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It was strange, trying to reconcile Tartaglia, Eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui, with the version of Childe that Aether had seen today.
One was the man who’d flown into an explosive rage at the Golden House and unleashed an ancient devastation on Liyue Harbor; the other protected his little brother's innocence like a devoted fairytale knight, humiliating and nearly killing himself in the process before thanking Aether sincerely for his help along the way.
It was—jarring, to say the least. The day's events had knocked Aether's anger and sense of betrayal sideways. In a way, he felt like he'd discovered a truer side of the man by helping him lie to his brother, more honest than any of the easy smiles Childe offered throughout their scattered interactions in the Harbor.
After finishing up in Dottore’s abandoned lab, Aether could’ve just left.
That was the plan—him and Paimon safely guiding Teucer back to Liyue Harbor, while Childe presumably licked his wounds and gathered the energy to limp after them. Aether didn’t like the idea of leaving Childe behind, but after the lengths he’d gone to keep the wool tugged gently over his little brother’s eyes, maintaining the ruse for this final stretch was the only acceptable option.
Teucer darted toward the entrance, babbling excitedly at the small Ruin Guard replica in his hands. He mentioned showing it to that same Sister Tonia the brothers had brought up before and Aether smiled, his heart giving a warm squeeze.
That… is what family is all about, isn’t it?
There was a faint, strained cough from behind them. Aether paused mid-step.
Lumine had always told him he didn't know when to leave well enough alone. They'd had to remind each other, through the long years together skipping like stones across worlds, that you couldn't save everyone, couldn’t fix every fractured world. Thinking of her voice brought the usual ache in Aether's chest, like touching an increasingly familiar bruise. Childe's speech had coaxed the memories to the surface and left them raw.
It wasn’t fair, really, that one of the only people in this world who seemed to understand Aether at a glance had tried to wipe out an entire city just a couple of weeks ago.
“Hey, Paimon?”
Paimon spun toward him in the air, perky as a seelie. “What’s up?”
“Do you think…” The image of Childe, hunched and breathless with pain, flickered through Aether’s mind. It was a long way back to Liyue Harbor by foot. “Do you think you can take Teucer the rest of the way back by yourself?”
“Whaaat?”
Aether smiled sheepishly at Paimon’s wide eyes. “We cleared out a half-dozen Ruin Guards outside earlier. And if it comes to it, there were a few Fatui down by the water you could ask to help. Just tell them who Teucer is.”
As much as Aether loathed the suggestion, he smiled at Paimon’s indignant huff. “Hmph! As if Paimon needs any stinkin’ Fatui’s help.” Tiny hands on her waist, Paimon flew closer to his face, inspecting. “Why the sudden change of plan?”
Teucer waved at them from the chamber’s end, yelling “Let’s go already!” He’d clearly not learned his lesson about running off. Even with the distance and clank of factory ambience, Aether kept his voice to a murmur. “I just… I don’t think Childe should try to make it back alone.”
Understanding filled Paimon’s dark eyes and she hummed thoughtfully. “It would be nice to make sure the tough guy made it back safe and sound. You can’t kick his butt again if he passes out and drowns in the lake on the walk back.”
Teucer yelled again and Paimon did a little twirl before floating his way, calling over her shoulder, “Paimon deserves a million sticky honey roasts for this!”
“You’re the best!” Aether called back, meaning it wholeheartedly.
He could hear Paimon’s high voice explaining that Aether was going back to gather some important paperwork for Teucer’s big brother and that the two of them were going to continue ahead to the Northland Bank. Aether didn’t hear Teucer’s answer before he stepped back amongst the still-sparking Ruin Guards. The hum of machinery was louder here at the heart of the factory, and a chill pricked Aether’s skin despite the heat pulsing from the veins of metal piping. Even with their single eyes dimmed, he still felt as though the Ruin Guards were watching him.
He made his way back to the small alcove they’d found Childe tucked in before. Aether wasn’t sure what he expected—a man keeled over, unconscious from reopened wounds, maybe—but Childe was standing with a hand planted firmly on the wall to keep himself upright. He didn’t seem to notice Aether at first; his eyes were slivers of lazurite, blank and unfocused. When Aether stepped closer, he could see the arm supporting Childe’s weight was trembling with the strain, just slightly.
