Chapter Text

Diluc is losing time.

He tries to ground himself, feeling the rough fabric of his coat on his fingers, as he stares blankly at the bare walls of the master bedroom.

He is no fool. He knows firsthand the effects of delusion use. He knew what he was getting into the day he tore that glove from his father’s cold, clammy hand. He knew, but at the time, he didn’t care.

And now-

He doesn’t really know how to feel, now.

He entertains briefly the idea of some other illness. Something treatable, perhaps. Something that will give him more time. But the creeping darkness that he feels in his bones is impossible to ignore.

How fitting that it is he who destroyed himself, in the end.

Diluc takes stock of what he knows. The insistent pain in his delusion hand. The insomnia- not new, but significant enough not to ignore. The persistent dread. The exhaustion.

And now, the empty stretches in his memory where there should be time.

Diluc breathes, looks to the ceiling. He feels nothing.

He will need to put things in order. Then, he will contact the network.

What he leaves behind will at least be clean.

—

Crepus taught Diluc that everything moves in circles. The sun, the moon, the currents in the air, the cycle of death, a mother who creates a life at the cost of her own. Grapes growing and blooming and seeding and wilting and returning silently to the earth. Circles.

I am the serpent and I am the tail, Diluc thinks. Full circle.

—

It was no coincidence that Diluc was given a pyro vision, with his tendency to destroy every beautiful thing he holds.

Kaeya is again in the tavern, keeping an eye on the patrons and their chatter while nursing his usual Death After Noon. To an outside observer, he looks relaxed, just another knight out for a drink with his friends after a hard day of work. But Diluc knows him well enough to see the sharpness in his eyes, the way his gaze flicks across the room, searching for anything out of the ordinary, any detail that he might have missed.

Clever Kaeya, Crepus used to say. Your clever little brother.

Today, he’s accompanied by Sister Rosaria, who glances darkly at Diluc from time to time, as if daring him to start a fight. He ignores her easily.

His brother looks at him once. It is to order his drink.

Diluc turns away, schools his face, and pretends to be apathetic as the night wears on. He pours his blood-red wine, sighs at customers across the bar, stands cool and aloof behind the safety of the wooden counter, preserving the little game that they play, pretending nothing has changed.

Kaeya does not stay until closing today. Diluc turns his back on the bar as the door swings gently shut behind his brother’s retreating form. Later, he ushers out the final patrons, closes the door, and stands there, until footsteps fade into the night and all he can hear is the whisper of the wind and the echo of his own breathing.

—

It is the fate of a forest fire to be forever hungry, to yearn endlessly for a world it cannot have. To hold the ashes close as it howls. The more he wants, the more he destroys.

Diluc knows well how it feels be torn from someone who you know cares for you. The cruelest thing to do, right now, would be to offer something he cannot maintain.

In his imagination, at least, apologies have no consequences.

—

Diluc blanks again in the middle of his paperwork. When he comes back to himself, Adelinde is standing next to him, hand on his shoulder.

“Master Diluc,” she says quietly.

It takes a second to return fully to the present, the hard wooden desk, the smell of rain and the winery candles, the expense reports on the table.

“Ah,” Diluc says, “I apologize, Adelinde.”

She moves her hand, but does not step back, hovering as if uncertain whether he requires further touch.

“Are you quite alright, Diluc?” she says, the perfect picture of an attentive maid.

It is another game that they play, Diluc and the people whose paths wind alongside his. Holding each other at a calculated distance. Close enough to touch. Not close enough to burn.

But Diluc does not miss Adelinde’s fumbling of the rules. She'd dropped his title. He must have lost more time that he realized, if she is this concerned.

A breath passes and he realizes that he does not need to try to deceive her, this time.

When his father had died, they had called it illness then, too.

He rubs at his eyes and sighs, “Perhaps I will retire early, tonight.”

In the corner of his vision, he sees surprise flash across Adelinde’s face. They know each other too well and Diluc sees the exact moment that Adelinde realizes something is terribly wrong.

—

When Diluc sleeps, he dreams of a night in the snow. Everything white and red and black. Stars glittering dizzily in the frozen sky.

He prefers the exhaustion.

—

Kaeya is back in the tavern, tonight, and he hasn’t brought the stab-happy nun. Which would be a good thing if not for the fact that Kaeya’s attention is therefore focused mainly on him.

Diluc doesn’t know what happened, today, but the cavalry captain is not in a good mood.

The thing is- Diluc deserves this. He hates this and he hates his brother and he knows he’s earned every jab, every blow. Sometimes he wishes Kaeya would just hit him for real. Meet him in the rain like so many years ago and leave him bruised and bloody on the ground and then maybe he can finally learn to breathe again and maybe they can both move on.

And the worst part is he never will because Kaeya is a good fucking person.

And the worst part is Kaeya will never even get the chance.

—

A week or so later, he receives word from the network.

