Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Collei wakes up to a plethora of things. She’s cold, she’s sore, and she feels distinctly sick; a twist in her stomach that makes her think she ate something that her body didn’t necessarily agree with. Her mind is clouded, her head is pounding, and her body is struggling to listen to the commands she gives it. 

There’s a groan in her throat as she manages to peel her eyes open, finding herself in an unfamiliar bed with unfamiliar surroundings.

That’s a lie, actually. Collei knows exactly where she is. The more concerning bit is that she has no recollection of how she got there. Panic seizes her heart. Collei tries to push herself up, only to find that her arms are practically as stable as mint jelly, causing her to collapse back down onto the mattress. The drop—as meager as it had been—serves to make her head hurt worse. She clenches her eyes shut, desperate for anything to alleviate the pain. Collei’s half-convinced she’s going to hurl. Archons, when did the world become so… spinny?

“Careful, Collei,” a voice to her right chimes. Desperate for answers, she turns toward it, squinting. The first thing she properly registers is two pointy ears, dark in color, and drooping in her direction. She lethargically slides her gaze downward, finding Tighnari’s eyes, full of concern. 

Okay. Alright. So, Tighnari is with her. That’s more of a comfort, at least she isn’t alone. It still doesn’t necessarily answer why she’s all the way at the Bimarstan rather than her bed back at home like she’s decently convinced she should be, but in any case, it’s still a bit of a start. If he’s by her side, then that means she’s safe.

He was supposed to be with Cyno, though. Why would he be here with her? Again,why is she here? She can’t piece it together, her head hurts, and it’s beginning to frustrate her. Collei isn’t the strongest at many things, yes, but of all the things she knows she has significant proficiency in, it’s her memory. She should know, because most of the time, it does anything but help her; taunting her with horrid nightmares and flashbacks of times that were beyond her control. 

“Are you with us, baby?” another voice asks from her other side. It has to be Cyno; he’s the only person that has ever called her baby . She’s much too exhausted to try and get a look at him in order to confirm that, though. It makes enough sense. If she and Tighnari are here, then why not Cyno, too? She should probably try to answer him, but Collei doesn’t trust her mouth to listen to her brain. She doesn’t want to get sick; she hates getting sick. 

Weakly, she offers a confirmative hum. “Mhm.”

“Do you want us to help you sit up?” Tighnari asks softly, there’s such a thick undertone of worry in his voice, and Collei truly feels like she should know what caused it. She doesn’t like not knowing. It’s admittedly beginning to creep on her, a ball of anxiety in her chest that only grows and grows with each second that passes by without answers. “You can get some more rest, if you’d like. We’re right here—both Cyno and I.”

She shakes her head—barely, but hopefully enough to get her point across. Collei doesn’t want to go back to sleep; she’s not even sure she’ll be able to with how badly her head aches. She recalls having a headache before bed last night, but it hadn’t nearly been this bad. It certainly didn’t seem like it was worth going to the Bimarstan for, either.

Cyno mutters something that Collei can’t quite pick up, but when Tighnari responds to him in just as hushed of a tone, she figures that it wasn’t meant for her in the first place. 

All of a sudden, there’s a set of arms behind her, lifting her up. Collei can easily discern them as Cyno’s. They’re gentle, and soon enough, she’s propped up against the bedframe with a few pillows serving as a cushion between her spine and the hardwood. She forces her eyes to open up all the way again, wincing as the pain momentarily spikes. 

“How are you feeling?” Tighnari questions in the same moment that Cynos stand up in her peripheral vision. She doesn’t see where he goes, but the distance digs ever so slightly into her heart. 

Collei knows that she should at least try to give him a response; that her continued silence is only going to get him more worried than he already is. She fights past the nausea, finding that her mouth is really dry, like it had been full of cotton.

 Leveling herself with a deep breath, she manages a small reply. “Not… great.” 

“That’s alright. Thank you. Cyno will be back in a few minutes, he’s just getting Zakariya. He’s here to help you out, make sure you’re feeling better,” Tighnari breaks off into a light ramble, his fingers tapping absentmindedly against his knee. Collei frowns, noticing that his pants are torn—did he get into a fight? “Is there anything ‘not great’ in particular?”

“Um…” Thankfully, it seems as if her stomach hasn’t chosen to betray her. She tries to swallow down some saliva, desperate to get her mouth feeling less numb. “My head hurts, ‘nd I feel kinda sick.”

“Alright, I see,” he says quickly with a slight nod. He glances at something beyond her. “Do you think you could try to drink some water for me? Just a little bit, I promise. It might help with your headache.”

Tighnari’s probably right, he usually is with these types of things. Besides; it would also probably feel nice along her throat. “Okay.”

He stands, stepping around the perimeter of the bed she lays in. She spares a glance toward where Cyno had been sitting, finding a side table with a pitcher of water set on top of it. Tighnari’s pouring some of it into a paper cup. He doesn’t bother returning to where he had previously sat, taking Cyno’s place and offering her the cup.

“You’ve got it?” he asks, voice vacant of any tease that might have been there in any other situation. Collei isn’t truly sure, but she nods nonetheless, taking it into her shaking hands. She notices that there are a few clean bandages wrapped around her left one, and the unease sets back into her bones. Her hand wasn’t hurt when she turned in for the night, of that much she is completely certain. “Collei?”

Right. She’s supposed to be drinking the water. 

Collei brings the cup up to her lips with more effort than she’d prefer—it’s like an Eleazar flareup all over again, and oh how she hated those more than anything—and downs the small portion in only a few sips. Belatedly, Collei realizes how thirsty is. It’s vaguely akin to the days she spent wandering, sometimes having to go a few days without water that was safe to drink, and it only serves as a realization that deepens her discomfort. At least it does, in fact, soothe the raging migraine. It’s most definitely not gone, but it dulls. 

Still. Something is very, very, wrong. And Collei has no clue what it is. 

As she reaches to hand the cup back to Tighnari, she notices another bandage wrapped around her elbow – that one hadn’t been there, either. The clothing she wears is unfamiliar, too. The Bimarstan doesn’t often have their patients change unless it was serious, and even then, Collei knows firsthand that this isn’t anything like a hospital gown. She hold back a shudder.