He probably should’ve felt smug or vindicated. Instead, Aether just experienced another tired rush of sympathy. He cleared his throat. “Need a hand?”
Whatever trance Childe was in broke and he took in Aether’s presence with a bewildered blink. “What are you doing back here?” Then, with a sharper edge, “Is Teucer alright?”
“He’s fine,” Aether assured, leaving unlike you tucked behind his lips where the obvious, uncharitable words belonged. “Paimon’s taking him back.”
Childe blinked again, tipping his head like one of Liyue’s harbor dogs; Aether refused to be charmed by the gesture. “Then… you’re here to—”
“Help you, yeah. You’re not walking back to Liyue Harbor alone. Not with those injuries.”
Childe laughed quietly, immediately pressing a hand to his ribs with a wince. “You do still remember that I’m a Harbinger of the Fatui, yes? A few wounds like this won’t stop me for long.”
“Of course,” Aether said dryly. He sensed if he truly did leave, Childe would find some way to drag himself bruised and bleeding across the country and up the steps to the Northland Bank; that wasn’t the point. “But it’ll be easier to get back with help, right?”
There was a long pause at that, with only the thrum of machinery around them and Childe’s quiet, labored breaths filling the air. Aether wondered if Childe’s pride would refuse the offer, or if he’d insist Aether follow the original plan and hurry after the other two. He braced himself for another argument disguised as banter.
Instead, Childe nodded. “Alright.”
Aether’s shoulders relaxed just the slightest with relief; he hadn’t realized he’d been tensing them. He stepped closer, fitting himself carefully under Childe’s arm. His support was a little lopsided with the height difference, but he could feel Childe’s weight pressing on him regardless. He gave a grateful sigh into Aether’s shoulder before semi-straightening, hair tickling Aether’s neck and making him shiver.
“Alright, comrade,” Childe said, smiling even as his chest heaved, “I’m in your hands.”
*
It’d be easier, Aether knew, to keep hating Childe. After the Golden House and Osial and generally being manipulated since the moment they’d met, Aether definitely had enough fuel for a lifetime grudge. But Childe, mercurial as he was, all sunshine smiles and bloodthirsty grins, cruel words and soft promises, kept making it… difficult.
Aether firmly told himself he could untangle the mess in his head later and led them out into the evening. They emerged from Dottore’s workshop to find Paimon and Teucer long gone, the sun disappearing like a lick of flame behind the mountains and heavy rainclouds churning closer from the south. With the light went the day’s burning heat.
Aether had gotten too used to teleporting long distances, flitting across Teyvat in seconds instead of hours. The slow trudge past the hollowed out Dunyu Ruins felt like the longest trek he could remember since waking up in Teyvat—each step he was aware of Childe at his side, a lean line of body heat in the cool evening air.
“So,” Aether said, “you have other siblings? Beyond Teucer.”
“Mm, yes.” Childe’s mouth curved in a fond smile. “There are four of us altogether—Teucer, Anthon, Tonia, and myself. Tonia’s four years younger than me and looking after everyone back home.”
“Not your parents?”
Aether nearly bit his tongue at the insensitive question—he was exhausted, sure, but that was no excuse—but Childe only shook his head. “Our father’s illness has been getting worse the past few years, and our mother often works the docks in his stead. I’ve told her time and again that she doesn’t need to, but…” His lips pulled in a wry, dark smile. “There’s only so much blood mora she’ll accept from her eldest, I suppose.”
Aether thought of Childe cheerily pressing bags of mora into his and Paimon’s hands. He hadn’t considered the implications beyond putting a dent in Childe’s exorbitant harbinger salary. “So all of them know? That you…”
“That I serve the Tsaritsa?” Childe huffed a laugh and Aether winced at the rasp of it. “Of course. I’m glad to act as her weapon—I told you, the only reason I haven’t told Teucer the truth is—”
“I know,” Aether said softly. He kept his gaze trained forward. Maybe starting up a conversation had been a bad call—he could feel Childe straining as he spoke, each word costing energy he could be conserving for the journey. “To let him be a kid as long as you can.”
