Chapter Text
Perhaps-
Perhaps Diluc shouldn’t have gone out while he was sick.
It was just a simple head cold, nothing serious! Yet, somehow, it’s hindered him enough that he made a miscalculation and allowed himself to get hit by a hilichurl’s arrow. His right arm burned where the arrowhead was still embedded, the shaft of it snapped off to give him more room to move around. Fortunately, the city streets were quite tonight, so he only had to hold out until he got back to the winery.
Shouldn’t be too difficult, he’s dealt with worse than this before.
Diluc’s grown weak. That has to be it, since he’s stumbling over his own feet and his breath is coming out in short, wheezing pants that leave his lungs feeling like they’re on fire. He ducks into an alleyway to catch his breath, gritting his teeth as he leans against the cold brick wall – a soothing sensation compared to the fire spreading throughout his limbs. His arm is throbbing painfully, and his legs shake, knees buckling under the strain of keeping himself up.
Seriously, a little arrow to the arm shouldn’t be affecting him like this.
To your left.
He whirls around to see a dark figure appearing at the opening to the alley. Diluc pushes himself off the wall, slipping a small throwing knife out of the sheath wrapped around his thigh, and gripping it tightly as he narrows his eyes at his opponent. Sweat beads across his forehead.
“You’re hurt.” Is all they say, and the familiar breezy voice is enough for Diluc to lower the blade, but he doesn’t relax completely. If Jean notices, she doesn’t show it, instead stepping closer to get a better look at the wound. Instinctively, Diluc takes a step back, keeping a comfortable distance from her.
The look on her face is unreadable, but Jean steps closer again, freezing up when he moves away quickly, cornering himself as his back hits the wall again. They stare at each other in the dark, waiting for the other to make the first move. Diluc sways a bit, dizziness and nausea catching up to him from all the movement and pain.
“Can I-“ Jean doesn’t get to finish her sentence, rudely interrupted by Diluc’s legs finally giving up on him. She catches him before he hits the ground, his whole-body tenses in her hold. He waits for it – the killing blow, the stab in the back now that he’s weak and vulnerable. But it never comes. Instead, he gets, “It’s okay, you’re safe with me. You can relax now. I’ll take you back to mine and we’ll sort out this arrow wound, hm?”
It’s not up for debate as she’s already dragging him away to her shared home with Lisa.
She has one arm around his waist, holding him steady as they walk along, the other gently resting a hand on his head, shielding his face as she presses it to her shoulder. It’s a bit difficult to walk like this, but he’s already struggling so it doesn’t make much of a difference.
“You’re safe, Diluc. You don’t have to be afraid.”
He’s not-
He’s not afraid. Why would he be afraid?
Don’t go into her house, Diluc.
Oh, great. His dead father was talking to him again. Thank you, delusion.
I told you before, she’ll kill you.
He tenses up again, but Jean still gently coaxes him through the front door and into the lounge room where she sets him down onto the couch before disappearing, presumably to collect a med kit. He wants to stand up, leave and never come back. He’s not sure if he can face Jean right now, if not ever. The guilt eats him inside out, and he still doesn’t even have those flowers he asked Klee for. Diluc had planned out how he would apologise to her but now she’s gone ahead and thrown it all to shit, so now he must improvise.
He’s never been very good at that.
Jean comes back into the room and crouches down in front of him, hesitantly reaching her hand out towards the arrow head still embedded in his arm. His vision is blurring from the pain and he’s trembling violently, but he manages a simple nod. Jean wastes no time, placing one hand on the splintered shaft, the other wrapped comfortingly around his arm.
She gives him a moment to brace himself-
Breathe in, breathe out...
Diluc grunts in pain as she yanks the arrowhead out of his arm. The dimly lit rooms lights up with a gentle teal glow as anemo swirls around the wound. Gentle pulses wave through his arm, dulling the pain until he feels nothing but slight discomfort, the deep cut now nothing more than a thin scar across his bicep.
The healing finishes and the room is suddenly enveloped in darkness again. Diluc startles, wavering gaze flickering all over the room defensively.
Jean frowns at the clear display of fear, shifting to sit on the couch besides him. Her heart clenches when he barely conceals another flinch.
“Diluc-“ She breathes.
“Why did you help me?” His voice his hoarse and shaky, though that could just be from the pain. Jean studies his face for a moment. He stares off somewhere around the coffee table in front of them, refusing to look up at her with a hard set to his jaw.
‘Stubborn as always.’ Jean thinks fondly to herself before answering.
“Because you’re my friend, and I care about you.”
“Why?”
...