“Tighnari?” she asks, voice small. His ears perk up at the call of his name and he leans in closer to her, prompting her to go on with his silence. “Why am I… what happened?”

He opens his mouth to speak, but stops as Cyno returns. The Bimarstan’s doctor is in tow. Collei’s seen him a few times, he’s not somebody foreign to her, but he’s not somebody very familiar, either. She hunches in on herself a bit as Cyno wordlessly returns to her side. Zakariya stands at the foot of her bed.

“Collei,” he says delicately. “It’s good to see that you’re feeling more like yourself. I’ve just gone over a few details with your father, and he will fill you in on them. You will have to stay the night for observation, and while I understand that you are not the most comfortable with this, it is unfortunately non-negotiable. Though, I am able to allow your personal visitation hours to last throughout the remainder of your stay so that you can feel more secure. I’ll let the General Mahamatra go through the rest with you.”

With that, he walks off, leaving her with an only larger cloud of confusion hovering over her. Something happened. Obviously something happened, she’s at the Bimarstan, but something bad happened and Collei has entirely no recollection of it.

She can’t breathe.

“Baby,” Cyno says quickly, reaching for her unbandaged hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. Then, he begins to rub slow circles into the back of it; something subtle, yet something that grounds her all the same. “Breathe. You’re okay, Collei.”

“I don’t—” she chokes. Cyno is quick to shush her; taking in a deep breath of his own, waiting for her to mirror his actions. He repeats it a few times, patient as Collei copies him rather sloppily. Her whole body still feels wobbly, her lungs included. Only once she has calmed, though, does he nudge her to speak again. Collei can’t bring her voice higher than a whisper. Her stomach rolls again. “I don’t know what’s going on. It—it’s scaring me. Please tell me what’s going on.”

Cyno and Tighnari exchange a look with one another. They do this often, having silent conversations with nothing more than their eyes. It’s sweet, yet agonizing all the same how well they’re attuned to one another. She doesn’t understand them in these moments. Tighnari hesitates, Collei can see it in the quick glance he gives to the ground and the way he worries his lip. Eventually, though, he nods.

“I will preface by promising you that everything has been or is actively being handled, you are safe,” Cyno begins, his words an assurance that does absolutely nothing to calm Collei’s nerves. She bites her tongue, though, waiting for him to spit it out. His hold on her hand tightens. 

“You were kidnapped.” He struggles to piece together the rest of his words. “By the Fatui.”

However cold she was before, she’s colder now as her blood turns to ice in her veins. Collei’s breath hitches, an edge of panic encroaching upon her. Is this one of his not-funny jokes? By all means, she knows that it isn’t—Cyno would never utilize her trauma in an attempt to draw out laughter—but if that were to have happened, she would have at least remembered the actual kidnapping. 

“Collei, are you alright?” Tighnari cuts into the silence, his voice thick with concern. Collei forces herself to nod, clinging onto Cyno tightly as she racks through her memories for what must have been the umpteenth time in the past half hour. There’s nothing there. Had he, The Doctor, messed with her mind? Was that something he could do?

“Talk to us,” Cyno prompts gently. “What are you thinking about right now? You don’t have to process this alone.”

She holds back a sob. “I don’t remember.”

“You were drugged,” Tighnari explains succinctly, his tone suggesting that there’s more to the statement he either doesn’t want to talk about or isn’t sure how to explain to her. “You’ve been drugged. You’ve woken up a few times prior to now, but you weren’t… you were very out of it, to put it simply. It’s been a little under two days. We got to you as quickly as we could. The reason you’re staying overnight for observation is because you had a seizure from an overdose. They want to monitor you, to be safe. It’s highly unlikely anything will happen, but it’s important to be safe rather than sorry.”

“How?” Collei croaks, too many questions trying to fight their way to the tip of her tongue. How had they found her? How had the Fatui managed to drug her in the first place? How did none of this stick with her? How doesn’t she remember a seizure? How did she let this happen?

“It wasn’t your fault,” Cyno says firmly. At that, a look of guilt crosses Tighnari’s expression. He makes a pointed effort to look anywhere but at her. “Things were out of our control. It isn’t going to happen again.”

She shuffles uncomfortably. They’re talking about more than just a kidnapping. “What isn’t going to happen again?”

Tighnari doesn’t meet her—or Cyno’s, for that matter—gaze, his arms crossed over his stomach as his tail beats against the side of the chair, his ears pinning themselves flat against his head. He’s going to split his lip soon if he keeps chewing on it. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes quietly. Collei can’t even begin to fathom what he’s apologizing to her for. 

“I should have stayed with you, I left you, and—” he stops himself, tears forming in his eyes. Collei can’t remember the last time she’s seen him cry, but then again, apparently there’s quite a bit that she doesn’t remember. “I let this happen to you. And for that, I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” Cyno sighs, his own tone filled with a particular sadness. “You didn’t do anything, Tighnari. If you had been aware of what was going on, you would have stopped it. You couldn’t have possibly known that the food was—”

“I should have known, Cyno,” Tighnari cuts him off. He composes himself a bit, but the tears still fall. He forces his breathing to even out before he dares continue to speak. “I am in charge, I should know what my own damn rangers are doing, especially when it concerns where their loyalties lie.”

What—

Oh.

Dread pools in Collei’s stomach, the ball of anxiety expanding so much so that it hurts to breathe. She can’t breathe, actually, Collei realizes with a slight delay. Her throat’s gone and closed up, and she can’t breathe. 

Gandharva Ville was supposed to be safe. But somebody still betrayed them—betrayed her. She shouldn’t have so blindly given out her trust. Shouldn’t have let her guard down. People are not inherently good, and Archons, Collei shouldn’t have ever let herself be blinded enough by kindness to forget that. 

She can’t breathe.

Out of nervous habit, she reaches up to fidget with her hair – to roll the longer strands around her fingers until her fingertips turn blue – but it’s not there. Panicked, her hand moves toward the back of her neck, skin making contact with skin, the ends of her hair brushing against her knuckles. It’s not supposed to be like that, it’s supposed to be covered up, she’d spent so long—

She can’t fucking breathe.  

