

Having set his sights on his next goal, Childe didn’t waste another second before getting ready and setting off to his office in S.C.S., or better known as 'Snehopad Contracting Services'. The Fatui's cover business.

 

Despite its criminal nature, S.C.S. was still a legitimate company that provided varying types of services all across Teyvat. They dabbled in marketing, security, consulting, equipment rental, and even renovations and remodelling services. The main function of the business was to pull in money to fund the Fatui’s operations on top of the profits made by Northland Bank. However, S.C.S. also proved to be useful in providing day-jobs for some of the Fatui’s members, aiding them in staying under the radar from law enforcement. Approximately half of the staff in the enterprise were Fatui agents, Childe being one of them. When he wasn’t busy carrying out the organization’s more… illicit activities, he worked as a happy-go-lucky corporate liaison, building trust and relations with companies from all over the world. 

 

… Not that the fatui didn't already have half of the police force in their pocket anyway, by virtue of Pulcinella's influence.

 

Of course, his workload had only doubled after the colossal screw-up his late colleague, Signora, made during her last mission in Inazuma two years ago. With her gone, it had been difficult for the business to find someone who could fill her shoes. None of the new corporate liaisons ever really stuck. As a result, more often than not, it fell upon the redhead to pick up the slack during those times in between new hires. They still had to maintain peak company performance, even if this job was meant to simply be a cover. The despicable hag still managed to be a pain in Childe’s ass, even from the grave.

 

Childe waltzed into the corporate headquarters, bright smile glued to his face as he greeted passing colleagues, even stopping to exchange a few pleasantries with some of the more gregarious individuals.


He continued on just like that, strutting down the hallways until his office door was in sight, right beside the door belonging to a certain new, trustworthy associate.

 

Childe boisterously barged into her office and planted himself on the edge of the woman's desk, leaning a hand dangerously close to the spread of documents neatly stacked before her. "Morning! What is my favorite colleague up to today?"

 

Ekaterina, to her credit, didn't even flicker here eyes away from the paper she was scrutinizing, and simply replied. "I am your only associate working in this branch."

 

"And that's why you're my favorite. So far, you've stuck around longer than the last six!"

 

Despite her dead-panned voice, an amused smile curved at the corners of her mouth. "What can I assist you with today, Mr. Belevich?"

 

He stood from the table, wordlessly stalking up to her door - which he had left ajar - to close it. When it resolutely clicked shut, only then did Childe deem it safe enough to speak. "Any updates to speak of?"


The woman shook her head. "The doctor has been busy with the investigations assigned to him by Pakhan. No noteworthy changes to relay, sir."

 

That was right. Recently, someone had been stirring trouble around fatui bases, generating kinks in their activities. With Capitano's departure a few months back, enforcing the movements and plans of the organization had become quite a task. Smaller gangs had thought that they could try their hand at sniffing around their operations, looking for opportunities to snatch some profits for themselves. A slight inconvenience, but an inconvenience nonetheless. The Tsaritsa wanted it gone.

 

Hence, it was no surprise that she had sent out the big guns to deal with the matter swiftly. Childe hummed noncommittally. "I see. That's good."

 

"I've also compiled all the details into a written report." She pulled out a file from within her drawer, and held it up in offering. "Have a read."

 

Childe plucked the file from her hands, shooting her a sickeningly sweet smile. "How am I so deserving of such a considerate subordinate?"

 

"I was simply assigned to you, sir."

 

"Celestia above- drop the formalities, would you? I'm not like the other stuck up old pricks!"

 

"Right…." Ekaterina cleared her throat, dropping her professional tone for something more genuine. "Sir, might I inquire as to reason behind the recent interest in The Doctor?"

 

Childe's gaze snapped back from skimming the report, waving his hand dismissively. "Just a hunch I want to corroberate. If I'm right, I'll fill you in on the details, so don't stress over it."

 

The woman's face frowned with concern. "Are you sure you want to be meddling in his affairs? He's… tricky." She hesitantly vocalized. Childe cocked his head to the side, a reassuring smile playing at his lips. "I've spent enough time around sleazy types like him. I know how to hold my own against them. He may be shrewd, but at the end of the day he is just a man. He bruises and bleeds just like any of us."

 

Ekaterina sighed at the thinly veiled threat Childe had spouted out last. "I need a coffee." She stood from her place behind her desk and beelined for the exit, clearly fed up with his self-detrimental confidence.

 

"Oh, get me one too! Hold the-"

 

"Hold the sugar, I know."

 

The redhead trailed behind her - just until he reached the door, leaning against it's frame - so that she was within earshot of his next words. "I'll be in my room!" He shouted after her, certain that she heard him despite her lack of acknowledgment. With nothing better to do, he proceeded to retreat into his own office, pushing out an exaggerated sigh as he slipped into his seat, preparing to catch up on his paperwork for the week. With no current Fatui duties to speak of, he could finally dedicate some time to his 'normal' job.

 

Starting was always the tedious part. Anyone who knew Childe would know that the man would sooner combust in a mess of flesh and flames than sit behind a desk, partaking in mundane tasks. However, within minutes, the redhead was able to find his flow. Further motivated by the incoming cup of coffee brought in by Ekaterina, the harbinger was prepared to tackle his work with the utmost dedication for the next few hours.


However, two hours in, a quick succession of knocks resounded crisply from his door. “Come in.” Childe voiced distractedly, still hyperfixated on the documents before him. 

 

The door opened to a young woman clearing her throat as she gingerly stepping into his office and shut the door after herself. “Mr. Tartaglia, Pakhan wants to see you.” 

 

This had Childe pausing halfway through the sentence he had been reading at the sound of his harbinger title. So she was a Fatui messenger. The redhead slowly placed the papers in his hand down onto the table, and stashed his pen back into his pen cup. "Did she say what for?"

 

The woman shook her head, and a wave of uneasy curiosity washed over the redhead. What could she want? He nodded his head, hesitant and slow, before rising from his seat. "I will come right away."

 

He circled around his desk, and walked past the Fatuus messenger, the woman stepping aside from the door and bowing her head in respect. And as he took that first step out of his office, he never would have expected the mind-boggling indignation he felt as he stood before the 'Tsaritsa', mouth helplessly ajar as he watched himself - no, it had to be some sort of doppleganger - trash a Fatui base through recovered footage from a damaged CCTV camera, plainly displayed on her 8-K UHD TV. The room was in stunned silence - save for Columbina's eerily gentle humming - thoughts and opinions kept to each selves, until the sight of 'Childe' shooting at the camera signalled the video's end, the replay button ominously illuminating the screen.

 

He was mortified. Livid. Most of all, confused. He could feel the gazes of his colleagues boring holes into his back. Pierro stood a ways off from the Tsaritsa's side with an equally hard stare. The heavy sound of an opening drawer tore Childe's eyes away from the screen and onto the desk before him, the Tsaritsa tossing some sort of papers in his direction. Upon closer inspection, they seemed to be tests of some kind.

 

"Footage of you at the crime scene." The Tsaritsa began, her voice frigid and accusatory. "Tests confirming your traces. Care to explain yourself?"

 

Childe stood there, mouth gaping as he struggled to find the words with which to rebut. “Pakhan," He began, his voice coming out hoarse and tight. "That wasn’t me."

 

"That was your face on the screen, eleventh, no one else's." Dottore stalked around from Childe's periphery, coming to stand beside the Tsaritsa's desk. "They were your fingerprints and DNA that were discovered in the bases. Not to mention, all attacks are dated on days you could not be accounted for."

 

Days he had been busy seeing what this wily shit-head had been up to. "Are we all simply going to ignore the fact that this footage could've been doctored?" The redhead pointedly asked, flashing a sharp smile at the doctor. "What reasons would I have to turn my back to the fatui like this, anyway?"

 

"We were hoping you would explain it to us." Dottore had the audacity to sound sternly disappointed, like an adult that found a kid with their hands halfway into a cookie jar. "It was you who aided 'The Traveler' and that unidentified third man break into my labs, after all."

 

Childe's blood went cold. "What?"

 

Dottore leaned over, tapping a derisive finger against the papers from before. "Read it carefully now, Tartaglia. There's more on the back."

 

Childe snatched the papers, hurriedly scanning each test as he flipped through them, before his eyes landed on the last page: Lab sample, lock of hair.

