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Childe finally opened his eyes. He didn't remember doing it, though.
His mind felt hazy, incredibly hazy, like he was watching a memory that he had long forgotten. Soon, he remembered his body, immobile, heavy, hard to use.
He saw the unmistakable bright red hair from the corner of his eye, slowly mustering the strength, the energy, to slightly move his head to better see it.
With the movement, he realized there was something warm resting against his head, but Diluc retracted his hand when Childe turned to face him. He let out a low, grumpy whine, surprised with the effort it took. He tried to reach out for Diluc's hand again, but only managed to move his arm a little, the limb refusing to cooperate.
Childe had been through too many life threatening emergencies to not be familiar with the effects of a sedative, but that didn't mean he could possibly get used to them.
“Childe?” Diluc called softly.
“Give back,” Childe slurred.
“Guess you’re not coherent yet.”
Childe grunted in response. As hard as it was to make sense of his physical body, his mind was slowly clearing up. He remembered having an unpleasant encounter with a giant white wolf while he had been hunting random Hilichurl in the mountains out of boredom. The wolf was strong, the fight was great, and Childe was definitely going back there at some point for a rematch.
But after his painful defeat, the strong rain refused to allow his wounds to stop bleeding, and, before he knew it, he had made it to Dawn Winery holding onto the last strings of consciousness, before promptly passing out slumped against Master Diluc’s expensive solid wooden doors, thoroughly staining them with his blood.
When he managed to regain more control over his body, he finally gathered the strength to reach out for Diluc’s hand again.
“What do you want?” Diluc seemed confused.
Childe realized he wasn’t yet ready to grab his hand and bring it closer as he wanted, so he just let his arm fall limp over Diluc’s own. He wasn’t even sure of what he wanted to do anymore.
Diluc sighed, but held his hand where it had fallen. Success.
“Do you actively seek out self destruction every time you come near the Winery? Or is it a curse someone put on you? Or actually, that would be a curse on me.”
“I know you miss me, sunshine”
“Then, are you implying the first option is correct?”
“You wouldn’t let me in if I wasn’t dying, would you?”
“... fair.”
Diluc placed a hand on Childe’s neck, paying attention to his pulse and temperature.
“What was it this time? You smelled like a wet, dead boar, so I can only assume you decided to harass local wildlife.”
“Have you ever seen this giant, white wolf in those nearby mountains?”
“Oh, Archons, did you pick a fight with Boreas?”
Childe chuckled at Diluc facepalming.
“I forgot to ask his name.”
“You’re an idiot.”
He laughed again and, this time, he winced at the pain in his torso.
“Be careful,” Diluc was immediately focused on him, making sure he wouldn’t hurt himself. “You have some broken ribs.”
“I figured.”
Now, sensation in his body had been coming back, and quite a few uncomfortable feelings came with it. He burned, ached, had a thousand different kinds of pain in each of his injuries, stitches pulling at his skin, bandages tightly wrapped around him. He wasn’t a stranger to these kinds of wounds, but he knew he had maybe gone too far this time.
“This is a bit worse than what I’m used to.”
“You’re a bit more of an idiot to what I’m used to,” Diluc replied, deadpan. “Maybe next time try to not go fighting legendary spirits in the woods."
“But I was bored,” he whined.
Diluc sighed heavily . He knew Childe wasn't dumb enough to not understand his current situation.
“Whatever. Are you in pain?”
“Not a lot. I've had worse.”
“Good. Let me know if it gets too bad or if you need anything.”
“And you still wonder why I come here when I'm hurt? You're such a caring host!” Childe smiled.
“I will throw you back out in the storm.”
“You would never!”
Diluc glared at him before sighing.
“I wish I would.”
There was a knock on the door. Now, having his attention finally pulled from Diluc, it fully sank into Childe that he was in one of the many empty rooms at the winery. He'd been there so many times it almost felt like his own.
“Master Diluc?” Adelinde's voice called.
“Yes?”
She opened the door a bit.
“You haven't eaten yet, so I came to remind you.”
“Hi, Adelinde!” Childe waved, wincing a bit at the pain it caused.
“Hello, Childe,” she smiled, “it's good to see that you're awake.”
He didn't miss how Diluc's expression softened at their exchange.
“So, you skipped a meal just to stay here with me? How sweet.”
“I didn't trust that you wouldn't wake up and immediately try to get up and leave.”
Childe laughed.
“You know me too well.”
Diluc got up from the chair that was by the bedside and approached the door, taking a look back at Childe.
“Don't do anything stupid.”
“I’ll try my best!”
Once alone in the room, he allowed his cheerful demeanor to drop. By habit and by the experience he’d earned both in the Abyss and in the Fatui, Childe closed his eyes and focused on what he could feel, trying to assess his body’s condition.
He’d definitely lost a fair amount of blood, if his memories of the crimson pooling around him on the ground was anything to go by. He did feel tired and slightly lightheaded too, but it was hard to tell the exact cause. It could be the pain medication he’d surely been given, or it could be his wounds.
It made him wonder what it would feel like to not have been patched up and given anything at all. That is, if he was even alive had he not made it to the winery, if just laying low in the woods, eating whatever he could hunt or fish, would be enough to get him through this, like it had many times before.
He had too much to thank Diluc for, and yet, every time they met, he seemed to cause more trouble for him. That simply wouldn't do. Next time, he’d show up half dead with some nice gifts, at least.
