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He could hear it again. Hear them again. The voices, the groans, the beckonings. Each call was perceived not by his ears, but by his mind. Because one could always put hands to ears to block the noise, but the mind was a place that no man’s hands could touch. Childe had spent years fighting to push these voices away, to untangle himself from the inky tendrils that had taken hold of him since he’d fallen into the darkest part of the universe. As an adult, he’d grown used to the feeling of their insistent tug.
He could hear them, hear their garbled language that sounded like a cross between crashing cars and nails on chalkboards. And, though he could not speak their language with his tongue, he could understand every word they screeched. Even an idiot could understand what they were saying, what they wanted from him.
Return to us, Ajax. You belong to us. Stop running.
In the beginning, in the months after he’d finally managed to rip himself from the embrace of the darkness, the voices were unbearable. They were always speaking to him, though they were undoubtedly worse during the night time, when the sun abandoned him and the shadows took over the land. Childe had grown to love the morning, for in the morning the screams of the Abyss quieted down to mere whispers. In the morning, he could rest.
With a start, Childe was shoved back into consciousness. He sucked in air by the lungful as the boundary between nightmare and reality began to waver. His chest heaved as he began to take in his surroundings. That’s right, he was not stuck in the Abyss, he was in Zhongli’s bedroom. It was night time now, though not the endless twisting night that filled the Abyss and consumed time. No, this was the normal night that coerced normal men to sleep.
But Childe was not a normal man, and the darkness remained as restless as he was. It had a heartbeat of its own, one that was opposite of Childe’s own. It beat when Childe’s heart rested, throwing off his balance so completely that all he could do was clutch at his chest. Clutch at the part of his chest that throbbed in time with the Abyss.
There was a hole within him, though it was not something that could be seen. Ever since he’d crawled out from the darkness, he’d felt it deep within his chest. It was as if a piece of himself had been taken, though for the life of him, he couldn’t place what exactly that piece was. And he couldn’t shake the feeling that the Abyss had put something in its place, something of itself to forever be one with Childe.
He’d proven that it was possible to escape from the Abyss, but he realized that though the body could leave, there was always a part that would stay behind. Every day he prayed that it wasn’t an important piece.
Calloused fingers ran across the jagged skin of his chest. There had been times before when he’d been convinced that he could simply cut the Abyss out like any other tumor could be treated. He’d intentionally allowed himself to get struck with blades, to bleed in hopes that his past would pour out onto the grass in bright red droplets. It took him years to accept that it was never going to be that easy, and let to go of his hopes of true escape.
It was through this hole that Childe felt the pull of the Abyss, as if there were strings connecting him to the thing he’d lost. It would be so easy to just give in--to let his legs take him to wherever the Abyss had relocated itself to, to fall back down the rift in the ground and to never be seen again.
So easy to--
Steady arms wrapped around Childe’s waist from behind and pulled him in. Warmth. He felt like a boat without an anchor in the middle of a storm, and these arms--Zhongli’s arms--were the beacon from the shore guiding him to safety. Yes, this was safe, Childe reminded himself as he sunk into the embrace of his beloved. He sighed, feeling the tension that had been so present in his muscles slowly melt away. The spindly threads from the Abyss receded back into the realm of dreams, and Childe could finally breathe in. Zhongli could always bring him back no matter how bad the storm.
“Another bad dream?” he asked, his voice deep and gravelly with sleep. Under any other circumstances, Childe would have found pleasure with the sound.
“Mmm,” Childe hummed his agreement, burrowing deep into Zhongli’s arms to search for the warmest place, “Same as usual.”
Zhongli knew that he often dreamed of his time in the Abyss, but Childe had never told him just how bad these dreams were. Zhongli didn’t need to know just how broken the Abyss had left him, nor how lately, it felt like it was getting closer and closer to affecting him while he was awake.
He tucked the voice that told him that things weren’t getting better under his pillow
“I’ll stay awake with you until you fall back asleep.”
“Mmm,” he agreed, closing his eyes but knowing that he would only end up pretending to sleep in the end.
The Liyuen morning welcomed its ex-archon with open arms. Cool, refreshing air filtered in through the open windows, bringing Zhongli out from his deep sleep. Outside, the birds sang softly as a testament to another day of beautiful sunshine and perfect weather.
Yet, all was not well with the archon as he stirred from his sleep.
Something is wrong , Zhongli concluded after waking up to an empty bed. He reached his hand out to the space that had belonged to Childe for months, frowning when he realized that it was cold. That was the fourth night in a row that Childe has awoken from a nightmare.
