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Kaeya had always known it’d turn out this way. Somehow, he would always have ended up defeated at the hands of his own brethren, his own ancestors, turned into monsters by the wrath of Celestia. He’d never blamed them. He never could.
It was in the moment the axe had met his chest that he realized he wouldn’t get a chance to say goodbye. He flew backwards, traveling at such a speed and force that when he landed and began skidding on the ground his clothes had ripped at the elbows. Dust filled his lungs as he choked in an excruciating breath, then began coughing violently. Crimson seeped through his tattered outfit and bled onto the dirt. The mitachurl grunted, satisfied it’d flung the human boy far enough for protection, then began its trek back towards its companions.
After what felt like hours, the setting sun began to blind him, worsening his already furious headache. He turned from the light, then, discovering he could still move, slowly dragged himself up and began hauling himself back to Mondstadt. Blood fell heavily onto the dirt path as he walked, wheezing, hardly daring to breathe. The sun had already set. It was night out now. He couldn’t tell whether his vision was fading or if it was just as dark as it usually was.
Once he’d arrived in Mondstadt, he made an attempt to get to the cathedral, but ultimately failed as he collapsed onto the stone ground near one of the city walls. He’d left a blood trail, at least. Maybe someone would be curious enough to find him.
And with the thought of dying alone, he closed his eyes, and his rasping abated.
;
The boy was on his nightly stroll through Mondstadt as he’d always done, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious, stopping criminals in the dead of night before they could get away with a bag of goods (or sometimes even wine, if they were stupid enough to even try stealing from him.) But something was different on this particular night. He couldn’t place what it was, but something made his skin crawl.
Mere minutes later he found a trail of dark crimson leading into a back alleyway. Curiously, he poked his head around the corner. Oh, what a sight to behold.
His estranged brother laid motionless on the ground, surrounded in a pool of his own blood. His clothes were bloody and tattered. His eyes were closed. An enormous gash made its way from his shoulder to his side.
Diluc felt his heart stop for a moment before he shifted his weight, quickly running to the other man to check for vitals and ready to try anything to keep him alive. His breath hitched in his throat when he realized Kaeya’s breathing was just a moment away from ceasing altogether. He brought his hand up to trace along the wound, focusing his pyro vision into a singular point in his finger to cauterize the seeping blood. He worked silently and meticulously, focused on only one thing: bringing him back alive.
Once the wound had stopped bleeding, he scooped Kaeya into his arms, then began carefully but desperately working his way to the cathedral. It was almost midnight. He could only hope Barbara was still there.
He slammed into the looming doors, pushing them open with every ounce of strength that wasn’t focused on carrying a full grown man, then looked around, panting. After a few moments a small voice echoed around the church. “Hello?”
“Barbara,” Diluc replied. “I need immediate help. It’s Kaeya!” He started forward and laid him on the floor, crouching beside him and looking around.
After a few moments the priestess emerged from the stairwell, her eyes round. “Oh, dear,” she murmured, quickly dropping the case of supplies and searching through them. Faster than anything Diluc could ever do, she wrapped bandages around the gaping wound, placed a hand over his chest, murmured something inaudible, and waited.
They waited. And waited. And waited.
Finally, Kaeya’s shallow breaths grew stronger, and he began coughing. Blearily he opened his eye, looking around. Diluc could tell he was unfocused- his gaze seemed to lock onto nothing, then closed again. He fell into a quiet sleep.
“How did this happen?” the priestess asked, beginning to place smaller bandages on the less serious wounds. She spoke calmly, softly, as if speaking to an injured child. Diluc only shook his head.
“I found him like that,” he murmured. “In an alleyway. I’d be willing to bet he got too reckless out on the plains.” He, too, spoke quietly and slowly, but not for delicacy- he spoke quietly in fear that the healer would catch onto the emotion that dripped heavily from his voice, in fear that she’d hear the desperation that made his words quiver.
Barbara only nodded.
As she finished the job, she stood, packing her items back into the casing. “I’ll take him to the Grand Goth Hotel,” she announced. “I’ll be able to check on him frequently there. If he-”
The fiery boy intercepted. “Actually- I’d like to take him back with me,” he asked. “I want to keep an eye on him. At all times.”
Barbara only stared at him questioningly, but revealed nothing in her words. Instead she nodded. “Very well, then. I will come visit him in two days’ time.” And with that, she disappeared back into the basement of the church.
Diluc crouched next to his brother there for a few moments more, then carefully scooped him up and began the walk back to his home.
;
Approximately 27 hours later, Kaeya opened his eye once more, rousing from his pained sleep. Diluc had sat next to him the entire time, refusing to go anywhere else until he knew his brother was okay. He’d never admit it, but the few flashes of panic he’d felt when Kaeya’s rasping breaths slowed and grew weaker had nearly sent him sprinting back to the cathedral.
Kaeya’s gaze fell upon his brother, taking a few moments to focus on his flaming stare. After maybe thirty seconds or so of looking around the room, trying to place himself, his quiet, strained voice echoed around the rather empty infirmary. “Hello?”
Diluc’s jaw had set. “You’re alive.” He didn’t particularly want to show the pure joy and relief he felt as his estranged brother spoke to him. He kept his voice leveled.
“That I am,” he replied slowly, as if he were testing his voice. He erupted into a bout of coughing, then sighed, rasping. “Why?”
Diluc blinked. “Hm?”
“Why’d you help me?”
Diluc’s shoulders squared as he stiffened, searching for an answer. Finally he settled on the most impersonal response. “I don’t want anyone dying in my city,” he mumbled.
Kaeya seemed unsatisfied with his answer, but didn’t press further, lying back on his back.
A few minutes passed, a knock came at the door, and a moment after a head peered into the room, followed by a tray of stew and small glass of water. Diluc nodded and the servant placed the tray next to Kaeya on the bed, then wordlessly left the room once more. Kaeya rolled his head to the side to stare at the meal, but made no move to consume it.
Diluc peered for a few moments before clearing his throat. “What?” he muttered. “Don’t tell me you need me to feed you.”
Kaeya shook his head, then slowly, with a drawn-out groan, sat up. Diluc could have sworn he could hear his bones creaking. He took the spoon in his hand and shakily raised it to his lips. Diluc watched as he slurped it down, life returning to his eyes in a small glitter.
There they sat in silence for the next thirty minutes as Kaeya finished off his stew and sipped at the water. Then, as if he’d regained some of his former strength, he shifted, lifting the tray and placing it at the foot of the bed, then gingerly laid back down on his back, exhaling immensely and closing his eyes. Diluc waited a few moments before he stood, convinced Kaeya had fallen back asleep, lifting the tray and moving to exit the room. When he’d gotten halfway out the door, he heard a quiet mumble from where his brother lay.
“Thank you.”
Without a response he latched the door shut.