“I love the Motherland dearly,” Childe said, “but she is a place of strength, not kindness. She sharpened me like a blade and helped make me who I am today. But Teucer… he hasn’t had to experience that darkness yet.”
Aether glanced over. Childe’s eyes were a calm, depthless blue; this close to nightfall, with fireflies sparking to life in the tall grasses, they were incredibly dark.
“I want him to keep his wonder for just a little longer," Childe murmured. "I’m grateful, that you understand.”
Aether nodded, mouth suddenly dry.
It really would be easier if he could keep hating Childe.
A high, mechanical whine raised the hairs on Aether’s neck. He froze at the same moment Childe stiffened at his side. Together, they turned to see the bulky form of a Ruin Hunter float over a crumbling stone tower behind them. Its single glowing eye contracted, burning pupil focusing on them in the fading light.
“Ah well,” Childe said ruefully. “Too much to ask for things to end on an easy note, right?”
He made as if to stand on his own and Aether barely caught him before he collapsed to the grass. One of the Ruin Hunter’s hands spun into a massive drill and Aether hauled Childe behind a pillar just as the whole thing swept by like a wrecking ball. The Hunter came to a hovering stop, turning that lantern eye on the pair again.
Aether stood, summoning his sword with a flick of his wrist. Childe’s bow flashed into his hands.
Aether shot him a stern look. “No Foul Legacy Transformation. We’re getting you back to your brother in one piece, okay?”
Childe grinned shakily, leaning his weight against the stone. “You got it, blondie.”
“If you see an opening to hit the eye, go for it. Otherwise—leave it to me.”
Without waiting for an answer, Aether darted out. The Ruin Hunter’s eye tracked him across the stone and he quickly slipped into a defensive crouch.
There was always something deeply unsettling about the eyes of Ruin Guards and Hunters—a sort of empty, dissecting appraisal that regarded Aether as something small to bleed and break with indifferent efficiency. Aether held back a shudder, poised on the balls of his feet.
The Ruin Hunter charged again without warning. Aether sidestepped the first slash of its arm, dodged the second, and rolled to avoid the vicious spin of its body, coming up with a swing of his own. He just missed one of the wrist joints, sword glancing off the arm’s plating with a harsh clang, barely scratching the metal.
Fine then.
He dove into another roll as the Ruin Hunter swung again, dismissing his sword and gathering anemo in his palms, cool wind surging around him sharp and pure before releasing in a fury of gusting blades. The Ruin Hunter groaned, resisting, and Aether braced on his back foot, launching himself into a spin and hurling a brilliant green tornado at its body. “With the wind!”
The Ruin Hunter flew back, smashing into a rock face and taking out the rest of a crumbling stone wall in its wake. Its single eye flickered, pulsing like a heartbeat, the markings on its body glowing blood-bright in the closing night. Slowly, it rose into the air, debris sliding to the earth.
Aether touched down like a dancer and swept back into another crouch. His pulse drummed in his ears, his jaw, his fingers, every inch of him alight. In a fight, all his uncertainties scattered like dandelion seeds, until he was only the swing of his sword and the sweet pull and release of elemental energy. The frantic pound of his heart overtook the ache in his chest.
Besides—even after fighting an entire production line of Ruin Guards, Aether welcomed the distraction from that strange, breathless anticipation he’d kept experiencing today whenever he caught Childe staring at him a beat too long.
The Ruin Hunter gave a garbled, mechanical bellow, reminding Aether that yes he was in a fight, and yes he would lose more than the tip of his braid if he didn’t pay attention to those swinging, bladed arms.
On cue the Ruin Hunter swept in again with a flurry of blows; Aether danced out of the way, narrowly avoiding strike after strike, answering with windblades when he could. His scarf fluttered around him like ribbons of moonlight, his braid swinging, all of him spinning, dodging, twisting away from a slicing whirlwind of ancient metal.