He’d asked Childe what his dreams were about plenty of times before, but every time he’d only been met with vague half-answers. “The Abyss,” “Stuff that happened in the past,” “Nothing that matters now.” Of course, Zhongli was not so dense that he believe Childe’s half-hearted lies, but he was at a loss as to what to do. He could see his beloved in so much pain, yet he saw very little for him to do about it. How was it possible that a god who had the power to make mountains move and the ground tremble could feel so powerless?
But to Zhongli, those were mere excuses. Strong fingers gripped the sheets where his lover should be. “No more,” he swore to the air, “I must do something.” For if he didn’t, the uneasy feeling in his gut assured him that calamity would fall.
Zhongli slid out from beneath the sheets, barely registering the early morning air that kissed his bare skin. Childe had peeled off every piece of clothing the night before, and after rolling around in the bed with each other, he hadn’t had the energy or the care to put his clothes back on. Now, however, he would need his robe; lest he wish to show the citizens of Liyue every dip and curve he’d carefully given his mortal body.
Golden eyes searched the large bedroom, but came up with nothing remotely robe-like. This would have been a rather confusing phenomenon had the same not happened every time Childe slept over.
The god chuckled and instead pulled on a fresh set of pajamas from his dresser. As he did, the smell of freshly cooked eggs wafted into the bedroom from the direction of the kitchen. Hunger was still a relatively new sensation that he was getting used to now that he had a mortal-like body, and the smell of fresh breakfast did a number to his stomach. Zhongli guessed that he would find his robe wherever the pleasant smell was coming from.
Fully dressed, Zhongli slid into the kitchen where, as expected, Childe stood at the stove. He’d wrapped the robe around his thin frame, but had apparently not bothered to put on anything else considering the fact that Zhongli could see his bare shoulder from where the robe had begun to slip off. “I should get you a robe of your own, since you seem to fancy mine so much,” said the archon, his voice still steeped with sleepiness. He placed a kiss on top of Childe’s head of wild orange hair as he had done every morning since Childe had begun to call Zhongli’s bed his own.
Childe laughed and cast a glance over his shoulder at the sleepy archon, “It’s more fun when I take something that’s yours. Besides,” he paused to place a swift peck on Zhongli’s lips, “We both know I would be the one paying for a new one anyway.”
Zhongli didn’t have anything to say to that, so he resigned to allowing his hands to roam across Childe’s torso. He bent his head down to rest against the curve of Childe’s neck, yawning as his fingers did their best to map out every bump and scar of Childe’s body.
It only took a few moments of his hands roaming about Childe’s exposed skin for the latter to unceremoniously kick him out of the kitchen with the command to “wait after breakfast.” Zhongli obeyed without complaint, half because he did not wish to disturb the progress of such a delicious-smelling breakfast and half because the promise of what could come after breakfast was well-worth the wait. Though he didn’t leave before gratefully accepting a cup of hot tea that Childe had prepared ahead of time. It had been about a week since they’d begun living together, and yet the man had already begun to adapt and anticipate Zhongli’s routines.
By the time he’d found his usual spot at the dining table, Zhongli’s playful demeanor had cooled back into the one of concern he’d woken up with. He hadn’t missed how pale Childe’s face looked, or how deep the bags under his eyes had gotten. There was no room for doubt that the other man had been losing out on far too much sleep lately, and the effects of such sleep deprivation were already starting to take their toll. He had to do something about this and fast.
“Perhaps I have a book…” he murmured against his cup. Yes, he had a vast collection of books in his library. Surely there would be at least one that could offer some clue as to how to help Childe. There had to be.
Zhongli let out a deep sigh and closed the book in his hands. Yet another book that had failed to lead to any answers. He wouldn’t give up until he found the answers he was looking for, but the quest for answers was proving to be long and fruitless. It had been nearly two weeks since he’d begun his research, and so far the only semi-promising remedies had all been rather extreme levels of medication. Zhongli wouldn’t rule them out entirely, but he knew that there had to be something else out there that didn’t carry the risk of severe side effects with it.
“What’s the heavy sigh for, huh?” asked Xiangling as she came over to clear Zhongli’s plate. The delicious meal had at least helped to replenish the energy he’d lost pouring over today’s batch of texts.
“Oh, Ms. Xiangling,” Zhongli greeted, perking up immediately, “My apologies, it’s not much.”
“Circadian Disruptions and Remedies?” said the girl, tilting her head to read the cover of Zhongli’s book, “Huh?”
A gloved hand moved to smooth over the cover, “I’ve…been experiencing some issues with nightmares, and I was hoping to find some council within one of these books. Alas, every one I have consulted has led to a deadend.”