 

Dottore plucked the papers out of the redhead's hands, drawing his attention away from the offending 'evidence'. "You were there on the day of the intrusion, were you not? Pantalone can attest to that."

 

Childe whipped his head around, snapping his gazed to glare at the businessman, betrayed, sitting there all flippant and bored. Pantalone, that back-stabbing, two-faced- "I was there as a last minute precaution for his safety. It was a spontaneous event, I wouldn't have had time to plan something like this, even if I wanted to."

 

"Perhaps it was spontaneous, but that could simply be a ruse." The doctor droned on enigmatically, toying with Childe's patience.

 

"Get to the point, Dottore. Some of us have better things to be doing." Sandrone piped up querulously from behind. For once, the young harbinger was in agreeaance with his colleague.

 

"Pantalone had come to Childe seeking protection due to an attempted coup within his own circle. Whose to say that this coup hadn't been deliberately instigated to serve another purpose?"

 

Wow. Airing out the Regrator's dirty-laundry, consequences be damned. Just what kind of deal or services is Dottore providing the businessman to have him wrapped around his finger so dedicatedly? Blackmail, perhaps?

 

"Aiding and abetting an enemy of the organization. What could the two of you possibly be after, turning everything upside-down like that?" The doctor interrogated, already skewing everyone's perception to hold Childe accountable. To have him condemned.

 

Where was Pulcinella?

 

The redhead practically bristled with outrage. "This is bullshit. I don't need to explain anything, because I didn't do it." The young harbinger snapped, and turned back to face the Tsaritsa. "Pakhan, you know me. I wouldn't-"

 

She let out a sharp, heavy sigh, stopping Childe mid-sentence. "What I would like to know, is why you didn't report this incident to me sooner, Dottore."

 

Finally! Someone was asking the right questions.

 

"I hadn't realized the gravity of the situation at the time, Pakhan. I didn't want to trouble you with such a frivolous thing, especially considering how difficult things have been since the Captain's departure." The doctor spoke with infuriating calm and logic, nearly goading Childe to just launch himself at the man and simply deal with the root of this whole problem, hands-on. "Of course, once I had discovered Tartaglia's involvement, I simply couldn't keep it from you any longer."

 

Perhaps the goading was working, after all.

 

"Very well." Thankfully, the Tsaritsa's interjection snapped the redhead out of his blind rage, everyone suddenly hanging onto her every word. "Childe, you will be placed out of commission for a while, until I decide what to do with you."

 

The young harbinger's eyes blew wide open. "Pakhan-!"

"Childe." He froze as she called to him in a clipped tone, a warning, before turning into something marginally softer. "Go quietly."

 

All the fight suddenly drained from him. He bit the insides of his cheeks, lowering his gaze obediently, before answering, low and grim. "Yes, Pakhan."

 

∼∼≺ ☣ ≻∽∽

 

 

Dottore hadn’t felt such ridiculously petty satisfaction in years. It took every thread of his self-control to abate the grin that threatened to claw its way onto his face as his eyes followed Childe towards the door. 

 

As the young harbinger walked by, the homocidal daggers he shot him were a sight to behold. The man hadn’t known that their youngest was capable of expressing such palpable malice, with how coy the youth usually was. His expression promised of things that Dottore couldn't possibly take seriously at the present moment. He did entertain the thought, though, almost cackling at the prospect. However, for the sake of appearances, he forced himself to refrain. 

 

The Knave was scrutinizing him, after all. 

 

The younger kept glaring at him until distance begrudgingly forced him to whip his head back to see where he was going. However, Dottore’s gaze remained fixed onto the tense manner with which the redhead moved, exuding all of his underlying hostility. Only when the door had finally clicked shut did he snap out of his internal smug parade and turn back to face the Tsaritsa. “It is regrettable that I had to come to you bearing such unfortunate news, Pakhan, but I simply couldn't turn a blind eye.” Dottore spoke with false remorse. 

 

“Pakhan, if I may,” Arlecchino cut in, “Although the state of things remain enigmatic, I find it hard to believe that Tartaglia-” 

 

The Tsaritsa lifted her hand, a silent command, and the Knave was quick to cut herself off. She glanced over her right shoulder, eyeing the Jester as if exchanging an unheard conversation with the man. After a quick pause, she stood and regarded Dottore with a solemn look. 

 

“I acknowledge your contributions to this organization, Doctor. However,” Her eyes moved to settle on Arlecchino. “I am in agreement with you. Childe’s loyalty is not to be taken lightly. I will look into the matter myself.” She stalked towards her window, gaze fixed at the entrance of the building, likely waiting to see familiar auburn hair appear from there, still being escorted by the Fatui grunts. 

 

Pantalone suddenly piped up. "Not to undermine the Fatui's forces, Pakhan, but shouldn't someone more… competent be escorting Childe?"

 

The Tsaritsa shook her head. "If he is innocent, he will not retaliate. I believe in our mutual trust to sort through this smoothly."

 

The seven of them stood there in a moment of stillness, awaiting any further orders or requests from the Tsaritsa. Columbina still hummed as she fiddled with the hems of Sandrone's sleeves, Pantalone crossed a leg over the other, boredome making his face go lax, and Pierro remained off to the side, brooding as always. However, the pause lasted longer than it should have. Dottore watched as a miniscule frown began to pull at the Tsaritsa's brow. If he were to hazard a guess, Tartaglia still hadn’t emerged as expected.

 

This was it. The moment of truth. 

 

The doors to the room suddenly burst open, a winded Fatui guard rushing in, panicked. “P-Pakhan! It’s Tartaglia - He’s escaped!!!” 

 

Only in the midst of all the commotion did Dottore finally permit a small, pointed smile to pull at his lips. 

 

Predictable, as always.

 

 

∼∼≺ ༄ ≻∽∽

 

 

"Take the alleyways outside! You, come search the halls with me! Spread out, and don't leave a single corner unsearched. Tartaglia must be found!!!"

 

The once silent and drowsy Fatui headquarters now stirred with the commotion of guards scrambling about like headless chickens. They were appalled, stricken, and embarassingly unfocused, given that they had yet to realize that the harbinger they were desperately searching for was right under their noses.

 

Childe had never been more grateful of his youthful appearance. Masked and disguised, he was able to successfuly blend in like a chameleon among the new, green recruits. However, he still had a ways to go before he was out of the woods. So, in the interest of making it out of here undetected, he affirmed with the Fatui's security detail in unison, saluting with unrivaled passion. "Yes, sir!"

 

Thankfully, he had been assigned to the outdoor search; there were only so many excuses he had left to conjured up before his fellow guards began to question his reasons for wearing his fur-padded hood indoors. He'd rather take his chances with the cold.

 

Stepping through the doors, the men were greeted by an unforgiving gust of frigid air, the element swiftly weaving and twisting its way into every crevice of their heavy winter coats. However, where the others found an obnoxious nuisance, Childe grinned at the refreshing prospect of escaping scot-free.

 

Well, perhaps it would have been more accurate to phrase it as 'delayed repentance'. But those were semantics that could be debated upon later.

 

Lagging behind the two lackeys that had been sent outside with him, Childe snatched his opportunity once they turned the corner to a more secluded and closed off area. He could only hope that someone found them before they froze to death. The most he could do in the current circumstances was to prop them up against a wall side by side, if only to grant them what little heat they could provide one another.

 

Thankfully, the rest of his escape went on without a hitch. He got his hands on a car, and by some miracle that could have only been imposed by the archons themselves, managed to bypass security and drive straight out of the front gates of the Fatui headquarters.

 

Childe mentally manifested a fine set of double birds directed at none other than Dottore.

 

Once out of the guards' range of sight, Childe didn't hesitate to step on the gas, beelining straight for the main city. Upon arrival, he abandoned his car in a local parking lot and proceeded the rest of the way on foot, casting the occational glance behind him to ensure he wasn't being followed. His legs carried him down two blocks - a left, a right - until he finally reached the street he had been looking for.

 

Turning the corner into another alleyway, Childe tossed one last look over his shoulder before allowing himself to relax, finally certain that he was alone. His eyes returned back to the scene before him, somewhat sad and desolate, save for a singular car that resided there. It didn't have the same luxury as the salted alleyway, given the impressively thick layer of gentle snow that accumulated on the car's roof and hood. The engine was probably frozen beyond repair from Snezhnaya's unforgiving weather, and the paint-work that was hiding beneath the cold, white veil was undoubtedly aged and peeling. In a neighborhood that is accustomed to abandoned things, this vehicle was truly forgotten by the world. But not by Childe. The redhead was happy to see that the car remained perfectly untouched since the last time he had seen it. It meant that his counter-measures could still be put to use.