All you do is run!
Aether bared his teeth, shaking the memory away, and seized an opening to bring his sword down on a metal wrist joint. Sparks sprayed his gloves, but the hit wasn’t deep enough to sever—he couldn’t pull his blade free before the Ruin Hunter flung him across the stone. Aether hit the ground and bounced, air punched from his lungs, rolling with the momentum until he was back in a crouch.
“Aether!”
He sprung to his feet, ribs singing with pain. I’m not running.
The Ruin Hunter shot upward. Its eye shone a brilliant gold, its arms shifting into cannons, and Aether raced forward. “Childe, now!”
A crystal blue arrow sang through the air. It struck the Ruin Hunter’s eye and its body lurched violently, dropping a dozen feet through the air, still dangling like a bauble just above the earth. Aether didn’t pause, couldn’t afford the breath for words—he launched himself above the Hunter with a concentrated burst of anemo and plunged down, sword ready; right as his blade pierced the Hunter’s eye he released a vicious pulse of geo.
Feet braced on groaning metal, Aether had a moment to appreciate the jagged gold crystals spiking from the Ruin Hunter’s body before the whole thing shuddered and dropped that final foot, invisible strings cut. Ripped apart from the inside out.
Aether hit the ground and rolled, bracing on a knee before standing on legs still trembling with adrenaline. He hadn’t realized he’d been panting, breaths high in his throat. It’d been a long day of getting knocked around by Ruin Guards—might as well cap the night getting smacked to the ground by a Ruin Hunter.
He jogged back to Childe, who offered a lazy wave from his spot against the pillar, eyes brightly intense. His bow disappeared from his hand in a scattering of gold. “We really do make quite the pair, huh?”
“… Thanks for the help.”
“Not that you really needed it.” Childe whistled at the Ruin Hunter’s body, struck through with a dozen, brilliant gold crystals, like bolts of solidified lightning. “Using geo and anemo together again, hm?”
Aether examined the creep of lichen over the ancient stone of the ruins, suddenly wishing the Hunter had put up more of a fight. “You said you’d ‘curb your curiosity’.”
“Oh, trust me,” Childe said easily, “I am. That doesn’t mean I’ll stop wondering about your secrets altogether.”
Aether sighed, pressing a palm to his forehead. He started at the touch of cool gloves on his bare flank, nearly dropping his sword. “What are you—”
“It got one good hit in,” Childe hummed, thoughtful. His fingers swept gently over Aether’s side, from skin up to cloth and down again. “How’re your ribs?”
Aether tried to remember what a rib was. “They’re—um. They’re fine.”
Childe looked up from his inspection to meet Aether’s wide stare. His lips twitched.
Aether narrowed his eyes, stepping back. He kept his voice level past the unsteady trip of his heart. “If you’re feeling well enough to start being a jerk again, you could always walk back to Liyue Harbor on your own.”
Childe slung an arm around Aether’s shoulders, companionable and clearly an excuse for the support. “Come now, where’s that knightly nobility disappeared to? I’m injured and alone in the nighttime wilderness of a foreign land!”
Aether sighed and dismissed his sword so he could adjust Childe’s arm. “You’re in a better mood, at least.”
“What can I say?” Childe’s eyes lidded, smile turning almost sly. His voice dropped to a murmur in Aether’s ear. “You put on a good show.”
Aether’s face burned. He raised a hand to shove against Childe’s face, but he’d already leaned out of range, wheezing a laugh through the rattle in his chest. “Easy, blondie.”
“I could still push you off a cliff, you know.”
“Oh? After all that?” Childe tipped his head toward the fallen silhouette of the Ruin Hunter. “Would be a shame after you defended me so valiantly.”
Aether opened his mouth. Shut it again. Not trusting himself to respond, he scanned the darkening landscape, trying to re-find the path toward the Lisha Waypoint while his eyes adjusted. He hadn’t noticed the clouds gathering overhead, and the sky chose that moment to open, rain pouring down in a sudden, chilly deluge.