Xiangling tilted her head to the side, thought evident on her face, “I dunno about Circashium-whatever, but if you need help with sleep, you should get some lapis lazuli. I used to have nightmares when I was a kid. That stuff makes bad dreams run away faster than chickens on fried chicken day!” Xiangling exclaimed with a laugh.
Golden eyes widened as realization dawned on him. “Of course! I do not know why this thought has not occurred to me sooner."
His mind was now spinning at full speed as he'd finally been given the last piece to his perplexing puzzle. Lapis Lazuli had been know to carry properties which drove out nightmares and promoted restful sleep. It had been used for eons as a trusted home remedy, and Zhongli saw no reason why it wouldn't work now. As luck would have it, Zhongli often found himself in the possession of precious gems and stones that he picked up during his travels and trades. He just so happened to have quite the collection of lapis lazuli back at his home. The only question that remained would be how to best get Childe in contact with the gems. Though, he already had quite a few ideas for that.
"I owe you my greatest thanks, Miss Xiangling. I shall surely repay this great favor you have bestowed to me in the future.” Zhongli was already gathering his stacks of books in his arms and turning to leave.
“It’s really nothing, Mr. Zhongli!” she grinned, “But you can thank me by paying off your tab.” The girl’s face never budged from her happy expression, but the tone in her voice had a certain edge that made chills run down the archon’s spine.
“Ah-” he patted at his coat pockets, regretful to find nothing there, “How unfortunate. I seem to have left my Mora at home. Next time--”
“Next time you’ll pay us back. I know the drill by now. You’re lucky I like you so much, Mr. Zhongli,” she said, turning to attend to another customer, “Oh, and I hope your nightmares go away soon. Too many nightmares can start to get to a person pretty quickly.”
“Yes, that is what I fear as well.”
Madame Ping was where she always was on beautiful days: standing beneath a large tree, surrounded by her favorite glaze lilies. It was comforting to Zhongli that despite the rapid advancements Liyue underwent every day, there were still some small parts of it that remained unchanged throughout the years.
“My, there’s a face I don’t get the pleasure of seeing very often,” Madame Ping greeted with a soft smile, “Good day, Rex Lapis.”
Zhongli mirrored the woman’s smile, “Good day, Madame Ping. I see you are still the picture of youth, as you were the last time I saw you.”
She chuckled, taking a seat at the small table beside her. She gestured for Zhongli to do the same, which he promptly obeyed.“You flatter me, but I thank you. Tell me, what brings you here?”
Ah yes, the question Zhongli dreaded to face. “It pains me to ask this of you since I wished to let you live your life undisturbed, but I must ask you to complete a task for me.”
Madame Ping nodded, “Anything that Rex Lapis needs of me I shall carry out.”
A twinge of something that Zhongli had come to recognize as discomfort sounded deep in his stomach. “...Alas, I am no longer the archon known as Rex Lapis. I come to you instead as the mortal, Zhongli. I hope this will not affect your willingness to assist me.”
Madame Ping tsked, bringing a hand to rest on top of Zhongli’s, “You should know by now that regardless of what form or name you choose to donne, I will always be willing to serve. Now, how can I help, Zhongli?”
Sifting through his pockets, Zhongli produced a handful of bright blue gems of different shapes and sizes. The blue was so intense that had Zhongli not pulled the gems from the earth himself, he would’ve surely thought that they were artificial. Golden veins of color ripped throughout the blue in random directions. “I need you to weave a robe with these gems.”
“A most curious request. It has been ages since I’ve last created a garment with such an unusual material, but these old bones haven’t given up the ghost just yet. Consider it done.”
The twisted knot in his stomach began to loosen, “You have my thanks. As for the payment--”
Madame Ping held up a hand, stopping Zhongli’s words in their tracks, “I needn’t anything more than what you have already given me.”
Of course he should’ve seen this coming. Madame Ping was considering their entire relationship as reason enough to perform this deep for him. But that was not fair. This commission he was asking from her would surely take a great deal of time and energy, and he wished to repay her fairly.
“I appreciate your generosity, however I must insist. There must be balance in all things, including tasks such as this; I’m sure you understand. Now, as for payment, I’ve been told that your teapot has been without the attention of a duster in quite awhile. Perhaps it could use a thorough cleaning?”
Madame Ping laughed, a slight blush appearing on her wrinkled cheeks, “That traveller told you all of my secrets, did they? Ah, very well. I’m far too old to trifle about with cobwebs anyway.”