 

Pushing aside the heavy mass of snow that had comfortably settled on the vehicle's back, Childe popped the trunk open to find it unassumingly empty, save for a flattened, empty duffle bag. However, what the harbinger was really after was in the hidden compartement underneath the trunk's floor panel. Feeling around with his hands, Childe's eyes lit up when he successfully palpated a notch on the surface, hooking his fingers in and lifting the panel out of the way. What he found inside was a gorgeous array of firearms, explosives, and an inconspicuous change of clothes. The redhead almost cackled from relief.

 

If he had learned anything from his green days in the fatui, it was that things could go to shit at a moment's notice. Counter-measures for dire situation such as these were one of the first things he had done as a fatui harbinger.

 

With swift urgency, Childe began to collect everything he needed; pistols, magazines, and a flashbomb or two. He shrugged off his current coat and stuffed it into the duffle bag, replacing it with the plain coat from his stash.

 

The redhead decide that he was done waiting. He was about two and a half kilometers south out from the Fatui headquarters. If Childe's calculations were accurate, he could make it to Pulcinella's government house in just over 3 hours, but only if he managed to steer clear of any hindrances along the way. The Fatui had likely already placed a heafty bounty for his irritatingly noticable head, so every crook, bounty hunter, and their mothers were probably keeping their eyes peeled for him.

 

Well, if the redhead used to have any doubts about Dottore's shifty behavior, he now had the whole fatui's force hampering his movements to solidify his suspicions. Stupid. He had been so stupid. Of course Dottore would’ve resorted to dirty tricks. Anything to get Childe off of his back. 

 

However, a more pressing matter gripped at his thoughts. How - on the Archons’ green earth - did he manage to pull it off? No matter how fast Childe’s mind ran through all the possibilities, he couldn't properly settle on one simple answer. The air before the harbinger's face fogged as he huffed a breath of annoyance. Unfortunately, time was ticking away, and Pullcinella's government house wasn't going to grow a pair of legs and start prancing towards him either.

 

Once the redhead was certain the the dufflebag carried all of his necessities, he swung it over his shoulder and slammed the trunk shut, swift on his feat as he began to make his way to his target…

 

∼∼≺ ♢ ≻∽∽

 

 

“Childe?” 

 

Zhongli watched as the man before him audibly flinched in the frigid quiet at the unexpected baritone. The brunette himself had to conciously refrain from sharply inhaling when familiar azure eyes locked onto him soon after. 

 

… After two and a half years of nothing, he was just standing right in front of him. The redhead existed before him in the flesh, not as a picture in a report nor as a memory evoked by the mention of his name. Perhaps he was a little more haggard and rough around the edges than what he remembered, but he was there. Before Zhongli even realized it, a small, happy smile had already snuck its way onto his face. 

 

“... Childe.” The brunette articulated the name more confidently, unable to suppress the hint of relief that manage to seep into his tone. His grip on the gun loosened, his muscles eased, and his new-found sense of security at the familiar face urged him to take a step forward. “Are you alright-?”

 

He stopped dead in his tracks, however, when he was unexpectedly presented with the barrel of the harbinger’s pistol. An amateur mistake, really. While Zhongli had been reeling at the sight of the redhead, he had failed to notice when Childe had managed to reach for the gun holstered within his coat. The scene before him was enough to knock off the rose-tinted lenses the brunette had been immersed in, forcing him to appropriately analyse the state of the other. 

 

The harbinger was panting. Heavily. His shoulder’s rose and fell at intervals reminiscent of anger rather than exertion. Zhongli’s gaze traveled down along the other’s body, noting down any incongruous things on the redhead’s person. When he finally reached the bottom, the brunette’s vision honed in onto darker stains that were smeared along the edges of his boots, his pants, visible even with the harbinger’s dark clothes in the moonlit room. Blood stains. 

 

His eyes snapped back up to Childe’s face. His sullen eyes - burdened with urgency and panic that the brunette hadn’t seen before in the man - looked at him as if he were a ghost.

 

“Drop it.” Came the simple command. Zhongli held Childe’s challenging stare for a moment, scrutinizing him. Despite his unsteady breathing, his hold on his gun remained unfaltering and constant, ready to fire at any given moment. 

 

The brunette concluded that his best course of action was to acquiesce to the request. Slowly, he placed his gun on the floor, and even kicked it away once he stood back up to his full height for good measure. With a cautious speed, he raised his empty hands up into the air in hopes to placate the evidently aggravated harbinger. 

 

That action seemed to have achieved its intended purpose, for the frown on the other's face eased, if only by a little. “What are you…” Childe breathed out sluggishly, lost and confused, his mind clearly elsewhere as his eyes darted around the room. However, his meek tone quickly became firm and terse. “Wait.” The redhead’s gaze locked back onto Zhongli. After a tense beat of silence, the hostile scowl resurfaced onto his face. “No, it can’t be a coincidence.”

 

“What-” Zhongli began, but the other interjected before he could.

 

“You’re a part of this, aren’t you?!” Childe’s voice only rose in volume, outrage beginning to radiate from his eyes. 

 

“Childe.” Zhongli frowned, unintentionally falling back into a stern tone - a futile attempt at snapping the other out of his anger. The man before him was being rather… uncharacteristically hysterical. 

 

“Where’s Pulcinella?!” The redhead demanded, his whole demeanor shifting. He sounded more accusatory rather than interrogative. Perplexed, the brunette blinked; shouldn’t Childe know where the Rooster was? 

 

Suddenly, Zhongli could feel an impending headache itching at his temples. Somehow, their understanding of the situation was called into question with every new bit of information that was discovered and divulged. But one thing was for certain: That doctor was involved in this mess, one way or another. This ‘Dottore’ character was turning out to be more trouble than Zhongli had initially thought.

 

The slightest twitch of Childe’s fingers had Zhongli side stepping in tandem with an obnoxious bang, just in time to watch a bullet whizz past him.

 

It would appear that the redhead hadn’t taken too kindly to his silence.

 

On instinct, Zhongli lunged forward. Before the harbinger had the opportunity to make another shot, the brunette grabbed his wrist, naturally twisting the gun out of his hands with practiced ease and disarming him. With mild remorse, he proceeded to step back and aim the gun back at the redhead, expecting the other man to cease in his assault and give him a chance to explain himself. 

 

Impressively - yet to Zhongli's detriment - Childe didn’t hesitate to kick the pistol right out of his hands, the firearm flying across the space before sliding into a corner in the far end of the room. Despite the blatant aggression, the brunette could now appreciate the consolation that both of them were unarmed. That would make the altercation a little less life-threatening. 

 

Childe hopped back a step, quick to spring into an offensive stance. “Come on. Fists up. Let’s do this!” The harbinger snapped, clearly having already made up his mind regarding Zhongli’s involvement in all of this. The brunette sighed, long and slow, through his nose, before holding the harbinger's glare. He stood there, steadfast and resolute, blatantly ignoring Childe’s demand by not budging an inch. 

 

Nevertheless, that didn't seem to discourage him from advancing.

 

Zhongli clicked his tongue with displeasure. How unfortunate that it had come to this. He inched to the side, evading the blow Childe tried to deal right across his face.

 

Zhongli weighed his options as he continued to duck and dodge the other's assault. He could prolong his deflections until he tired the redhead out into a calmer state, but that would be time consuming. From experience, Childe's stamina was not something to be trifled with, and the brunette couldn't be certain whether he could afford the wasted minutes. He could finish it swiftly by knocking him out. However, while carrying Childe wouldn't be an issue on his part, it would make sneaking out of the premesis all the more inconvenient with the personelle on high alert. Furthermore, Zhongli didn't want to complicate the situation more than it already had been by beckoning towards unknown consequences that came with - essentially - kidnapping a harbinger. One was already presumably missing. He wasn't going to stir a pot that was already boiling over by taking another. Not to mention, Childe had to be well and awake if Zhongli was to hear the redhead's account.