She should’ve known it wouldn’t have been that easy. Some part of her really hoped it would’ve been.
She inhales deeply, exhaling with a puff of anemo to calm her nerves and, hopefully, Diluc’s as well. It must work, if the way his shoulders drop a little is anything to go by.
“A lot had happened in the past five years, and I know that I will never be able to truly understand what you went through while you were gone. We’ve all changed, that much is true, but deep down, we’re all still the same kids we were when we met.”
Jean isn’t entirely sure where she’s going with this. She’s never been very good at comforting people with matters that closely involve herself.
“You can’t see it,” She continues on, as she always does. “But you’re still that sweet and kind kid you grew up as. It’s just been buried deep down, and that’s okay. You’ve been through so much, Diluc, it’s only fair that you’ve built these walls around yourself.”
Diluc shakes his head, still staring at the table as he hunches in on himself. “You don’t get it...”
“I don’t, you’re right. I don’t get it, I haven’t been what you’ve been through. I haven’t witnessed what you have. I know you think you’re a horrible person-“
“Stop-“ He sounds so small, voice wavering as tear droplets hit the wooden floors. But Jean can’t stop, she won’t stop.
“You’re not-“
“I am.” God’s, he’s so broken. Jean had idolised him while they were growing up – he was so independent, so strong, so confident. It was inspiring, seeing someone so untouchable, unbreakable. She feels guilty for not seeing the reality soon enough.
“I’ve done... horrible things, Jean.” Diluc whispers, finally turning to look at her. His eyes still held a shine in them, but it wasn’t the same as before. It was duller now, half-dead, like it was forcing itself to keep going.
The eyes are the gateway to the soul, after all.
Jean sniffles (when did she start crying?), and reaches out for him. She doesn’t move beyond that – just holding her arms out in invitation, giving him the choice to come closer if he so wished. The sudden weight against her was, honestly, surprising. Jean hadn’t expected him to go for it, but she wasn’t complaining.
She shifted them around until she was resting with her back against the arm of the couch, Diluc draped over her like an emotional wreck blanket, his face buried in her chest as he clung on to whatever self-control he had left to not cry.
“Good people do horrible things when they’re pushed too far.” She says, stroking her fingers through his hair. “You were pushed too far.”
She can feel the dam break as he finally let’s out a choked sob, hands clutching her shirt tightly as he trembled violently in her arms. He shakes his head, mumbling against her as his tears soak her shirt, though she doesn’t mind.
“Y-you don’t-“ His voice is muffled, hiccups interrupting him as he cries, gentle hands still stroking his hair in a way he hasn’t felt in years. Jean shushes him gently, cradling him in her arms, shielding him from the outside world.
She's sure that Lisa has woken up to the noise already, and Jean’s thankful that she’s stayed up in their room, giving them privacy. What would she do without that women?
“It’s okay, Diluc.”
“It h-hurts. It hurts so much-“
“I know.” She hushes softly, holding him tighter. “You’re going to be okay. We’ll keep you safe, I promise.”
Diluc had done so much for her as kids, if there was any way for her to repay the kindness he’d shown her, it was this. She would stay by his side, and she would show him how loved she made her feel.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to run anymore. You’re not alone, Diluc.”
They stayed like that for a while, Diluc crying in her arms as she whispered gentle reassurances. Words she had prayed she could tell him.
“You’ve been so brave.”
“You don’t need to be afraid anymore. We won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“I’m so proud of you.”
“You can rest now.”
-
Eventually, he calmed down and the violent sobs that wracked his body dwindled down to soft hiccups. He had crawled off of her, face red and puffy from crying so much, and she had gone to fetch him a glass of water.
“Thanks.” He murmured as he took the glass from her. He downed the thing in one go, already feeling better from it. Jean took the glass from him and set it down of the coffee table, sitting down beside him with a hand on his back.
“I need to head back to the winery.”
Jean gave him a hard stare to which he responded with a roll of his eyes.
“I’m not going to do anything stupid. I’m already sick and still slightly in pain.” He says, running a hand over his face. “I just want to go to bed.”
“You’re sick?” Jean questions.
“It’s only a head cold, seriously.” They both stand, and Jean guides him to the front door. They stand there in an awkward silence, both searching for something to say.
“Are you... okay with hugs?” Jean asks, and Diluc looks surprised at the question.
“Yes.” He says, a little too quickly. “Just... let me know beforehand, or I might punch you. Or worse.”
She huffs a laugh at that, nodding her head as she says, “Of course.”
Then, she opens her arms sheepishly. Diluc stares for a moment, internally fighting himself before he finally gives in and puts his arms around her. Jean smiles to herself in a silent victory, even as he pulls away sooner than she’d like.