“Collei. Collei,” Cyno all but desperately pulls her attention onto him. With one palm, he cups her cheek, pulling her into looking at him. His other continues to rub circles into her skin. “You’re alright, you’re safe. Remember: everything has been, or is currently being handled. Breathe with me.”

The pathetic whine that leaves her throat as she tries to drag in air should be enough to signal to the world that she’s a lost cause, but Cyno does not stop. For that, Collei tries again. And again. And again. 

“My—it’s gone,” she sobs desperately. It’s stupid, it’s childish, it’s nonsensical. It’s gone. So much is gone. The entire past day, her trust in the good of people, her progress, her hair. It’s short. Collei hates it short. She clings onto Cyno as she completely falls apart, mourning everything she’s lost. It isn’t fair. 

All Cyno can do is beg her to breathe. Collei thinks he might be crying, too. 

She knows that the arms that wrap around her belong to Tighnari even without seeing him. She stays like that, crumbling, with the two people she loves most on either side of her. Grounding her. 

Eventually, though, she pulls away. Cyno lets her ease back against the headboard, and Tighnari moves to sit at the end of the mattress. His eyes are glistening, his skin red and blotchy. 

Cyno clears his throat. “Do you think I should cut mine? Shearly, I’d look good. Wouldn’t you agree, Tighnari?”

Tighnari’s caught off guard—Collei would be lying if she said that she wasn’t, either; the absurdity of it is enough to distract her from her sorrow—his eyes widening as he sputters, struggling to put his words out of his mouth. Cyno waits expectantly for a response.

“I’m inclined to disagree solely because of that atrocious pun,” Tighnari says with a light laugh. “But that would be my only reason. In all honesty, it would. You know, he didn’t start growing his hair out until we graduated, Collei.”

She frowns, turning back to Cyno. “You like your hair.”

“Collei,” Cyno starts softly. “I hair about you more. It will grow back. We can do it together, would you like that?”

“I’d offer to join you two, but, well…” Tighnari trails off, a teasing smile on his lips. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but Collei still likes to see it over seeing him in tears. “I wouldn’t be doing very much, and I most certainly don’t trust Cyno with a pair of scissors.”

To her surprise, she manages a giggle. “I could do it.”

“You can do his,” Tighnari snorts. Cyno nods his head, there isn’t much of an expression on his face, but Collei has learned to read him easily. He’s content, a mixture of proud and excited. “See? He’s a willing model.”

“Mhm,” Cyno affirms. “And don’t worry, Collei. I trust you with the scissors. Tighnari is going to be very jealous. We can do it as soon as you get home, how about that?”

“Can we stay with you for a bit?” Collei asks quietly before she can fully think the question through. The surprise on both of their faces is not well-masked by any means. It’s stupid, is the thing. It’s entirely stupid. Cyno’s told her multiple times already that they handled everything, which probably means that any dangers back in Gandharva Ville are completely gone, but she can’t shake the dark thoughts that pull at her, trying to drown her in fear. She pulls her hand away from Cyno, crossing her arms over her stomach. “Sorry. Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

Tighnari snaps out of his stupor first. “No, don’t apologize, Collei. That’s completely alright by me. His apartment is just as much your home as Gandharva Ville is, you never have to apologize for wanting to spend time there. It… admittedly could be good for you.”

“You’re always welcome,” Cyno says, his voice soft. His hand stays where it had been; he doesn’t bother to move it now that it is serving no purpose. “Everything is already in order. We can head over in the morning once you’re discharged.”

Collei’s only ever actually stayed at Cyno’s apartment a few times before, something that doesn’t make sense considering how full her room is there. He has a habit of often getting her gifts, but not having the time to bring them to her. So, instead, he puts them in her room. It’s sweet, and every time she visits and sees more things added to her collection, she feels warm. It’s a comfortable space. An untainted one, too.

“I can pick up some of our essentials from Gandharva Ville,” Tighnari hums, fingers fiddling with the blanket beneath him. “Cuilein-Anbar, surely. A change of clothes for you as well, and you’ll also need your books. Is there anything I’m not thinking of?”

“Um…” Collei tries to think of her room, unable to picture anything that Tighnari hasn’t already mentioned. She doesn’t actually use that many things in her day-to-day life, though that doesn’t mean she doesn’t enjoy the prospect of having things. It’s a little feeling that makes her a bit giddy—she has plenty at Cyno’s, too. “No. I think that’s it.”

“Alright, I’ll make the trip to get everything later,” Tighnari bobs his head quickly, mentally jotting down the list before recentering his focus on her. “How are you feeling right now?”

“Better,” Collei answers truthfully. Her headache has nearly dissipated, now only a quiet thrum in the back of her head. Her stomach still feels queasy, yet more from anxiety than genuine sickness. 

Cyno smiles, genuinely. “Do you think you could eat something right now?”

Collei pauses. It’s irrational, she’s well aware that it is, but the thought of eating something right now when she doesn’t know where it’s going to come from is terrifying. Neither Cyno or Tighnari would try to hurt her, of that much she is confident, but it’s apparently already happened once beneath Tighnari’s nose. It could happen again. There could be Fatui nearby, hiding, waiting for a moment to strike and drag her back kicking and screaming. 

Except she wouldn’t be kicking and screaming, because she’d be unconscious. An overdose, she had overdosed . Back when she had Eleazar, it had been something Tighnari was consistently drilling into her when it came to her pain medication: overdoses are extremely dangerous and one should never push themselves to the point of one. It could just happen, and she would die without even knowing it. Collei could go to sleep, and simply never wake up.

Food is not an appealing thought. “I’m not hungry. Sorry.”

Cyno’s expression immediately falls, yet he tries his best to school himself. He exchanges a subtle glance with Tighnari, but doesn’t push her further. She’s thankful for it.

Collei’s not sure how much time has passed since she woke up, but it’s starting to look like the sun is going to set soon. Two days—almost—he had said. She’s essentially lost two days. That’s… a bit terrifying to think about.