 

Regrettably, it seemed that forcefully subduing him was the only way foreward. He could only hope that Childe would take no offense.

 

As the harbinger went for another strike at his face, Zhongli habitually side stepped it, just as he had done with the earlier attacks. This time, however, he hooked his arm around the offending limb, locking the crooks of their elbows together, trapping the redhead in place. The brunette then proceeded to punch Childe's side once, twice, before the other was able to break free of the hold, shoving Zhongli away.

 

Childe was quick to recover from the blows, not wasting a single moment before attacking again. He sent a succession of hits; a kick to the side of the brunette's knee, and then another kick to the side of his head, but both were effortlessly blocked. Despite the onslaught, it left the harbinger wide open. Zhongli took this opportunity to plan a strike to the other's chest with the aim to disorient him.

 

He didn't expect the other to swiftly catch his arm, pulling him in closer.

 

With quick efficiency, Childe reached his free hand over, coiling it around his shoulder, before hitting again with a sharp and powerful knifehand strike to Zhongli's chest. He then briskly let go of the siezed wrist, and with the same hand, dealt a solid punch straight into the brunette's sternum, causing him to stumble back a step.

 

Zhongli blinked, dumbfounded. That had been one of the moves he had used on Childe once during one of their sparring session they had a few years ago. It was an uncanny replication of his movements, as if the redhead had simply inherited his muscle memory. The move was meant to have an immensely staggering effect, giving one ample time to subdue their target. Perhaps it would have even been effective, had Childe used it on any person other than Zhongli.

 

The brunette noticed the small, yet electrified smile that had begun to curve across Childe's face, an expression that the harbinger seemed to have not been aware of. He recognized the familiar excitement - excitement from being able to flawlessly execute the move despite its lack of effect on his opponent. The reaction came as no surprise to Zhongli. Not even in the slightest. The redhead had always been eager about the art of hand to hand combat. Like a child, the harbinger wore his heart on his sleeve.

 

The brunette suppressed the fond twitch of his lips.

 

Upon drawing himself back to reality, Zhongli came to realize that Childe remained rooted in his spot, despite his readiness to pounce. Ultimately piecing together a likely reason as to what the other was waiting for, he decided to bregrudgingly entertain the harbinger. He brought his fists up, and parted his legs a little more, positioning himself into a fighting stance once again. Only then, did Childe rush towards him.

 

Zhongli dedicated his focus into the fight, finally understanding that he had made a mistake by underestimating the other's commitment to battle. They continued to exchange blows. Childe fought with the ferocity to eliminate, while Zhongli fought with the intention to deflect and throw the redhead's balance.

 

On a particularly careless kick from Childe, Zhongli seized his chance at the true opening he was given. He caught the other's leg, holding onto the struggling limb like a vice. He kicked a foot out, positioning it just behind the redhead's free foot, and before Childe could do anything in retaliation, Zhongli briskly grabbed him by the throat and tripped him over his held-out heel. This sent the harbinger gracelessly to the floor.

 

Upon impact, the redhead let out a small, sharp cry. The brunette applied enough pressure to effectively hold the other down, but not enough to block his windpipe. Childe's hands quickly found their way to Zhongli's forearm, trying their best to pull it away, but to no avail.

 

"Stand down." Zhongli stared commandingly, but he was only met with a wild and defiant look, the redhead still uselessly grappling with his arm. "No." He seethed.

 

Childe's leg shot out, and hooked itself around Zhongli's torso, giving him the necessary leverage with which to flip their positions. In the chaos of the roll, The brunette lost his grip around the other's neck, while the ginger's hold on his forearm still refused to relent. Before Zhongli could gather his bearings, the harbinger fell to his side, pulling the brunette's arm with him, and then wrapping his legs around said arm, locking them in place over the brunette's neck, and across his chest.

 

An armbar.

 

“I’m not as bad as you remember, am I?” Childe remarked snidely, his smug expression vaguely visible from the corner of Zhongli's eyes.

 

Zhongli's brows furrowed. He had allowed for this fiasco to go on for too long.

 

"Now tell me, where-" Barred from finishing his question, the harbinger's words devolved into a shocked yelp as Zhongli suddenly kicked upwards with unrivaled force, rolling backwards into a crouching position, while Childe was left defenseless, face first into the floor.

 

Childe may have been fast, but Zhongli was faster, settling himself ontop of the redhead and holding him down by his arm, finally immobilizing him.

 

“Childe, stand down.” Despite the brunette's demand, the man beneath him continued to jerk and pull agaisnt his hold.

 

“Get off of me.” Childe gritted out, still struggling. In response, Zhongli tugged his arm up further, eliciting a bitten-back groan of pain from the harbinger. 

 

“Stand down. I am not your enemy.” He tried to reason, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears.

 

“Bullshit.” Childe laughed bitterly as he spoke. “I can’t even trust my own comrades. How am I supposed to trust you?” 

 

… Weren't they comrades once?

 

Zhongli swallowed uncomfortably to clear his throat before he spoke. “Don't you trust Aether?” He managed through the dull aching in his chest.

 

The harbinger finally stilled, connecting the dots. 

 

After a beat of stillness, Zhongli slowly released the redhead, cautiously getting to his feet. Childe sat up, mussed up and out of breath, and rolled his shoulder around to ease the pain from the other's hold. The brunette offered a hand out in assistance - an olive branch - but was flatly rejected when the harbinger stood up on his own, turning away from him as he did. Zhongli sheepishly retracted his hand as the other began to fuss at his clothes, brushing off invisible dust from their earlier brawl. 

 

Zhongli gave the other man a moment to collect himself before instigating conversation once more. “Do you mind telling me what is going on?” He probed, watching Childe carefully. The harbinger glanced at him, narrow-eyed and unfriendly, before tossing a look over the brunette's shoulder. "Where's Aether?"

 

His question was blatantly ignored.

 

"He was in the building too, and so was Lumine. They should have pulled back by now." Zhongli answered, deciding he'd let the redhead off the hook for his impudence this time.

 

"Where-" Childe began to question, but was interrupted by the distant ruckus of sirens coming from the gaping hole of a window. The harbinger whipped his head around, and Zhongli's gaze was quick to follow. Looking outside, the faraway lights that illuminated the space beyond the trees confirmed his suspicions: Reinforcements were closing in. Considering that contact from within the building had been cut, the responders were likely local law enforcement.

 

"Shit," Childe hissed under his breath, his eyes shifting from place to place, trying to think of a solution.

 

Zhongli's mind flashed back to his conversation with Aether in the car, and a sudden surge of hope rushed through him. Perhaps this was his chance. "Childe, come with me. We can sort this out once we get to a more secure location." He advised. However, he didn't expect the ensuing attitude from the other.

 

"I don't have time for that right now." The harbinger groaned out, rushing to the window and looking outside for reasons unknown to the brunette. He honestly could not understand the youth's stubbornness. "We can help-"

 

"I don't need your help." Childe snapped as he whipped around to face Zhongli once more, prepared with a sharp stare. The redhead paused, however, a flicker of surprise flittering in his eyes. It was likely induced by whatever expression his sudden outburst had evoked from the brunette, but it was gone just as quickly as it had come. The harbinger's visage promptly settled back into one of distant vexation. "Just mind your own damn business."

 

And, beyond Zhongli's expectations, the man simply stepped back. Into open air.

 

"Childe!" Zhongli shouted in befuddlement, rushing forward in an attempt to catch the other, but his figure had already disappeared out of the window's frame long before the brunette could chance a grip on him.

 

However, reaching the windows edge and peering over showed him that his concern was unwarrented.

 

His gaze locked onto Childe's figure just in time to watch it fall towards an outstretched balcony approximately two stories down. He landed safely, rolling sideways to absorb the impact of the fall on the wintery terrace, his hair painfully striking against the gentleness of the snow. Zhongli sighed with mild relief, pushing out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.

 

In the following moments, Childe got to his feet and brushed off the remaining snow lingering on his coat from the landing. He looked up, a fast and flippant tilt of his head, and sent one last sour look at him before disappearing into the building.

 

Zhongli's eyes remained glued to the spot where the harbinger had been just seconds prior. Part of him wanted to chase after the other, to talk some sense into him, but the telling revving of enclosing hindrances shook him out of his train of thought. The brunette quietly cursed under his breath, realizing that retreating was his best course of action. He began to move hurriedly, habitually ignoring the familair, heavy feeling that nagged at his soul.