Diluc came back a while later, sat by the bed again and asked to check his wounds, just to make sure the bleeding had really stopped. Childe let him, curious to see what they looked like, and waited as Diluc pulled the blanket down slowly, as if waiting for Childe to stop him. He didn't.
And it allowed him to see the state his body was in, rather than just feel it. It looked similar to other times he'd been stabbed, and he was suddenly too aware of his wounds, uncomfortable, painful. He reached for one, but Diluc caught his arm.
“Don't.”
“I'm gonna throw up”
Instead of backing away, Diluc reached under the bed and came back with a bucket. Childe let out a faint laugh.
“How are you ready for anything?”
Diluc positioned it close to Childe's face, and tilted his head slightly towards it.
“It's normal for you to feel nauseous after having your belly ripped open, you know.”
Childe could feel himself getting anxious, sweating, all the usual signs of needing to put something out, and he even felt himself jerk a little bit, stomach and esophagus spasming and closing his airways, but what came out was just a bit of murky blood, leaving an awful taste in his mouth. It didn't even stain the bucket, just hung from his chin, mucous enough to not drop. He spat it out, feeling sick, gross.
“Do you have a napkin or something?”
Diluc gave him some paper tissues. “Throw them in the bucket when you're done,” and he lowered it to the floor by the bed.
He did, after cleaning the repulsive mix of stomach acid, blood, and Archons know what else, from his face. He spat a bit more into the tissues, not wanting to swallow any of that.
“You're unusually nice today,” he mentioned, “am I going to die or something?”
Childe meant it as a joke, but the startled look of dread Diluc gave him made his chest ache . He didn't mean to hurt.
“No,” Diluc replied, taking a moment to regain his composure, “I’m just trying to prevent you from dying to your own stupidity.”
“Is it that bad?”
His expression was serious.
“You almost died. I don't mean that lightly.”
“I’ve almost died plenty of times.”
Diluc rolled his eyes.
“I have no idea how you didn’t die all the way yet.”
“Who knows? I must be too strong to die!”
“Or maybe too stupid.”
Diluc showed up every now and then to check on him, and Childe knew he'd been too distracted from his work to get much done between visits. He kept telling him to not worry and just go about his day as usual, but, in truth, all Childe wanted was for Diluc to stop leaving. Keep him company, distract him, talk to him. Gently brush his hair from his face and let him hold his warm hand.
Childe decided he was going mad from the blood loss and all the painkillers. And Diluc still wondered why he'd show up at the winery rather than at a healer.
His sleep schedule was now a mess, not that it had ever been very consistent to begin with. Between Diluc’s visits, the boring exercises he was coerced into doing, and the pain meds making his head fuzzy and sleepy, he was probably taking ten naps a day.
Another side effect of the medicine was that he became friendlier . He didn't remember a thing, but Diluc told him some horror stories about a half-sedated harbinger calling Adelinde “mom”, singing to himself in Snezhnayan, crying for seemingly no reason whatsoever, and asking the winery owner himself if he was “hot like that” because of his pyro vision.
Childe knew he wasn't lying because those seemed like things Childe himself would make up to mess with someone else, not things the relatively innocent and mature Diluc could possibly come up with. The head maid also seemed to hold back a laugh when asked about it.
Well, all things considered, at least he was healing. Maybe he owed Adelinde a nice bowl of his specialty soup as well.
“Childe?”
Childe opened his eyes, immediately locking with Diluc's.
He wouldn't say it out loud, but he was loving all the attention from the usually aloof winery owner. A sleepy smile made its way onto his face.
Diluc kept his hand where it was, fingers buried into messy orange hair, just feeling his body temperature before brushing some strands away from Childe's face.
“Mornin', Firefly”
“Good morning, idiot.”
Childe chuckled to himself. As far as cute nicknames went with Diluc, that was a pretty good sign.
“Are you in a good mood today?” He asked, basking in the warmth of his own bed, his head half buried in the softest pillow of Teyvat, the heavenly experience complete with Diluc's hand in his hair. He happily leaned into the touch.
Diluc's unusually serene expression almost turned into a smile, almost.
“How could I possibly be when there's a Fatui Harbinger in my house?”
“How tragic, the Fatui Harbinger you brought in yourself is still here.” Childe teased back. He could get used to this.
“Yes, and he keeps coming back. Shows up half dead at my door without notice.”
“Yeah? What an asshole.”
“I agree.”
They were smiling at each other. Diluc's soft and almost unnoticeable, Childe's sleepy and warm. The harbinger couldn't remember the last time he felt so comfortable.
Archons, he could get dangerously used to this.
“I wish you'd stop doing that.” Diluc said.
“Coming here?”
“When you are almost dead.”
“So can I come when I'm well?”
Diluc sighed, fond of his stupid harbinger.
“You can. And don't be an idiot, if you are hurt, you should come as well.”
“Then, what changes?”
“Hopefully you stop going into the woods to get the hilichurls to fling rocks at your face just so you can show up claiming to be hurt.”
“Hah, so you know I do that.”
“Razor told me.”
“Snitch.”
Diluc shook his head.
“You’re an idiot, you know?”
“I know, but you love me,” he grinned.
Diluc tried to hide his embarrassment and failed.
“Unfortunately.”
Childe just hoped Diluc could get used to this as well, because he might start dropping by a bit more often, maybe with some seafood soup ingredients and maybe with some flowers, instead of fatal injuries.
Just maybe.