“That’s alright,” Tighnari mutters gently after a few moments, his voice slightly pinched; it’s hardly noticeable. “I’m sure that you’re still exhausted.” She is, actually. A yawn fights its way past her defenses at the mention of it. He chuckles, an airy and comforting noise. “How about this? Can you drink a little more water before getting some rest? Cyno and I won’t leave your side.”

“Um… yeah.” Collei had already drank some of the water earlier, and it had been alright. Furthermore, since that point, nobody else had come remotely close to the pitcher; it’s safe. “I can do that.”

Tighnari moves to pour her another cup, her hands shaking a little less as she moves to take it this time. Pacing herself, she finishes it off, once again setting the cup back down on the nightstand. Cyno reaches toward her, helping to ease her back down and onto the mattress while Tighnari tucks the blankets in around her. 

“We’ve got you,” the fox reiterates, leaning down and placing a soft kiss atop her forehead. Cyno does the same thing as soon as Tighnari pulls back. Collei lets their presence surround her like a shield and allows for her eyes to slip shut, her exhaustion already prepared to claim her.

She trusts that so long as they are with her, she is safe. They would protect her. So, with that, Collei welcomes the dark abyss that is sleep.

…

The morning goes by without much fanfare. 

She wakes up early to Tighnari slumped over himself in his seat and Cyno wide awake, eyes vigilant as he sits stoically by her side. When Collei’s head tilts to make eye contact with him, he gives her a light smile, a soft whisper of good morning on his tongue. She mumbles something along similar lines back to him, and lets her head fall back against the pillow.

Zakariya comes by shortly after, once Tighnari has awoken, and asks her a few questions. He checks some of her vitals, and Cyno holds her hand as she squirms. Still, Collei manages to hold the majority of her panic at bay. She gets discharged shortly after, with the assurance that she’ll be alright and will have no permanent repercussions from what had happened to her.

It’s disconcerting, still, to know that she had come dangerously close to death yet to have no recollection of it whatsoever. Collei can’t tell if it’s better that way.

A memory comes to the forefront of her mind; it’s old, a bit muddled but prominent enough in her nightmares that she knows she will never truly forget it. It had been towards the beginning of the Fatui’s experiments with the Archon Residue, before the others had begun dropping like flies from the cruelty of it all. Collei remembers being pinned down against a cold table—she had a reputation, after all—and convincing herself that she was going to die as her vision whited out from pure pain.

In actuality, she had. Her heart had stopped for a few minutes. But they had managed to bring her back, and for a long time, Collei had been furious about it. Now, though, she has this family, these friends—Amber, Tighnari, Cyno, Kaveh, Alhaitham, Faruzan, Nilou—Collei’s thankful that she had come back. She’s thankful that they didn’t give up on her when she thought she would never get better.

Even now that it feels like the foundation she’d built up beneath herself is crumbling, she knows that they are the good people in her life. 

Collei’s struggling to say the same for others, and she hates it. If she’d been betrayed by somebody she’s lived with for years, how can she possibly begin to assess those relationships she has? Helping Shirin restock her medicine cabinets when neither of them can sleep, training the watch dogs with Amir in her free time, learning new recipes with Ashpazi because she’d picked an abundance of ingredients on patrol—how much of it was real? How much of it matters?

Food. Cyno had mentioned her food, it was how she had been drugged – that night, the food had been Kamran’s job. 

The worst part is that Collei can’t actually say she’s surprised he had been the one to do it. Kamran has never been particularly fond of her, but for so long, Tighnari had been assuring her that he was just a blunt person as well as a perfectionist. It was for that reason Collei always went above and beyond to do her work super well and did her best to stay out of his way. She never gave him a reason to dislike her, yet he did. To drug her so that the Fatui could get their claws on her…

It’s not surprising, but it’s not especially easy to process, either. She had done everything right; as far as she knows, at least. 

She’s spiraling, isn’t she?

Collei reels herself back into the moment, finding that there is now a wheelchair at her bedside. Cyno’s setting a change of clothes at the foot of her bed. She furrows his eyebrows, giving him a look of confusion.

“A little after you went to sleep, I ran a quick errand to my father’s house. He lives just around the corner,” Cyno explains without further prompting. He unfolds the topmost item, showing her the white tunic. Collei can tell that the rest of the pile has some loose pants and undershorts. “They’re mine, from when I was a little older than you are now. I, ah, figured that you might want to change into something else before we leave. I know that they aren’t yours, but…”

“Oh, um—no, it’s okay. Yeah. I’d definitely like to change,” Collei hums in response, feeling slightly exposed with nothing more than an oversized shirt covering her up. The blankets definitely help, but they’d probably drag on the ground if she tried to cover up with one in the wheelchair.

Usually, she’d protest against using one. She always did whenever she had to come to the Bimarstan for a particularly difficult Eleazar flareup, determined to prove that she could keep going, but, at this moment, she doesn’t trust her legs to not give out beneath her. And, further along that train of thought, she tilts toward Tighnari.

“Could you, uhm, help me to the changing area, please?” She asks quietly. Collei knows that in no world would Tighnari deny her any help, but she still holds the smallest amount of guilt for having to ask such ridiculous things of him. 

As anticipated, Tighnari nods without a second’s hesitation. “Of course.”

He stands, moving to take Collei’s hands into his and waiting patiently for her to push her legs over the side of the cot. Cyno hands him the pile of clothes, which he quickly tucks beneath his arm before helping pull Collei to her feet. As anticipated, she almost immediately stumbles before Tighnari positions himself as a crutch, holding up the brunt of her weight.

It takes longer than Collei would have liked to get to the curtained-off area of the Bimarstan, but as soon as they’re there, Tighnari helps her sit down on a small bench within it before setting the heap of clothing down beside her. Then, he pauses.

“Do you need any help getting changed?” he asks. Collei’s cheeks heat up with embarrassment as she stares down at the ground, emphatically shaking her head. 

She clears her throat awkwardly. “No, no! I’m okay. I’ll call for you when I’m done.”

“Alright. I’ll be right outside if you need anything, let me know if you need me for any reason,” Tighnari nods, careful as always not to push her boundaries too far. The only times he ever does is when he knows she’s lying about her wellbeing, which she’s been training herself to stop doing since the recession of her Eleazar.