 

 

∼∼≺ Ⓧ ≻∽∽

 

 

Thick clumps of snow whipped and soared through the air, dragged along by the unrelenting winter winds at speeds unrivaled. So strong were the winds, that the thick, bullet proof glass still trembled against it's insistent force, badgering and hammering away the peace and tranquility. But withing the confines of the House of the Hearth, Arlechinno sat there idly, cross-legged, with a teacup and saucer delicately held within her hands. She occasionally took a careful sip, ensuring she would not burn her tongue against the scalding heat of the beverage. Earl Grey. Not a terrible choice. A gentle knock at the door drew her out of her temporary serenity. "Come in." She glanced at the door in time to watch three figures walk into the room.

 

"Father." Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet all greated in unision, declining their heads in a show of respect. "You summoned us?" Lyney solely carried on.

 

"Report."

 

Lyney nodded in response. "Everything was secured without a hitch."

 

"Good." The woman stood from her seat, setting her cup down onto the table as she did so. "Pakhan has another job for us." She began to stalk up towards her children, the heels of her shoes ominously clacking against the tiled floor. "There is a bounty set for Tartaglia's head. She has demanded that everyone is to partake in dragging him back here, whether it be in one piece or not." The clacking abruptly stopped as she loomed over them, her eyes boring into the three below. However, they stood there, completely unflinching in the wake of her gaze.

 

"I want you to bring him to me by whatever means necessary. Is that clear?"

 

"Yes, Father."

 

 

∼∼≺ ༄ ≻∽∽

 

 

Why did he have to be there?

 

The overhead street lights flitted over the car's windscreen at a rate straining for the pupils. Yet, Childe continued to speed down the road, eyes unflinching as they remained glued to the way ahead of him.

 

He wasn't supposed to be there.

 

The asphalt was covered with a thick sheet of ice, but that was expected. His home town wasn't exactly a place Snezhnaya would have deemed relevant enough to have the roads to it salted. Besides, the man had extensive experience rushing through frozen roads from either pursuing someone or from being pursued in the past.

 

Why couldn't he have stayed out of it?

 

The overhead lights soon began to dwindle, a telling sign that he was approaching the town. It wouldn't be long before he finally arrived. Finally called Dottore's bluff. Finally saw his family-

 

Ẇ̶̱h̶͚̃ÿ̶̹́ ̴͉͘c̴͙͝ǫ̷̆u̷͔̒l̴̞̐d̸̓͜n̵̯̄'̵̼̀t̶̨́ ̵̛̘Ẕ̵͋h̶̪͒ô̶̩n̷͙͂g̶͍͑l̵̖̅i̵̲̕ ̵̨̕h̸͖̔a̷̻̎v̶͈̉e̵̩͂ ̴̫͛j̶̹̐ú̵̪s̸͚͠t̵̬̽ ̵̤͊s̷̯̍t̴͔̑a̷̼͒y̸̼̓è̸͚d̸̙̒ ̷̡̛o̴̮̔u̸͍͐ẗ̵̥́ ̴̬̿ó̴͚f̶͙̊ ̷̫̑i̶͔̕t̸̏ͅ?̷͍͠

 

Childe made a sharp and brisk turn, dangerously - but successfully - parking the car in front of a humble yet well-kept house. He changed gears and switched the car off with unnecessary force and slumped back against his seat. His hands came back up to grip at the steering wheel, the leather of his gloves squeaking from the excessive tension.

 

Shit… The redhead's mind was playing through a million thoughts per minute. First, Dottore's heart-felt threat that he had left behind in Pulcinella's office. Second, that bastard showed up, and had the gall to act all relieved and- glad. Then there was still the issue of Pulcinella's unusual disappearance…

 

Childe slowly leveled his gaze again, scanning his surroundings. Every house was dark. Asleep. All save for the one he had parked beside.

 

The redhead had to forcefully swallow down the lump that had formed in his throat.

 

Exhaling sharply, he opened his car door and stepped out into the frigid air, shrugging off his jacket and dumping it unceremoniously into the empty seat. He wouldn't want to walk in with the sore reminder of his Fatui relations. The house wasn't far, anyway. The redhead trudged through the notable layer of snow that had accumulated along the path. Evidently, the shoveling had been neglected for the day. He nervously approached and rang the doorbell, the entrance mocking him in it's warm, homey appearance. Not long after, he could hear the faint sound of footfall against the wooden flooring. It was light and femenine, the sort of gait that only confirmed his worst fears. In the next moments, the door handle turned dauntingly to reveal his older sister, Elena. Her face twisted into one of shock, before morphing into one of disdain at the mere sight of him. "Ajax? What are you doing-"

 

She never visited home this time of year, unless it was important.

 

"Let me in." He resolutely pushed his way past her, but the woman gave way easily. Perhaps she was sparing him some compassion. Family was the only thing they ever agreed upon anymore, after all. Childe marched towards the living room, dread already constricting his chest and moistening his palms. He stopped himself at the entrance by latching onto the door frame, promptly scanning the room to take a head count.

 

His father, his older brother… Teucer, his mother, Anthon, his older sister was already accounted for…

 

All eyes had turned to the entrance at his sudden arrival, and Teucer's face lit up in recognition. "Big Brother!" The young boy shot up from where he had been sitting on the sofa and practically catapulted into Childe, smothering his tear-streaked face against his abdomen. "Big brother," He continued to sob, the little boy's fingers gripping at the hem of his shirt. "T-Tonia… She- She… Some scary guys…"

 

Childe sucked in a breath as a guilty pang tore through his heart. When had he last allowed something to bring his younger brother to tears like this? A hesitant touch to his wrist signalled Anthon's arrival to his side too, the boy slowly clinging to his arm, seeking solace. The redhead moved to settle his hand comfortingly upon his Teucer's head, but a soft voice froze his action. "Ajax?"

 

… He was scared to look. What if he didn't like what he would see? What if he saw the same terrified, mournful expression he had seen all those years ago, when those men in the dark suits came for him at his father's behest?

 

Not expecting it, the sensation of someone fiddling with his dirty, messy hair caught him off guard. Shifting his gaze upwards had him face to face with none other than his mother. Her eyes - despite the unquestionable turmoil she was going through - looked at him with unrivaled kindness and sincerity. She continued to push his amber locks out of his eyes, before caressing his sore cheek with a care that mothers only reserved for their children, no matter how undeserving they may be. "Look at you…" She muttered compassionately. It took everything in him to stop himself from flinching away again in shame.

 

Ajax paused for a moment to find his voice. "What… What happened?"

 

"Someone snatched Tonia, that's what happened." His older brother, Alexei, pitched in from the other side of the room, his tone nothing short of confrontational. "But you already knew that, didn't you? Considering you're already here even though none of us gave you a call."

 

The glare Childe sent him did not go unnoticed by his mother. She settled her palm on his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. His mother cleared her throat, as if hoping to clear away the palpable tension in the room while doing so. "Come and sit, Ajax. You must be tired after the long trip."

 

As obnoxious as his brother may have been, he had done his job in reminding Ajax why he was there in the first place. Childe gently gripped his mother's wrist and pulled it away from his shoulder, his mind instinctively browsing through the plethora of carefully constructed masks he had crafted, before pathetically hiding behind the forced, remorseful smile he had reserved just for his family. "It's alright, mother. I won't be here for long anyway." His voice unintentionally came out aloof and detached.

 

Her expression fell slightly, disappointed in his sudden shift in attitude. "Alright…" She retracted her hand back, and Childe's eyes trailed after it with quiet longing. By this point, Teucer's sobbing had almost subsided, and the little boy took his opportunity of calm to speak once again. "Big brother… Tonia is going to be okay, right?"

 

"Yes." He didn't skip a beat when replying to his brother. "I promise." The redhead shifted his gaze down to his brother, soothingly ruffling his hair as he flashed him a reassuring smile before facing his mother again. "I assume local law enforcement has already jumped on the case?"

 

His mother nodded. "They are saying that they're doing everything that they can, but… it's been four hours already, and I-" Her voice quivered mid sentence as she went to bunch her hands together, hoping to stay her trembling hands. "I can't help but feel that they are not doing enough."

 

… He knew it. He knew how the police worked around here. In fact, by that point, he was certain that they were all under Dottore's payroll. They wouldn't be of any help.