Really? Aether thought, frowning up at the clouds. Traveling through the night with an injured man while being pelted by rain was one strike too many. Aether glanced around, trying to determine what would offer them the most shelter to wait out the weather. Regular Liyue storms, he’d found, were notoriously short-lived.
He led them under an outcropping of stone, warily checking with elemental sight that the Ruin Guard propped on the steps wouldn’t wake when they approached. Aether helped Childe slump down to the grass, feeling a pang at the way he exhaled, clearly relieved to be sitting again.
“You should keep going,” Childe said quietly, voice distant as he watched the rain. “The storm might catch up to the other two.”
Always thinking about his brother. Aether shook his head. “They’ll probably be keeping pace just ahead of it. Teucer seemed ready to sprint the whole way back, and Paimon’ll stick to him like a wolfhook. Besides, waiting out the rain means I can take a look at your wounds. I should’ve done that back in the workshop.”
“Huh. I… didn’t think you were a healer.”
“I’m not,” Aether said, wishing fervently he could answer otherwise. It would’ve made things a whole lot easier traveling across worlds far more hostile than Teyvat. The fight in the Golden House probably would’ve gone smoother as well if he’d been able to magically soothe the burns from Childe’s electro spear. Aether carefully retreated from that line of thinking. “But I’ve patched up my sister enough through the years, and I’ve got a few things in my pack that might help.”
“Your sister… Lumine?”
Aether’s head whipped up, pack hitting the ground with a thump. “How did you—”
“I saw the missing person posters around the Harbor,” Childe said. “The Qixing work fast. We already had one of their agents poking around, asking the recruits questions about any blond girls in strange clothes they might’ve seen in the past few months.”
“Oh—right.” Embarrassed, Aether started digging in his bag again. “Ningguang told me she’d have people ‘pursue other avenues’ beyond just helping me put those up.”
“The Tianquan is a powerful ally to have. You'll definitely find her, especially with the Qixing's aid.”
Warmth bloomed in Aether’s chest, and he quickly tamped it down. “You’re deflecting.” Then, in a smaller voice, "But... thanks. Really."
He waited in a crouch while Childe regarded him with another heavy, unreadable stare.
There’d been moments strewn throughout the day, between chasing Teucer across the Harbor and watching Childe act the fool for a brother he loved dearly, watching him terrify Treasure Hoarders and easily teach Fatui recruits their place, where their eyes had met and Aether couldn’t tell if the itch in his fingers was from wanting to summon his sword or wanting something else. Something he couldn’t let himself think about—especially now, the two of them alone and Childe still staring.
After a long pause where the rain drummed against the stone overhead, Childe murmured, “… alright. Have at it.”
He unbuttoned his Fatui jacket, although it clearly pained him to move his arms that much. The fabric parted from skin with a slick, tearing sound, and Aether winced in sympathy.
Then he saw the burns.
Aether didn’t let himself gasp at the dark, violet mottling of flesh, or the lacing of old scars crisscrossed by newer cuts. But some of his reaction must’ve slipped into his expression, because Childe laughed gamely. “Pretty bad, huh?”
Aether inspected the cuts and how they paled in comparison to the electro burns. It was a miracle the discoloration ended before the stretch of stomach Childe kept on display with his outfit. “It’s… like they were made from the inside.”
“Hmm. That’s—sort of right, in a way.”
Aether retrieved a bottle of frosting essential oil from his pack, as well as the packet of ground up Qingxin poultice he’d picked up at Bubu Pharmacy the other day. One for the bleeding, the other to hopefully soothe the burns. “Is the blowback from the transformation because of your Delusion?”
Childe settled back against the stone with a shivery sigh. “The Foul Legacy Transformation doesn’t actually come from my Delusion—it was taught to me by my master a number of years ago.”
“Your master?” Aether paused in his inspection of the cuts, hands hovering above overly warm skin. “Not the Cryo Archon?”
“I didn’t learn to fight from the Tsaritsa.” Childe’s eyes glimmered playfully. “Trying to manipulate answers from a wounded man… I didn’t think you had it in you, blondie.”