He slips out, sliding the curtain shut behind him. Collei can hear the thud of his boots stop shortly after as he places himself in front of the entrance, sticking close, just as he had said. She wastes no more time, picking up the pair of undershorts and bending over to feed her ankles through the fabric, pulling them up her legs with minimal shuffling. 

With that done, Collei already feels a little less vulnerable. She changes out of the dirty shirt, slipping the clean one over her head shortly after. As she does so, she notes that the skin along her stomach and sides have a few splotches of adhesive; Collei easily recognizes it from all of the heart monitors she used to be hooked up to nearly all the time. Archons. She really needs to take a bath soon.

The pants are next, and funnily enough, they fit snugly. Cyno’s not too much bigger than her now, but it’s still amusing to think that he hadn’t been too different from how she is now in size back when he was closer to her age. Still, she spends a few minutes tying the drawstrings into a small bow just in case. Her fingers are numb.

With a weak voice, she calls out for Tighnari. It doesn’t really matter, though, he would have heard her even if she had whispered. “I’m done.”

Tighnari pulls the curtain open, balling up the dirty shirt and once again helping Collei to her feet. She doesn’t stumble this time, but that’s probably because Tighnari had been holding onto her more firmly than before. She leans into his side as they walk back toward Cyno, who had come a bit closer with the wheelchair while she’d been changing.

Collei makes no commentary as she bonelessly drops into the seat, leaning back as Cyno towers over her, a lighthearted smirk on his lips. “You know, I wheel-y think that we should start heading out. What do you think?”

“I think that was a horrible joke,” Tighnari groans. Even without physically seeing him, Collei’s mind presents his annoyed expression to her: eyes half-lidded, mouth pulled into a taut line. She giggles. “Collei, don’t encourage him. You’re going to convince him that he’s actually funny, and it’ll just inflate his ego.”

“Hey,” Cyno huffs. “I am very funny. If you’ll recall, Lesser Lord Kusanali herself agrees. Do you truly question the stance of your Archon?”

“I question the stance of somebody who has never heard a joke prior to meeting you.”

She only laughs harder. The majority of her body is sore, yet her heart has calmed down for the most part. Collei knows that they’re hardly out of the thick of it—the thought of going back to Gandharva Ville at the moment makes her nervous—but at the very least, the walls aren’t closing in. She can breathe. 

Cyno starts to push her out of the Bimarstan, careful to avoid areas of the path that are bumpier than the rest. Collei settles into the rhythm of the movement, although she shrinks into herself each time they pass by people. It’s still early, so there aren’t too many people out and about yet, but the people who are give her lingering stares, and it makes her skin crawl.

It’s not super helpful that Cyno’s apartment is practically in the center of the city. But, still, it’s a comfortable and safe place. Collei knows that as soon as they get there and settle down a little bit, she’ll be fine. 

If Tighnari or Cyno notice that she wraps her arms around herself and squeezes, they don’t mention it. Still, Tighnari not-so-subtly beats his tail over the arm of the wheelchair, the soft fur rubbing against the skin of her arm. With not-so-nimble fingers, Collei begins to absentmindedly play with it. 

“Are you hungry, Collei?” Cyno asks eventually. Collei recognizes that Puspa Cafe is nearby, and while she’s aware that she most certainly is hungry, she shakes her head. She can wait until she feels well enough to prepare something herself. 

So, she lies through her teeth. “No. Not yet.”

“You haven’t eaten in a few days,” Tighnari points out, tone gentle and dripping with worry. “Can you please try to have something? It doesn’t have to be much.” He sighs. “I’d feel much better knowing that you had food in your stomach, even if it’s only a few bites.”

And, oh, he’s going there. Collei squirms under his and Cyno’s gaze. Tighnari doesn’t usually try to attribute her actions to his own personal feelings, so as to not guilt her into doing anything she doesn’t want to do. But for him to be actively doing that means that he’s scared. It makes Collei feel like a monster when she opens her mouth to speak again. “I’ll, uhm, have something in a bit. Promise. I just—want to get to Cyno’s already, is that okay?”

Tighnari might as well have fallen into pieces right then in there. He schools his expression before weakly giving her a nod, eyes downcast and full of sorrow. He fidgets with his hands, and the three of them move past the cafe without stopping. 

His apartment is only a few minutes away, anyway.

Cyno stops outside of the front entrance, fumbling through his pockets for the key and swiftly unlocking the door. He opens it up, and Tighnari takes his former position; pushing Collei inside as Cyno locks up behind them. Once indoors, the two adults kick off their shoes. Tighnari crouches down in front of her.

“Where do you want to be right now?” he inquires lightly. “The couch is open, and your room is all ready for you, if you’d like to go back to sleep. Just let us know. You know, Cyno has the ingredients for one of your favorite meals. Fried radish balls. Are you interested?”

Collei’s eyes widen; it’s been a while since she’s had those, and they would definitely be really nice to have. Yet… She trusts Tighnari and Cyno wholeheartedly, but there’s a chorus in the back of her mind that screams at her, tells her not to take the bait. She chews on the inside of her cheek, her gaze darting between Tighnari, Cyno, and the small kitchen off in the corner.

She has an idea. “Could I help?”

“I don’t think that you should be doing very much with appliances at the moment, love,” Tighnari frowns. “You could burn yourself on the oil; I’d prefer it if you had a little more time for everything to clear out of your system entirely before helping out with anything.”

Her mouth opens to protest, but Cyno does it for her. There’s a small change in his expression as he looks at her, and before she knows it, he’s speaking. “On the contrary, it could help her feel a little more steady on her feet. She doesn’t have to do the frying, but I have no qualms if she helps out with the preparation.”

Tighnari still doesn’t look entirely convinced, but he’s smart enough to know when he isn’t going to win in an argument. “Very well. On the condition that one of us is next to her at all times. I don’t want any accidents to happen.”

Cyno’s already halfway into the kitchen, opening up his bag and pulling out a bag of flour and a sack of radishes—why he has had those in his bag this entire time, Collei has no idea—as Tighnari speaks. By the time he finishes, Cyno looks up, a small pot with growing spices in hand. “That sounds like a good plant.”