Zhongli flashed the woman a pleased smile, “Then consider it a deal. I’ll return again soon to collect the robe.”
He stood to leave, but stopped when Madame Ping spoke up once again.
“To think that the first time you appear in front of me in years would be to request something for another person. You’ve become quite selfless, Rex Lapis.”
“...” The temptation to ask Madame Ping how she’d come to such a conclusion was certainly there, but Zhongli wasn’t sure that he was ready to receive the answer. For if he did ask, he would surely hear about how his eyes had become golden pools of pure emotion, revealing all of his inner thoughts. Eyes not fit for a centuries-old god to possess.
So he bid his farewell to the faithful adeptus and started to make his way back home.
“This is some kinda kinky surprise, isn’t it?” Childe asked, his smile devilish. In his defense, the recent turn of events did seem rather sexual. How else was he supposed to read Zhongli covering his eyes with a piece of fabric and carrying him up to the bedroom?
“Patience,” said the archon, the command rumbling against Childe’s ear where he’d pressed his head to Zhongli’s chest. He shuddered at the feather-light touch of breath against his skin.
Childe wiggled his feet in anticipation. They usually got up to no good in the bedroom late at night before bed, but he was more than willing to stir up some trouble midday.
“Hold onto me,” Zhongli instructed, “I will place you down now.”
True to his word, Childe soon found himself being put gently onto his feet. He wobbled slightly in place before finding his balance against Zhongli.
Zhongli’s lips pressed a kiss into Childe’s neck, “I’ll be but a moment,” he promised before withdrawing. Childe shivered at the sudden absence of warmth, but stayed put as he’d been told.
Deft ears picked up the sound of a door opening and things being tossed around, but his hearing alone was not enough to inform Childe of what Zhongli was up to. The man was so serious at some times, but he could be an absolute wild card at other times. Childe wiggled his toes in excitement, his imagination beginning to kick in.
Soon enough, Zhongli was back by his side, comforting and warm. “You can take it off now,” he said.
Eager to reveal the surprise, Childe slipped the blindfold off with ease and looked about the room. His eyes fell onto a pool of gorgeous deep blue fabric that was bundled up in his lover’s hands. From the looks alone, he could tell that it would be as comfortable as could be from the way it shone against the setting sun. “Gods,” Childe breathed, “What is that? It’s gorgeous.”
“It’s for you,” Zhongli replied, unfolding the precious fabric, “Would you like to try it on?”
Childe could now see that this was a long robe with flowing fabric that looked like water and a belt to keep everything together. The material was a rich deep blue that shimmered like moonlight atop a sirene lake. And, upon closer inspection, the very threads of the robe sparkled with flecks of gold. Though, how anyone had managed to achieve such a feat was beyond Childe’s knowledge. It was beautiful, and from the looks alone, Childe surmised that it would fit him like it had been made for him.
“Please,” Childe grinned, turning to allow Zhongli to help him shrug on the garment. Childe fussed at the collar of the robe until it lay flat just how he liked it. Meanwhile, Zhongli’s strong arms wrapped around Childe’s waist and tugged the matching belt closed with a loose knot. Just as Zhongli was about to withdraw, Childe caught Zhongli’s hands in his and kept them right where they were.
Neither of them could say how long they stayed like that: Zhongli around Childe’s arms and Childe holding onto Zhongli tight. It was the perfect moment between the two of them, for they were able to simply exist with one another without anything--especially not the Abyss--getting in the way.
Childe yawned, the combination of the warmth he felt now coupled with multiple nights of bad sleep had effectively drained him of everything he had.
“Shall we rest?” Zhongli suggested, already scooping Childe into his arms as he did every night before bed.
“Mmm,” Childe hummed in agreement, closing his eyes. The threat of the Abyss still bit at the edges of his mind, but somehow, wrapped up in everything that was Zhongli, Childe had the feeling that everything would be okay.
As he was carried to bed, Childe relished in the feeling of the soft silk of his new robe rubbing on his skin. It was a soft and comforting feeling, one that he hoped would forever remind him of the man who had given it to him.
Childe wasted no time in scurrying underneath the blankets and staking his claim to his side of the bed. Zhongli was, afterall, a notorious blanket hog, and Childe knew he would need to start the night ahead if he hoped to wake up the next morning with more than a corner of the blanket on his body.
Soon enough, Zhongli was settling in beside him, wrapping him up in his arms as he did every night. It was a silent yet firm assurance that everything would be alright. "Sleep well, my love."
And that night, for the first night in weeks, the Abyss with all its terror and darkness did not call out to Childe. Not once did Childe stir.
For everything was alright.