Aether jolted, fumbling the bundle of Qingxin before shooting Childe a flustered look. “I’m not—”
“I know.” Childe leaned back, his eyes fluttering shut. “You’re far too kind for that. Too… straightforward.”
Aether looked back to his scraped knuckles. "Means I'm easier to fool, right?"
"Hey, if anyone ended up the fool after all this, it was definitely me."
A smile twitched across Aether's lips. "... to be fair, Zhongli did play us both," he said diplomatically.
"And Signora," Childe continued, pressing a palm to his forehead. "A truly aggravating schemer, that woman. At the very least, if anyone's going to see me like this... I'm glad it's you."
Aether paused. It was only for a short, stuttering moment, before he turned back to the task at hand, holding a cupped palm out into the rain to gather water for the Qingxin poultice. Applying the mashed pulp the way Herbalist Gui had described was easy enough, but Aether only had enough for the worst lacerations. It’d have to be sufficient until whatever healer the Fatui had on-hand could clean and magically seal the wounds.
Next, Aether uncorked the frosting potion and eyed the electro burns. “This’ll hopefully ease some of the pain. Sorry if the cold stings.”
“Trust me,” Childe said, “I’ve had worse.”
The Qingxin seemed to be doing its work, slowing the bleeding from the two largest cuts; Aether made a mental note to thank Herbalist Gui when they got back to the Harbor. He poured shimmering, icy liquid onto the silk handkerchief Zhongli had picked out for him at a merchant stall by the docks during one of their evening strolls. Once the cloth was soaked, Aether leaned carefully over Childe’s torso to press it to the worst of the burns.
Before he could start, Childe grabbed his wrist. Goosebumps shot up Aether’s arm from the contact. “… Childe?”
“It might be easier,” Childe said, slowly, “if you…”
He tugged at Aether’s wrist, gentle. His other hand found Aether’s hip, applying the faintest pressure, a suggestion without knocking Aether off-balance.
It took Aether a moment to process what the touches were meant to convey. The invitation rolled through him honey slow, bringing a flush to his cheeks. That same breathless anticipation rose in his throat. Beside them the rain poured on, a heavy curtain past their bubble of shelter.
This was the man who’d tried to sink Liyue Harbor into the sea, who’d played at friendship and then tried his best to tear Aether apart. Beyond that—Childe was grievously injured, hazy and vulnerable.
Don’t be an idiot, Aether, he told himself desperately.
“Alright,” he whispered, and tossed a leg over Childe’s hip so he was straddling his lap.
This close, he could see the faint spangle of lighter blue in Childe’s dark eyes. His one hand stayed at Aether’s hip, steadying, and Aether said nothing. The angle was only slightly better for accessing the burns wrapped around Childe’s ribs, purple veins branching across pale skin.
Aether brought up the handkerchief again and gently pressed it to the darkest patch. Childe hissed between his teeth, breaking their stare off to close his eyes against the sharp chill. His hands twitched against Aether, but their touch remained light, not restraining. Aether kept the cloth in place, counting down the seconds silently. He fixed his gaze on the fine muscles of Childe’s neck, skin prickling too much to make eye contact again. Once finished with the spot, Aether poured more liquid onto the cloth and moved on, noting how Childe slowly seemed to relax as the cold eased the worst of the pain.
When the application was over a blink and eternity later, Aether let his hands fall awkwardly to his thighs. He should move. Go put the cloth and empty vial in his bag. Get up.
Childe inhaled shakily. His gaze swept from the empty potion vial to something out in the rain—maybe the fallen Ruin Hunter?—before refocusing on Aether. When he spoke, it was low and quiet, almost a secret. “Thank you, Aether.”
Aether watched Childe’s mouth shape his name. “This... doesn’t change anything.”
“I know,” Childe hummed, and kissed him.
If Aether’d had the presence of mind to reflect, he’d have thought about how much softer Childe’s mouth was than he expected. Aether kissed back, and Childe’s hands immediately found his waist, like he’d been waiting for that wordless permission; one gloved hand smoothed hot and intent up Aether’s back, fingers drifting against the curve of Aether’s spine and dragging out a shiver. The other brushed Aether’s bruised ribs and he gasped; Childe seized the opening, tongue lapping past the seam of Aether's lips.