“Archons, why did I marry you?” Tighnari grumbles, ears flattening against his head as he pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. Collei stifles another laugh at the exchange.

“I don’t think you got the joke,” the General Mahamatra frowns, setting the pot down and retracing his steps, coming closer to the entryway where the two of them still remain. “I was suggesting that your compromise was a good plan, but as I was about to say that, I remembered that I have a chili plant on the counter. Plant and plan are very similar sounding words, so—”

“Stop. Just stop. Please, spare me,” the Valuka Shuna cuts him off. He ensures that the wheelchair’s brakes are in place before he stands back up, his ears beginning to return to their resting position. “Get back in the kitchen. Collei and I will be there in a moment.”

In all honesty, Collei is pretty sure that Tighnari likes Cyno’s jokes. Cyno told her once, that back when they had first met at the Akademiya, he had told one to Tighnari for the first time and he had simply walked away, citing to him the next day that it was completely ridiculous and nonsensical. Tighnari is more than fine with being wrong—usually because he hardly ever is—but his stance on Cyno’s jokes is one of the few things he probably doesn’t want to be caught being wrong about.

To Collei, they’re really a hit or miss. Sometimes they’re absurd and well-timed enough to actually be funny, while other times, it’s just not landing no matter how badly he tries.

She lets Tighnari take her hands. He’s stronger than he looks, pulling her to her feet effortlessly. And, just like at the Bimarstan, Collei uses Tighnari’s body as a crutch. It’s annoying, how her legs don’t want to listen to her, but at the very least it should get better once she rests a little bit more. 

Cyno has already pulled out almost everything they’re going to need—three bowls, a pot set on the stove, and a bundle of ingredients. 

Collei starts measuring out the flour and spices, sifting them all together until it smells about right. Her hands still shake, but she’s confident that it won’t be for long. It’s all a lot, these past few days. It’s overwhelming in ways she can’t even begin to fully process, and mortifying in ways that she can. 

It’s still difficult to come to terms with the simple fact that she’d been betrayed. Even harder to accept that she’d been back in the Fatui’s grasp without a single memory to show for it; she’s sore yet not in pain, and to some degree, that’s nerve-wracking. Had they done anything to her? Were they going to do anything to her?

It’s a stupid question, because she already knows what they were going to do to her. There aren’t that many reasons to cut her hair off, after all. Cyno and Tighnari don’t have to tell her, and they probably aren’t going to unless she asks. She’s still here, so obviously, it didn’t happen. It’s not a concern. 

In any case, Collei would be lying if she said that she was okay. Lying even more if she said that she wasn’t scared, because Archons, she’s terrified now that she knows her bubble of safety wasn’t truly as safe as she had let herself believe.

But it’s going to be fine. She’s going to be fine. 

…

Collei doesn’t think she’s going to be fine.

It’s been a week and she still can’t eat anything unless she makes it herself, which she knows worries both Cyno and Tighnari but neither of them try to get her to do otherwise. She can’t sleep until she’s checked that her door and window are locked, and she can’t even look at herself in the mirror. She doesn’t like the person that’s staring back at her; tired eyes, short and limp curls hanging just past her ears. 

Cyno had to return to work after the first few days he’d spent at home with her and Tighnari, and Tighnari has been busy restructuring things with the rangers and Gandharva Ville. Collei overhears them talking at night, when they think she’s gone to sleep. She sits on the floor, her ear to the door, simply listening.

They’re scared for her. She doesn’t blame them: because she’s a little scared, too. 

Last night, they had been talking about loose ends. She didn’t pick up as much as she’d like to, but Cyno had mentioned that the Corps of Thirty had finished up work in Gandharva Ville—Tighnari had mumbled something about wishing he could have dealt with it himself—and that the Matra finished up investigating the location the Fatui had been holding her at. Words were said about recovering some stolen items, but Collei hadn’t been able to make out what exactly had been stolen. 

Still, for all intents and purposes, everything should be over. Why doesn’t it just feel over?

She’d gone to bed as restlessly as she had been doing for the rest of the week; blankets loose in case she needed to bolt, and a scream in her throat. More often than not, she ends up letting Cyno and Tighnari into her room in the middle of the night, and they fall asleep in a huddle on the floor. 

Cyno looks younger with his hair short. Collei’s sure that she does, too, but not in a way that she wants to think about too much. 

Once the drugs had flushed out of her system and she had slept for the near equivalent of a day, Collei was more steady on her feet. She’s been moving about Cyno’s apartment and doing daily tasks—mostly cooking—just fine. On this night, particularly, Collei is mindlessly preparing some pita pockets for dinner. They’re simple, easy, and aren’t going to leave her hand or sight once she’s done with them. They’re comfortable, and most importantly, they’re safe. 

Her hands find pause. Unless somebody had managed to tamper with the ingredients she’s using. That’s a possibility she hadn’t thought of yet. She wouldn’t have suspected a thing, having had assembled and cooked the entire meal prior to eating it. Collei pushes the cutting board she’d been using off to the side, beginning to poke and prod at the pitas she’d been about to fill.

It would be the easiest thing to tamper with—the milk, too—so she scans it thoroughly. She finds nothing out of the ordinary, but still. On second thought… Collei’s not very hungry tonight. It’s not worth the risk. 

“What’s wrong?” Tighnari probes as he steps into the kitchen, pulling the kettle off of the stovetop and pouring hot water into his teacup. “Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m okay,” Collei says quickly, her tone a mere shadow of what it had been prior to all of this. She begins to set her dishes into the sink, tossing the pita into the bin and pouring the remaining milk down the drain. They can get some fresher ones soon, so that they’ll definitely be safe. Sealed, fresh, and safe. “I just remembered that I had a big lunch. I’m not hungry right now.”

Cyno, from where he sits on the couch, looks up from his paperwork. “Are you certain? It’s been a few hours. Just because you don’t feel hungry, doesn’t mean your body doesn’t need nutrients.”