 

"I promise I'll bring her back-"

 

He honestly could have dodged the oncoming assault. A small step back would have sufficed, but a deplorable, more vulnerable side of him welcomed his father's fist across his face compliantly, causing him to stumble slightly on his feet. The room erupted in a series of gasps and shouts. Alexei stepped up to half-heartedly hold onto their father's arm. Elena and his mother stood between them, reprimanding the old man. Teucer started crying again, and Anthon's grip on his arm only tightened.

 

Ah. There it was. His father's long-awaited contribution to the discussion.

 

"You've got some nerve," He began seethingly, "Coming to my house and throwing around promises when you caused all of this!" 

 

"Tyoma, stop this at once!"

 

"I shouldn't have let you come back so many times. You've implicated us!"

 

Amidst the familial mayhem, Childe continued to stare at the wooden floor. In all the years, the planks maintained their uniform sheen, save for the scraps and blemishes few and far between, brought about by the rough-housing him and his older siblings had been up to in their younger days. Their simpler days. It held many fond memories. He scrutinized the flooring's topography hard and well. It might have been the last chance he would get to do so.

 

"Get out of my house. Get out!" His father, incensed, flailed an arm in the general direction of the house door. "You've done enough already!"

 

It had been a while since the redhead had last seen his father be so animated and fiery. He made a mental note to have Ekaterina order more of the latest pain medication Childe had sent his family, when this was all over. However, staying so aggravated for so long couldn't be good for his health at his age.

 

He was right. He should go.

 

"… Okay." He said, quiet and hoarse. There was a brief, awkward moment where everyone seemed to hold their breaths, as if they had been anticipating for Childe to reciprocate their father's hostility, yet it never came. He simply began to pull away. To withdraw. To retreat.

 

"Big brother…?" Teucer reached out after him, but Elena caught his shoulder and pulled him back. "Leave him be, Teucer. Ajax needs to go now."

 

He turned the corner before he had the chance to hear the rest of his family's exchange, quickening his pace and beelining for the exit, hoping that no one would able to catch up to him. However, as always, his mother seemed to be a step ahead of him, already following him to the door as he was gripping the handle. "Ajax."

 

Every nerve in his body urged him to leave, to get moving, to find Tonia, but Childe still regarded his mother with the utmost patience and care. "Yes, mother?"

 

She inched closer to him, her sad eyes staring into his own, seemingly searching for something, before pulling him into one last gentle hug, which he reciprocated with artificially trained care. "Please be careful." She whispered into his shoulder.

 

He has already made so many promises. What's one more? "I will be."

 

Extracting himself from the embrace, he wordlessly shut the front door after himself, leaving his mother to stand alone in the hallway. With heavy limbs, he walked back to his car, and plopped back into his front seat. It was freezing, but Childe couldn't even bring himself to start the car to turn the heater on. He glanced at his coat, relocated onto the passenger seat when he returned to his car, contemplative. His eyes honed in on the Fatuus sigil, and a hot, bitter taste stung at his tongue.

 

Dottore was a dead man.

 

He needed to level the playing field. But what options did he really have? His allies in the Fatui were either out hunting for the bounty that was placed on his head, or were extracted from the picture. He could flee to Liyue, but his pride wouldn't let him go to Aether. Anything to avoid that man. However…

 

Childe's vision refocused once more. His body began to move on its own as he started the car, changed gears, and backed out from his family's driveway, his mind already fixating on the lone person who could be his saving grace in his current time of need.

 

 

∼∼≺ ✦ ≻∽∽

 

A sigh of relief eased its way out of Lumine's lips, the comforting steam of her shower yearningly clinging to every surface of her body as she exited the bathroom, perfectly alleviating the majority of the tension that had plagued her. She ruffled her hair with a towel, her messy blonde locks flicking before her eyes from the motion. Soon after, she took a moment to scan her eyes across the room to look for her brother.

 

Aether sat at the desk, glued to his laptop. his digits flew across the keyboard, typing away message after message, his screen flickering as it switched between contacts.

 

"… Aether."

 

Lumine's voice seemed to fall on deaf ears, given that her brother's eyes remained dutifully fixed on the screen, completely disregarding his surroundings.

 

"Aether. Go shower. It's getting late, and we need to get some rest after the trip."

 

… Yet again, she was promptly ignored, her twin too engorssed in whatever he was doing. She padded towards the desk and stood over him, waiting to see if he would finally regard her. Which he didn't. A sharp and resolute tug at the end of his braid fixed that, however.

 

Aether squawked in response, bringing a hand up to rub at his offended roots soothingly. "Archons," he muttered, "I heard you the first time."

 

"Then answer, you slug! Who are you texting anyway?" Lumine leaned in closer, peering over her brother's shoulder to catch a glimpse of his screen.

 

Aether shuffled over to the side, making way for his sister to take a look. "I'm getting into contact with some of our reliable contacts in Nod Krai: Nefer, Dori, I even heard Liben is in Snezhnaya at the moment. I'm hoping that I can get something out of them."

 

"Any luck?"

 

"… They're working on it." He replied dryly.

 

Lumine's eyes softened, worry lacing her face when seeing the toll this ordeal had taken on her brother. "Just go take a shower already."

 

He blinked - a slow movement - and glanced up at her for a brief moment. He raised his hands to wipe at the exhaustion in his eyes, pushing the chair back as he stood up to his full height. "I still wanted to check in on Zhongli. He didn't look too good after the last mission."

 

Lumine couldn't argue with that. According to her brother, when the brunette had finally returned to the car after the mission, his whole demeanor had shifted. That is not to say he didn't report his side of the events - He was just strangely… detached. If she were to hazard a guess, it was likely related to Childe.

 

There seemed to be history there, but that was something she could bug her brother about later.

 

She gently clasped a hand on Aether's shoulder, stopping him before he could take another step. "I'll go, you just take that shower." Lumine cracked a smile at her next words. "You stink like a trash can."

 

Her brother pouted at the jab, but ultimately nodded in agreement, finally acquiescing to her suggestion.

 

"Where can I find him?"

 

Aether paused for a moment, looking back down at his laptop to check the time. "He's probably in his room at this hour, but if he isn't there, then you could try his office." Lumine nodded at the instructions. "Alright, got it."

 

The twins began to move towards their respective directions, with Aether beelining to the bathroom, and Lumine heading for the exit. However, she paused just as she opened the door, waiting to hear the tell-tale sound of running water before finally leaving in search for Zhongli, satisfied.

 

The place was huge. Had it not been for her good sense of direction, Lumine would have likely lost her way on several occasions by now. As her brother had recommended, the blonde's first destination was Zhongli's quarters, but a resolute knock on the door bore no response. Deeming the room unoccupied, she began to move her legs once more, this time towards the man's office.

 

As she made her way, it occured to her that she wasn't entirely sure how she would approach the brunette. She began to mentally brainstorm for potential talking points: What would she say? How would she say it? Unlike her, Aether had always had a talent for connecting with others. She wasn't as familiar with the members of Xian Industries, and neither had it ever crossed her mind to do anything to change that, least of all with Zhongli.

 

Regrettably, all of the brainstorming left her with little to go off of. Lumine could already see the sliver of dim light eminating from the crack in Zhongli's office door. The blonde began to fidget with the end of her shirt, hesitently inching towards the entrance. She raised a hand in preparation to knock, but permitted herself a quick peak into the room before doing so. Just to gauge the atmosphere, nothing more.

 

She had conjured up a handful possibilities of what she might have seen inside, but she certainly had not expected this.

 

There Zhongli sat, lounging in his chair behind his desk. His head rested against the fingers of one hand propped up on the armrest, whilst the other idly swirled a small, porcelain cup of an unknown drink. It was hard to discern his countenance, for the man's hand was in the way. However, Lumine had no doubt that his amber eyes were lost in the distance, staring out of the window as if something there had captured his rapt attention. In the next moments, Zhongli placed the cup back onto the table, only to pick up a piece of lidded china, beautifully decorated, and poured himself more to drink.

 

Ah. It was a gaiwan. He was drinking tea.

 

Lumine had to remind herself why she was even bearing witness to this scene, snapping herself out of her reverie. If she stared any longer, Aether would certainly begin to walk a hole into the floor of their room, waiting for her to come back. She finally flexed her wrist, allowing a short succession of knocks to resound into the room, and watched how it drew Zhongli out of his stupor.