“Alright then. I-“ He stumbles over his words. “Thank you.”
“For what?” Jean replies, tilting her head curiously.
“Well, for... being there for me. I know I don't really deserve it, after what I’ve done-“
“Do you want me to say all the things I said just before?” Jean threatens, completely serious.
“No! I mean... I meant the way I ignored you all.”
“Oh.” Jean softens.
“I’m... sorry. About that.” He was struggling, but he was still trying and that was good enough for Jean.
“I forgave you a long time ago.” She says with as much sincerity as she could muster, smiling at him.
He freezes, staring at her, searching desperately for anything that would indicate she’s lying. When he finds nothing...
He smiles back.
-
Kaeya might have made a mistake.
Climbing up the side of the winery at 5 in the morning probably wasn’t a very good idea, and honestly, he’s not entirely sure what his thought process had been.
He didn’t want to come through the font door since, A. It would be locked, and B. Adelinde would probably kill him for being awake this early.
And, apparently, that warrants him climbing up the side to the balcony he knows belongs to his brother’s bedroom.
And, apparently, all the skills in stealth he had been honing since he was four, didn’t fucking matter anymore.
Just as he made it to the balcony, hanging on to the bottom like a bat, the doors opened and his brother stood there staring at him like this was a normal event.
Kaeya stared back, feeling reminded of that time Crepus caught him beneath the Christmas tree one year, shaking his presents lightly to try and find out what they were.
“Hey-“
“What are you doing?” Diluc interrupted, resting his forearms on the handrail. Kaeya scrunched up his nose in fake offence.
“Rude. I was talking.”
“Okay.” Wow. “Why are hanging off of my balcony?”
“Just hanging.” Kaeya shrugged. Diluc stared at him, unimpressed. Kaeya stared back.
“Are you gonna help me up, or what?”
“No. You got this far, you can do it yourself.”
Kaeya groaned, pressing his feet against the brick wall to push himself up further, fingers desperately reaching out for the handrail that was just out of reach.
Diluc sighed like he was bored, turning around to face back inside, still leaning back on the handrail Kaeya was determined to reach. “O Romeo, Romeo. Wherefore art thou, Romeo?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Kaeya whispered to himself, right foot slipping and bringing him back to step one.
“Deny thy father and refuse thy name-“
“You’re a right bastard-”
“Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I will no longer be a Capulet.”
“Quite quoting Shakespeare and help me up, you fucking nerd.” Kaeya huffed, panting from exertion as he managed to grip onto the ledge with both hands.
“Not until you say the next line.”
“What?”
“Go on.”
“I don’t remember it.”
“Wrong. Go again.”
“You’re a bastard. I’m not saying it.”
“That implies that you do know it, so say it.”
Kaeya sighs, gritting his teeth as he steels himself for embarrassment.
“Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?” He hisses, grinding his teeth so hard he’ll probably end up with a headache later.
But, Diluc smiles, and suddenly his embarrassment is worth it.
A scarred hand appears in Kaeya’s vision. He takes it, letting out a quiet yelp as he’s all but heaved up onto the solid ground of the balcony. Kaeya stands, staring at the ground and then at Diluc. A singular lavender eye narrows.
“How can a singular human being be that strong?” Diluc shrugs, unbothered, and heads back into his room. Kaeya follows behind closely, shutting the glass doors to keep the early winter chill out. He takes a moment to breathe in that familiar scent of cedar and fir wood, turning to flop down onto the ridiculously large bed where his brother was already laying face down.
“God’s,” Kaeya starts, closing his eyes and forcing himself to not get too emotional over literally laying on his brother’s bed. “I haven’t heard that play in years. I thought you hated it. What’s wrong with you?”
“I think I’m delirious, honestly.” Diluc’s voice is muffled by the sheets, but Kaeya hears it nonetheless.
“How come?”
The redhead makes a non-committal sound, waving his hand dismissively. “Just... floaty.”
Kaeya hums.
“Don’t feel like killing anything.” Oh, well, that’s...
“That’s probably a good thing.” Kaeya opens his eyes, looking around at his brother who looked about ready to pass out. “Tired?”
Diluc begins to nod, only to be interrupted by a sudden sneeze. It’s silent until Kaeya snorts a laugh at his brother’s scrunched face.
“Fuckin’ cold.” Kaeya gasps dramatically, forcing himself into a sitting position to stare down at his brother.
“Diluc Ragnvindr, how dare you use such vulgar language!”
Diluc rolls his eyes, sitting up as well as he coughs into the crook of his arm. Kaeya watches him closely, concern filling his gaze, but Diluc waves him off.