Collei swallows thickly, a sharp spike of anxiety cutting through her lungs and forcing her to struggle to get a steady breath in. She shuffles a bit before continuing to pick up after herself. She might as well be able to hear Cyno’s frown from the other end of the space. Tighnari sets his tea aside to steep, pulling Collei gently against his side. She gives easily.

His hand comes up and rests against her forehead, a habit he’s always had but has only increased in frequency since everything had happened.

There’s a knock on the door. She flinches from the surprise, an action that neither Cyno or Tighnari mirror. Still, there’s a look of confusion settling over Cyno’s features as he pushes himself to his feet and heads toward the door. Subtly, Tighnari places himself between her and where whoever the mystery guest would be, if they entered the apartment.

From the entryway, Collei can make out a very distinct voice. She freezes up a little bit, not yet having anticipated what to say to him.

Kaveh.

He wears his heart on his sleeve and is nearly as protective of her as Tighnari and Cyno are. He’s kind, sometimes a little too kind. He gets taken advantage of so easily because he goes above and beyond for others. 

Which is precisely why Collei’s nervous to face him. He’s going to want to help, and she doesn’t have the energy to have a third person doting over her every move. 

“My, that’s certainly a surprising new look on you, Cyno,” she hears him say. Then, he pokes his head inside, his eyes landing on her. Kaveh immediately lights up. “Ah, and Collei! Everybody’s matching.”

Collei is a little busy facing the realization that it would seem nobody has told him that something happened. That’s another variable that increases her anxiety, even if by just a little bit.

Tighnari clears his throat, a threatening note that’s a subtle effort to tell Kaveh that it isn’t the time for that. His hand rests on her shoulder, and he’s giving her a gentle squeeze. It’s grounding. “Kaveh. Hello. What brings you by?”

His expression shifts, picking up on the undertones and adjusting himself accordingly. Cyno waves him inside, shutting the door behind him and locking it quickly. Collei’s muscles ease ever so slightly, that added pincushion of safety enough to quell a small branch of her racing thoughts.

“Well, I heard that congratulations are supposedly in order,” Kaveh responds. Collei’s always thought his accent a little weird. It’s not really an accent, not really, but he always sounds so posh, barring when he’s been drinking. He doesn’t sound like he’s been drinking at the moment, though, so she can’t really piece together what he’s referring to. Beside her, Tighnari tenses up. “I am beginning to think that perhaps I misheard?”

Cyno coughs awkwardly. “Our plans had a slight change.”

“Did the appointment not go well?” Kaveh frowns, crossing his arms as he shifts his weight over to one leg. Neither Tighnari or Cyno say anything, evidently a little too stunned to speak. Oh—right. They had an appointment. That was the entire reason Tighnari had to leave Gandharva Ville and…

It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t either of their faults. She doesn’t blame them, and if anything, she blames herself to a certain degree; not that she would outwardly admit it to them. Still, her interest is piqued all over again. Tighnari was supposed to tell her what the appointment was about afterwards, but they’d gotten a little… distracted.

“It went fine,” Tighnari eventually pipes up. With his free hand, he checks on his tea and takes a tentative sip of it. He sets it back down to steep a little longer. “Something came up. We haven’t had a chance to talk about it yet.”

“Oh,” Kaveh sputters blandly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. Haitham mentioned that you two were staying with Cyno in the city for a little while, and I suppose I just assumed–”

“I’m going to, uhm, go to my room for a little bit,” Collei chimes. Kaveh stops, his eyebrows furrowing as his expression turns crestfallen. Tighnari looks at her, a question in his eyes. She chews on her lip and nods. It’ll be easier if she doesn’t have to be the one to explain anything. Probably better, too, considering she doesn’t actually know anything much for herself apart from the details she needed to know. “So you all can talk.”

Collei pulls away from Tighnari, and without looking back, she slips down the small hallway and into her room. With practiced ease, she locks the door and slides down against it; knees on hardwood and ear against oak. 

There’s movement, they’re all heading toward the couch, she thinks. It’s closer to her room, and she can’t help but flush because Tighnari most certainly knows she’s eavesdropping, and wants her to be able to without much strain. 

“Is she alright?” is Kaveh’s first question, eliciting a slight twinge of guilt in her gut. Is it that obvious? She’d barely even said anything—though, that might be the issue. She does tend to be a little more excitable whenever around Kaveh. Most of the time, at least. He’s funny. 

“Not yet,” Cyno responds bluntly. “She will be.” She hopes, at the very least. She hasn’t exactly been making much progress. “Apologies. We thought Alhaitham might’ve filled you in on everything, but I see that was wishful thinking on our part.”

“Haitham knows?” Kaveh tosses back, surprise strong in his voice. His emotions always are, he doesn’t hide much of anything when he speaks. It’s one of the many things Collei likes about him; he can keep a conversation going, and she doesn’t often have to ask him follow-up questions to figure out how she’s supposed to respond to him. “I—sorry. Archons, did something happen. No, that’s an atrocious question, obviously something happened. I just—”

“You want to ask what happened, but you’re not sure how to ask that, specifically,” Tighnari surmises. There’s silence, and Collei’s willing to bet that Kaveh nods sheepishly. Even from her room, Tighnari’s sigh is audible. “The crude rundown is that somebody kidnapped her while I wasn’t there to protect her, and she’s still working through everything. She doesn’t remember any of it, and it’s… overwhelming for her. We haven’t brought up the appointment with her yet because we didn’t want to add to that burden.”

For a few minutes, she can’t hear a single thing. She pushes herself further against the door, but still, there’s nothing. Then, there’s another brush of movement.

“Who did it?” Kaveh asks dangerously. Collei’s heard him angry before, he’s kind of angry all the time at a lot of things, but she’s never heard him sound downright bloodthirsty. It’s a little chilling, is all.

“It’s already been dealt with,” Cyno mutters. The silence stretches again before he seemingly decides whether or not it’s worth sparing further detail. “One of the forest rangers has been taken into custody by the Corps of Thirty. The Fatui squadron that orchestrated everything was disposed of in… self defense.”

“A forest ranger?” Kaveh parrots, rage melting into shock. “Gods. Did—did they harm her?”

No, Collei thinks. They didn’t. Yet, still, she’s somehow managed to come home broken and in shambles. 