A whisper of reason reminded Aether urgently of where he was—open, vulnerable, someone could see—and who he was with—enemy, liar, Fatui. The rest of him sank into the touches like a warm bath, body humming with how all the shared looks, all the energy building and cresting throughout the day finally had an outlet.
Aether threaded his fingers through the soft hair at Childe’s nape and tugged. Childe groaned, arms tightening around him, and Aether gave a half-roll of his hips, reflexive, mindlessly seeking. He shuddered at the answering graze of Childe's teeth along his bottom lip. The hand on his side dropped, Childe cupping Aether's hip in encouragement.
The fresh snowfall scent of the frosting potion nipped Aether’s nose, softened by the sweet smell of Qingxin.
It was like barely catching himself with his wind glider after an especially dangerous leap. That same fluttering sensation low in his belly. Aether pulled back with a slick noise, pulse rabbiting, the world coming back between blinks. For a beat he stared, transfixed, at the string of saliva between his and Childe’s mouths. When he swatted it away and glanced up, Childe was watching him.
The rain had stopped. Aether hadn’t even noticed.
When he swallowed and stumbled to his feet, Childe didn’t try to stop him.
Aether waited until he'd regained his breath, then rasped, “You still need to see a healer. An actual one.” He flushed darker at how his voice came out, roughened by the want still singing through him.
By the time Childe had finished rebuttoning his jacket over Aether’s amateur doctoring, still uncharacteristically quiet, Aether felt more centered in his own skin. He offered Childe a hand, but he stood unaided and offered Aether a false, bright smile. When he spoke, it was closer to his usual easy charm, less like he was on the brink of shaking apart at the bloodied seams. The quiet sincerity was gone. “Best we try to make it back before sunrise. I’d hate to leave Ekaterina thinking anything went wrong with some run-of-the-mill debt collection.”
Aether nodded. Silence hanging heavier than the clouds above, they headed out into the night.
*
After only a scant few minutes back on the road, Childe passed out.
Of course.
Bearing the full, unconscious weight of the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger across rain-slick mud to the Lisha Waypoint wasn’t how Aether thought this day would end. He hadn’t wanted to leg the entire journey to Liyue Harbor, but Childe was Fatui; it was one thing for Aether to suddenly appear alone in bustling Mondstadt or Liyue Harbor, startling any passerby. He’d made the mistake of teleporting next to Liyue's community alchemy station with Paimon during midday a while back, and a woman had shrieked before grabbing his hands and excitedly asking him if he was an adeptus. After that debacle, Aether figured teleporting just outside the city limits was a better call. That wasn't an option here--not with Childe injured and out cold.
But it was still another thing entirely to risk Childe, Harbinger of the Fatui, finding out the exact capabilities of the waypoints, their power and possible uses.
Aether shook his head. Paimon had told him no one had ever been able to activate the waypoints like he had, whether they held a Vision or not. And besides…
Aether glanced at Childe. The spiked red tip of his harbinger mask was just visible behind a head of fluffy orange hair. His eyes were peacefully closed, as if sleeping. He hadn’t made a sound when he’d passed out while walking, just suddenly become deadweight against Aether’s side.
It’s because he’s unconscious and injured, Aether told himself, stopping before the waypoint.
Lumine would’ve called him on the lie in a heartbeat. She’d always told him he trusted too easily, bared his heart too freely. That he’d be hurt for it someday and she never wanted that for him.
Would Lumine trust the man in Aether’s arms? Would she feel the same need Aether did, to help someone who’d hurt her, who’d done something terrible, but who protected dreams, who loved his family as fiercely as he fought?
He wanted to ask her someday.
Though… he’d leave out the events from today. Gods Aether had a slime for a brain. He raised a hand to the waypoint and addressed Childe’s unconscious body, voice soft around the edges. “Don’t make me regret this, okay?”
And he teleported them to Liyue Harbor.