 

"Um- Hello, Mr. Zhongli." Lumine began meekly, widening the door to better reveal herself. "May I come in?"

 

For the briefest of moments, the blonde was able to catch the expression that had been hiding behind the brunette's hand, but Zhongli was quick to present a kind smile in turn. "Ah, Ms. Lumine. Of course, come in. Although, I would have thought you'd be long asleep by now."

 

She laughed it off sheepishly. "Not yet."

 

"Then what brings you to my office? Is something troubling you?"

 

Lumine wanted to laugh. Was something troubling her? "No, no, nothing at all. I just…" She began to tap her fingers together, nerves getting the better of her. "I actually wanted to ask you that question."

 

Her mind raced back to the unease and hurt she had seen earlier. "Is something troubling you?" She articulated gingerly.

 

This had the man pausing, his expression turning into something more neutral. Before long, his smile was back, as if it was something instinctual. He placed his porcelain cup back onto the table with a gentle clink before he spoke. "I can assure you, Ms. Lumine, I am fine. Please, go get some rest. You must be tired after staying in foreign lands for so long."

 

It was a subtle, quiet dismissal, but a loud, excruciatingly painful reminder to Lumine that this man was emotionally constipiated. Like hell would she be leaving now! In no world would Aether ever be satisfied with simply hearing 'I am fine'. He'd never trust her to check on his friends ever again.

 

She cleared her throat, psyching herself up. "Mr. Zhongli."

 

She waited for said man to look at her once more prior to proceeding with her speech. "I am not as adept with my words as my brother is, so I can't do much when it comes to consoling. But… I am a good listener. I understand that it is not really in my place to be prying like this, but Aether is worried about you. So am I. So… If you have something on your mind… then, as a… friend…" She began to fumble closer to the end, feeling strangely flustered by the brunette's unfaltering gaze. Zhongli finally looked away, a somewhat complicated expression permeating across his features. Just when Lumine believed that the awkardness couldn't get any worse, the silence began to stretch for one… three… several seconds too long…

 

"But it's totally fine if you don't want to talk about it either! Who am I to push you, after all?" She waved her hands sheepishly in front fo her, taking a tentative step back in preparation to leave. Maybe she should have left this to Aether, after all.

 

"… Well, then if I am to be frank, I suppose I am… shaken." Zhongli interupted her mid-turn. The blonde whipped back around in surprise. When the man saw that he had successfully stopped her from leaving, he motioned Lumine to a chair before his desk, inviting her to make herself comfortable. In response, she gingerly situated herself into the seat.

 

The brunette opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words ever formed. He tired and failed to vocalize his thoughts for at least another minute before he sighed a small, dejected thing. His fingers came up to soothe his frown before trailing to the side of his brow, a rueful smile finally revealing itself through the cracks. "I never would have thought that seeing him again would make me so delighted. Childe, I mean." He reached a hand out to fiddle with the lid of the gaiwan mindlessly. “I… I was prepared for him to be confused, or angry, even indifferent, but…” Zhongli stopped, his index slowly slipping down from where it had been tracing nonsensical patterns on the lid's handle.

 

“I wasn’t prepared for him to resent me.”

 

Lumine detected a sense of fragility in the man's voice, foreign and unfamiliar. Surely, Zhongli was no stranger to hatred. A man like him had likely made countless enemies. Likely had friends turn into obstacles and problems one too many times.

 

Likely had to fix those problems with his own hands. She had heard stories from her brother.

 

No. To Morax, hatred was the intimate companion he had brushed shoulders with time and time again. Yet, there Zhongli was, sulking over a ginger. He was much like those kids she passed by often in Mondstadt, pouting and sniffling after squabbling with their friends.

 

“I… Apologies, I…” The man turned his head, hanging it low in an attempt to hide. “You shouldn’t have to see me like this.”

 

No matter how much she desired to, she knew that trying to verbally console the brunette wouldn't be of much help. Tentatively, Lumine lifted a hand to cup it over the man's. She felt the faintest flinch beneath her palms, and when the brunette finally lifted his gaze, she beamed, commiserate and kind in return.

 

Zhongli just stared at her, wordless and - dare she say - dumbfounded, before a few breaths of laughter escaped his lips. "I must say, I've only ever witnessed such uncanny resemblance in one other set of twins in the past."

 

"We get that a lot." She mused. Soon, however, Lumine's attention was slowly stolen by the pretty patterns adorning the porcelain before her, and curiosity began to gnaw away at the recesses of her mind.

 

"Where did you get this from? It's called a gaiwan, right?"

 

She internally smirked at the small sparkle that seemed to illuminate Zhongli's eyes. "Yes, you are correct. This was a gift I recieved from an old friend, Madam Ping. You might have heard of her from your brother. This gaiwan was a limited set created by…"

 

Clearly, her assessment of the man was correct: He loved to impart little tid-bits of knowledge about history or culture… or anything, really.

 

And Lumine was nothing, if not an avid listener.

 

∼∼≺ ♡ ≻∽∽

 

The dark hours of midnight had already crept their way over the sky, quietly laying themselves along it's vast expanse to flaunt the mesmerizing stars they carried. Alas, few actually stepped out to appreciate the beauty, for most citizens of Nod Krai would have rather lathered their faces with drink and the like, indoors, well until day-break. The subzero temperatures may be puny when compared to the heart of Snezhnaya, but they were still something not to be tifled with, nonetheless.

 

The flagship was one prime example where people congregated to waste the night away and escape the cold. The bar bustled with the cackles and murmurs of it's patrons, the sounds blending together to provide the perfect mind-numbing noise to highlight the perky tunes played by the bar band in the corner. Not that this particular man was reveling in the music. He was too busy staring at the ginger sitting beside him, his hand frozen in the middle of bringing his glass of beer to his lips for a sip. Horrified.

 

“... What. The. Fuck.” Came the man's response after a long silence.

 

No, because what the fuck was Childe thinking?

 

"What the fuck, indeed. I mean, this is cheap, even for Dottore." The redhead bemoaned, airy, but definitely irked as well.

 

“Haven’t you learned from my mistakes? Don’t involve yourself with the doctor.”

 

"What? What was that?" Childe suddenly let out an eaggerated gasp. "Was the Scaramouche just admitting that he made a mistake?" As if looking to piss him off, the redhead even threw in a dramatic gesture, cupping a hand over his mouth in faux surprise.

 

Said man that the ginger was mocking flashed him an unimpressed look. "First of all, don't call me that." He snapped. "Second of all, Shut your trap. You're being too chipper for someone who just got themselves into shoulder-deep shit."

 

Childe's mouth was quick to develop a shit-eating grin. "Are we talking your shoulder-deep, or my shoulder-deep?"

 

The raven-haired man was suddenly reminded of how irreverent his ex-colleague could have been.

 

"Don't look at me like that. You gotta be specific! It makes all the difference, you know." Childe still had the gall to victimize himself.

 

"Insufferable." The older of the two muttered as he finally brought his beer to his lips to take a large swig… Perhaps he should have ordered something stronger.

 

The younger drummed his fingers along the table-top, simply watching his friend cope with his stupidity. "Aaaanyway, then what am I supposed to call you? You never exactly graced me with your new moniker, after you just bolted."

 

"… Just call me… Hat-Guy."

 

…

 

The ginger's shoulders began to quiver uncontrollably.

 

"Yeah, Scara, I'm good."

 

"You-"

 

"You can't possibly expect me to call you that with a straight face, can you?" Childe argued, a few puffs of laughter obnoxiously escaping from his mouth as he spoke. The raven-haired man scowled. "If Lumine can, then so can you." He grumbled, staring at the vestiges of his beer as he swirled it around in his glass. "That woman lives to mock me."

 

Childe leaned in closer, bumping shoulders with him. "Come on, surely you've thought of a better name than that."

 

"And so what if I have? The fewer who know it, the better."

 

"I promise I won't tell." The older of the two could hear the expectant lilt that snagged at the redhead's tone. He rolled his eyes, blatantly ignoring the question posed by the younger. "So, what now? I doubt you called me out here to just whine about your sob story."

 

Childe briefly pouted at the other's habitual deflection, but seemed to recover soon enough as a grin split across his face. "I knew you'd catch on. I want your help."