“She’s fine now, from a physical standpoint,” Tighnari cuts in. He’s starting to sound a little angry, but still keeps his fury under control for the most part. He was probably terrifying to anybody that crossed him before he and Cyno found her. “There were… complications with the drugs they had used on her. The Bimarstan monitored her condition, and she shouldn’t have any long-lasting issues for it.”

Right. Right, she had a seizure. It feels wrong, almost, to hear about all these things that had happened to her, had been done to her, and to not remember a single second of it. If it weren’t for the bruises on her arms or the air she can feel against the back of her neck, Collei wouldn’t even believe that it had actually occurred.

“Mentally, on the other hand…” Cyno trails off, tone going soft. Sorrowful. “I’d be lying if I said that we aren’t concerned. She’s eating, but barely. She won’t trust anything unless she’s directly prepared it herself, and it isn’t sustainable. She’s exhausted. I–” he chokes up. “ –I don’t know what to do. She’s gone through far too much.”

“The hair wasn’t a voluntary choice,” Tighnari quietly adds, but not so quiet that Collei misses it entirely. She curls up, fingernails leaving indents in the skin of her palms. “Cyno cut his off so that she would feel less alone, but she’s still upset, not that she’s admitting it. It would perhaps be best not to mention it much. She’ll have to build back her confidence steadily.”

“Have you considered that surprising her might cheer her up?” Kaveh offers. Cyno and Tighnari sit in the silence, and Collei isn’t able to imagine what their faces might look like at the moment. “She’s smart. You two are aware of that without me reminding you. Ask her. If she wants to know, she’ll say as such. It may just be what she needs at the moment.”

“I suppose,” Tighnari sighs again. This, Collei can picture. He’ll be sitting down, his hands fidgeting in front of his body as his tail curls around his waist in a comforting gesture. “Alright. We’ll talk with her about it before bed.” Then, she hears his voice turn to scrutiny. “Kaveh. What are you planning?”

“Is she doing anything tomorrow night? Kaveh asks, a deeper intent behind the question that Collei’s unable discern. Kaveh has a lot of ideas; he’s a genius, always creating and producing something beautiful to show for it. Yet, that doesn’t mean that there aren’t often times where he is the sole being that understands those ideas prior to execution. 

Cyno falters. “I would assume not, no. She hasn’t gone outside since we’ve gotten back, and all she’s been doing indoors is resting and cooking. She’ll read occasionally, but never for very long. Why do you ask?”

“I’m merely thinking. Just reach out to me if you need anything at all, I’d love to support her in any way that I can,” Kaveh responds. There’s a little more movement as he presumably stands up before the voices get further away and become harder to pick apart. It’s only a few more minutes until the front door opens and closes, the lock clicking behind it. 

There are more quiet murmurs, and Collei takes that as her cue to roll away from the door. She pushes herself up and heads for her bed, now unmade and littered with a mess of stuffed toys, the only ones still near the pillow being Cuilein-Anbar and a little Aranara that Cyno had made for her from scratch. It’s just as bad as most of his jokes, but is one of her favorites all the same. 

As soon as she’s made herself comfortable beneath the blankets, there’s a rap of knuckles against the doorjamb. She makes a noncommittal noise, urging her guest to enter. Tighnari pokes his head through. 

“Hey,” he hums lightly. There’s a titled smile on his face. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “Did you get all of that?”

“Uhm… I got most of it,” Collei responds. Tighnari raises an eyebrow, yet another unspoken question. She can spot Cyno peering over his shoulder. She pulls Cuilein-Anbar into her arms, absentmindedly playing with its ear. She’ll probably have to mend it soon, with how often she’s been doing that this week. She clears her throat. “Yes, please. I’d like to know.”

“I have a joke, first,” Cyno pushes past the other man into the room. Tighnari opens his mouth to protest, but stops himself. Cyno’s holding onto a small packet of papers, but she can’t read any of it from the angle she’s sitting at. “Alright. When does a joke become a dad joke?”

Collei’s expression twists up. “Uh…”

“When it becomes a parent,” Cyno finishes after it becomes evident neither of them will humor him. Collei mirrors Tighnari’s audible groan. “Just hold on a moment, I’m going to elaborate. You see, it’s yet another play on words. The answer says that the joke will become a dad joke only once it becomes a parent. Apparent, when something becomes observable, and a parent, what a father is.” 

He shuffles his weight between his feet before handing the packet to her. She squints at the heading. “We had an appointment to make preparations to legally adopt you. I would like for my jokes to be officially dad jokes, it were alright with you.”

Collei’s hands clam up as she finally works through the title in her grasp. Petition for Adoption. Neatly printed, clear as day. Towards the bottom of the first page, both of their signatures are neatly written out in delicate cursive script. 

“It’s not processed or anything like that, yet,” Tighnari says softly. “And, it would still take a generous amount of time once it’s filed for it to become legally binding, although Alhaitham may be able to expedite the process. But… it will only go through if you sign. Collei, as far as anybody is concerned, you have been our daughter since the moment we met. But… sometimes, the implication is not as strong as a promise such as this. If you want—”

“I want it,” Collei chokes out, setting the papers aside as quickly as possible so that she can practically toss herself at Tighnari, pinning his arms at his side, an embrace that Cyno wastes no time joining in on. She’s not sure when she starts crying, but she is sure that they are far from tears of panic or mourning. A sob slips past her throat. “I want you.”

Cyno’s mindful not to trap her, because he’s always thinking of those sorts of things when it comes to her. One of his arms slings over her shoulder, his other at his side, leaving plenty of room for her to pull away whenever she wants to. Truly, if she had been told when she was little that this was in her future, she’d have never believed it. But, here she is. Living. 

“We want you, too.”

She’s far from okay right now, but she’s beginning to believe that she will be.

They fall asleep like that, an amalgamated heap. In the morning, Collei knows that she will sign her name excitedly. She’ll join Cyno and Tighnari out to the market, and while she won’t be able to fix everything in a heartbeat, she’s aware that she doesn’t have to. She has two people by her side, helping to pick up the pieces. Collei just needs to try.

Collei’s going to try.