“I’m fine, really.”
“Uh huh.” Kaeya says, completely unconvinced. “I know what you’re like.”
“I swear, I’m fine. It’s just a cold.” Diluc says, standing up and making his way over to the bookshelf in his room. Kaeya follows him with his gaze, before he opts to look around the room instead.
It’s been... too long, since he’s been in here.
It doesn’t feel quite real. He expected their relationship to have been almost entirely changed, but nothing really has. They’ve fallen back into that same rhythm from all those years ago with surprising ease. Sure, it’s been pretty rocky here and there, but even before Diluc had tried to-
Kaeya grits his teeth, moving on from that memory quickly.
Even before the incident, the two of them had already started to mend their relationship a little. They were much more civil with each other, no longer at the other’s throat for no reason.
“I was reading this the other day,” Kaeya is startled out of his thoughts when Diluc appears right before him, holding a thick book out. It was a hard back, a deep forest green colour with gold trimmings. The cover had an oil painting of two young men sitting under a tree together before a field of windwheel asters. ‘Here I Stand, As I Am’ written neatly in gold cursive.
“I thought you might like it.” He continues, voice almost a whisper. Kaeya takes the book, running a finger over the cover. He’s almost sure that he watched Diluc buy this book years ago, back when he was subjected to the embarrassment of his big brother picking him up from his junior knight’s training.
What made him think to give it to Kaeya now? It’s been almost seven years since he’s bought it. But Diluc looks anxious, so Kaeya smiles up at him.
“Well, I’ll be sure to read it.” Diluc smiles back, exhaling in relief. His face twists as he turns to cough again.
“God’s, this sucks.” He groans, swaying a bit where he stands.
Kaeya hums, giving him a once over. “I’ll get you some medicine once Adelinde wakes up.” He smirks playfully. “Wouldn’t want to wake her from her beauty sleep at such an hour.”
Diluc huffs a laugh, but he’s not looking at Kaeya. It’s not unusual for Diluc to zone out like this, but Kaeya is only worried about the dark liquid that wells up in his eyes like tears.
“Diluc!” He leaps up, frantically checking his brother’s face as black tears start to drip down his face. At first, he thinks it’s blood. It smells like blood, but blood isn’t black and it certainly doesn’t pour from your eyes unprovoked. “Oh, God’s. Fuck, Diluc.”
“This...” Diluc croaks, that same dark liquid dripping from his nose and onto the hardwood floors. “This isn’t supposed to happen.”
“Diluc-“ Kaeya calls but he doesn’t respond, eyes rolling to the back of his head as his body drops like dead weight. Kaeya screams.
-
Diluc’s vision was blurry, fading in and out as he stumbled through the freezing snow and ice. The cold crawled up around his boots and gripped at his legs, slowing him down and dragging him to the ground.
He cried out in numbed pain as his knees hit the sludge of mud and snow. Gritting his teeth, Diluc took a deep breath, forcing himself to rise to his feet again. Trembling legs give out under him and he falls once more, unable to catch himself as his head hits the ground. The cold seeps into his skin, his lips going numb whilst snow settles on his unmoving body.
He’s so tired. He can’t keep going any longer – wouldn’t be able to even if he wanted, his body was frozen stiff.
Staring out at the vast field of blinding white, Diluc’s breathing slowed as he finally gave up.
Dark boots came into his view, crunching in the snow. Using whatever strength he had left, Diluc turned his head and looked up, hope filling him as a familiar, blurry head of ginger hair appeared. Pale hands with the blood of thousands on them reached out to him.
“A-jax... H-help...”
-
Childe woke with a start, sucking in oxygen with a gasp. Almost immediately, warm hands were on him, stroking his hair and skin comfortingly and soft reassurances were whispered against his forehead. His own grasped onto whatever he could find, grounding himself as he fought to control his panicked breathing.
Soft lips were pressed to his sweaty forehead. Childe’s breathing soon matched the gentle rhythm of the hands caressing him, calming him down until he was able to think clearly.
“Are you alright?” The deep, baritone of a familiar voice filled with him comfort.
He was safe.
“Yeah, I-“ Childe swallowed harshly, trying to wet his painfully dry throat. He pushed himself into a sitting position, hunched over himself as he tangled his fingers into the silk sheets.
“Nightmare?” Zhongli asked, cor lapis veins casting a soft golden glow across the bedroom as a hand cupped his cheek.
Childe thought for a moment, scrambling to pick up the pieces of the dream before he forgot it all. It was a familiar scene, but not one in his dreams.
Something felt... off.
“I don’t think it was just a dream.”