 

"With what?"

 

Childe's next line nearly had him chocking on thin air. "Taking care of Dottore, what else?" He said, still remaining irritatingly opptimistic when staring face-to-face at the absolute shit-show awaiting the man in the near-future.

 

"No." He couldn't shut the other down faster. The younger balked at his vehement refusal, even tried interjecting, but was interupted by the raven-haired man waving the barman down. "Hey, bartender! You got anything stronger than this?"

 

"Scara-"

 

"You got a death wish or something?" The older of the two whipped his head around so fast, the ends of his locks nearly whacked the other across the nose. "I said no."

 

"Death wish? Please." Childe scoffed, sounding affronted, of all things. "If anyone's going to die, it's gonna be him, when I get my hands on him."

 

The older rolled his eyes at the useless threat. "As if that's going to be a walk in the park." He muttered out a thanks when the bartender slid another glass over to him before turning his attention back to other customers.

 

"It would be if you helped me."

 

"No."

 

"Come on."

 

"No."

 

"Help me."

 

"You think it's that simple, jackass? I worked hard to cut my ties with the Fatui." The raven-haired man cautiously sniffed at the drink, before shrugging and moving to take a sip.

 

Childe scoffed. "Running away like a coward is the easiest part." He bit back, bitter and petty.

 

A brief pause eminated between the two men, causing the ginger to glance at his companion, mildly disturbed by his silence. A brief look of surprise flashed across his face when he was met with the raven-haired man's hard and complicated stare. "Sorry, I-" Childe began, but the raven-haired man slammed his hand on the table, leaving behind some mora to cover for the drinks he had ordered and hopped out of his seat, flippant and pissed.

 

Mildly panicked, Childe scurried out of his stool to chase after the other. "I shouldn't have said that."

 

Despite the redhead's remorse, the raven-haired man continued to peevishly make his way out of the bar's door. Nod Krai's air did little to douse the man's flickering indignation, and the source of his vexatation stubbornly trailed after him.

 

"Please." The redhead's voice drew nearer behind him as he caught up, but the older refused to deign him with his attention any longer. They trudged on for a few more steps, tense and silent, before Childe finally broke. "He has Tonia."

 

The raven-haired man stopped dead in his tracks. Childe nearly tripped over him.

 

…Of course this was about his family. How could he have been so ignorant?

 

He turned back around and looked at Childe. Really looked. His blue eyes bored into him, hopeful and desperate. His arms seemingly hung by his sides, slackened, but his furled fists were hidden within the sleeves of his coat. His cheeks and nose were progressively turning red from the cold, and it just made the man look even more pathetic and sad, like a puppy that had been kicked one too many times.

 

He looked like a disaster waiting to happen.

 

"…What do you have in mind then?"

 

Childe visibly perked up, hope and glee practically flooding back into his gaze when his friend finally relented. The older of the two rolled his eyes in a futile attempt to downplay the intricate soft-spot he had for the ginger. "Spit it out already. We don't have all day."

 

The small smile that formed on the redhead's face told him that deep down, the raven-haired man wasn't fooling anyone. At least the little shit had the decency to tip-toe around the subject. "I had been keeping an eye on Dottore's movements closely, but evidently, the man is good at covering his tracks." He began to explain. "But, I get the feeling that's because no one else is better at stalking the good doctor than you."

 

He frowned. "You're making me sound like a creep."

 

Childe waved a hand dismissively, his earlier cheekiness slowly returning. "Eh, he's 'Creep Pro-Max'. I'm sure that from some moral outlook, that cancels everything out, doesn't it?"

 

"Just get to the point." The smaller man groaned out.

 

"I think your best bet for the time being would be to follow his money trail. Aether and I came across his ledger, and he was spending big time. With that kind of money, he could be up to anything."

 

The raven-haired man looked at the other, marginally… proud, in a strange way. He remembered the day he had seen Childe for the first time - young, naïve, and painfully reckless. Rational thought had been a rare blessing for the youth in those days.

 

"… Also, take a peak at the Regrator. See if he's in on it." Upon realizing the older's long stare directed at him, he paused, and sheepishly blurted out his next line. "Please."

 

He couldn't help but scoff at the misplaced and unnecessary apology. "Yeah, yeah. I'll look into those things. I'll send you the details once I find something."

 

Childe let out a low, shaky sigh. "Thanks, Scara. I owe you big time."

 

"Uhu. To do that, you need to make sure you don't get yourself killed in the process." The raven-haired man wearily droned out.

 

"Hey now, I'm not that easy to get rid of." The redhead reached out to poke at his face, but was abruptly swatted away. "Just get out of here already." The smaller man snapped, but there was barely any actual bite behind his words. Childe chuckled at the act, obediently retracting his hand to shove it back into his pocket, seeking refuge in the warmth of his jacket.

 

"Thank you. Really."

 

The raven-haired man just stood there, taken aback by the raw genuinity. The redhead already seemed to know that he wouldn't be getting a response from the other, however, for he had already turned around and began to walk in the opposite direction from his companion, the smaller of the two settling on watching Childe's shrinking back, before it disappeared behind a wall as he turned the corner.

 

…

 

…

 

Was he really doing this? Over sappy, sentimentality?

 

The raven-haired man's eyes were pulled to his dark phone screen, staring at his own reflection. After a beat, he heaved out an exasperated sigh, and grumbled. "Fuck."

 

∼∼≺ ♫ ≻∽∽

 

Numbing pain at the back of his head. A cold, flat surface pressed against his whole left side. The familiar sensation of metal biting into his wrists. But most of all, the spinning in his head, turning it back, and forth, back, and forth… 

 

He blearily opened his eyes, but the hair in his face made it difficult to see. Despite the obstruction, he could tell it was dark, save for a light coming in from the door below him… oh wait, that was his right. Damn this vertigo. It was somehow worse than getting piss-drunk. 

 

Tugging his wrists confirmed his suspicions. Handcuffs, binding his hands behind his back. What he wasn't expecting were the binds on his ankles as well, noticing them only when he tried to move his legs too. So, his captors were really pulling all the stops to ensure he couldn’t escape. Annoyingly clever. 

 

Having been too preoccupied with his immediate surroundings, he failed to notice the sound of voices from the other room until a few moments later. Well, more like a voice, Announcing orders left and right. However, he was still too drugged to be able to make out anything at the present time. 

 

He tried to sit up, dragging his knees up to turn over and provide leverage with which to pull himself up with and leaning on his shoulders for extra support. Pushing through the drugged haze, he grunted quietly in effort through the duct-tape that was plastered across his mouth. His sluggish movements caused the chain of his cuffs to clink, and the voice in the other room paused at the noise. 

 

He held his breath.

 

That voice said something again, short and clipped. This time, however, he was able to pick up the distinctive, guttural, and harsh consonants of the snezhnayan language. Soon after, footfall could be heard stepping closer and closer to the door, before a silhouette finally stood and blocked the minimal light filtering into the room.

 

“Well,” It was that same voice. A menacing baritone, now speaking in the common language. “Look who’s finally awake.” 

 

Still struggling to push himself up, he observed booted feet stalk up to him. “Granted, my men did drug you enough to take out a horse… or two.” 

 

He finally managed to get himself into a relatively vertical state in time to come face to face with a pointed mask, inches away.

 

Dottore smiled when their gazes met. “Greetings, Barbatos.”

 

Notes:

Some house-keeping:

1. Don't quote me on this, but apparently the term 'Pakhan' is used to refer to a crime boss in Russian mafias AKA brotherhoods? (It's a masculine terms, but it is said that they refer to female mafia mosses with the same title regardless?) I'm not entirely sure on how the term is used, and in what contexts people use it (for example, if people even address the boss directly as 'Pakhan' like I had them do here) . If someone is more knowledgeable about this, please drop a comment and fill me in on the semantics of this!

2. Hehe, I decided to have Aether saved as 'star-bright' in Childe's phone. Lumine would be saved as 'Star-light'. Just a silly little detailed i thought up of.

Thanks for reading!!!

Notes:

Welp, that's my little snippet. I'm a little unsure of how much I want to include in the first chapter, because it is either gonna be A LOT or very small segments. Maybe I'll just lump the next part all together into chapter 1; I've always preferred reading longer chapters anyway.

Thanks for reading!

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of When It All Comes Crashing Down (main story + side stories)