He exits the winery silently, easily blending into the darkness. He thinks the whispering woods must be colder than usual tonight. The slight breeze chills him down to his bones.

An agent is waiting for him in the planned location. As he draws closer, Diluc realizes he recognizes her. Her signature butterfly mask glows eerily in the light of the lamp grass carpeting the ground.

The network is nothing if not professional. Diluc draws a packet of compiled intelligence from his coat, and the agent silently exchanges it for a sealed letter. But when he turns to leave, the agent reaches out, clasping his arm.

He pauses.

She hesitates, briefly, glancing at the ground before bringing her head up to meet his eyes.

“For what it’s worth,” she says. “I’m sorry.”

Diluc stands there quietly for a moment, holding her gaze. They don’t even know each other’s names.

But he knows, as does she, that nobody else will ever know what happened to him. This is her mercy. She will remember.

“Thank you,” he responds, and it means you don’t have to, it means I have never felt so alone and it means maybe this is what I deserve.

Then the agent gently releases his arm. Their time is up. They both turn and disappear into the night.

—

It’s another week later that it happens.

Diluc is in his office, working late again, and then out of the blue it’s like he’s been hit with a sledgehammer of wrong.

His hand flares with violent pain.

Diluc only has a second to push back his chair and try to stand up before he’s overcome by dizziness and he sways hard, grabbing on to the desk for support, and the back of his leg slams into the chair and his glass of tea wobbles and falls and he thinks hysterically that all his paperwork will be ruined and it’s too late and his arms aren’t working right and he’s gasping for air and

Diluc hits the ground.

He is eighteen again and freezing and he can’t breathe.

Circles, he thinks desperately before night falls and everything turns black.

Chapter Text

Adelinde is working late when it happens.

The night is quiet and the winery echoes, so she hears with perfect clarity the shattering of glass followed by a loud thump from upstairs and her heart immediately drops to her feet.

Somehow, she just knows. She does not even consider that she might be mistaken.

Her breath pounds in her ears as she drops the papers she’d been holding, uncaring of the way they scatter on the floor, and sprints to the stairs. No, no, no, she chants inside her head, no, it can’t be, no, no, but there is no further sound and dread gathers in her chest as she reaches the office’s wooden door and throws it open to reveal-

The chair pushed back, glass shards glittering, tea pooled on the desk, dripping onto the floor, papers ruined, and Diluc, oh archons, Diluc, sprawled on the ground, unmoving, hair framing his head like a bloody halo.

No, no, no gods, please, Adelinde’s thoughts are scattered and her hands shake and she drops to the floor beside him, feeling desperately for a pulse.

It is there, but it is fluttering and faint. She lets out a frantic breath.

Adelinde gathers herself as best she can. Diluc needs medical attention and he needs it now. She feels so stupid, she knew, she knew something was wrong but for it to have escalated so quickly, Diluc’s breaths are shallow and painful and his skin is so pale and he’s lying there like it’s already too late-

A healer. A healer, now. She can’t carry him, who else is awake-

“HELP!” She shouts, as loud as she can. “HELP!”

—

Thank Barbatos for Elzer, Adelinde thinks, as she races behind him to the stables, Diluc in his arms.

Hearing Adelinde’s cries for help, he had immediately burst into the office, steady and logical in the face of Adelinde’s clear panic and the obvious severity of the situation.

“Oh, archons,” he had breathed, and then, following Adelinde’s train of thought, “Is he-“

“He’s breathing, but-“ she had choked out, and Elzer had wasted no time in scooping him off the ground, and-

It is a race against time, now, and Adelinde helps Elzer quickly onto a horse then ducks out of the way of its hooves as Elzer immediately departs at a gallop.

Please, please, hold on, she wills Diluc. She hasn’t seen him so helpless, so silent and small, since before the family fell apart, back when he was still a boy. Suddenly she is reminded of just how young he is.

Funny, she thinks, somewhat hysterically. Crepus was forty-four when he passed. The last Ragnvindr heir has fallen at only half that age.

—

A creeping horror fills Elzer as he realizes that Diluc is fading fast. His breaths rattle ominously in his chest and blood has begun to trickle from his nose, carving a violent red path down his face.

He curses, urging his horse faster.

Not much unsettles Elzer these days, but to lose the young heir so suddenly, and so soon after his father-

Elzer bursts into the city with all the elegance of a train wreck. It is late enough for the streets to be empty and so he doesn’t bother to slow, navigating the city streets at a gallop.

The cathedral, he thinks, please, let it not be too late-

He ignores the shout from in front of the Knights’ headquarters.

—

Something in the wind is tense.

Kaeya can’t explain it, but all afternoon he had felt restless. Like something was about to happen. Electric, like the air before a lightning strike.

He’s no astrologist, but he knows enough about Teyvat’s resident divine to know that a feeling like that is no coincidence.

He stays late at headquarters, trying to distract himself with busywork, but gets very little done, the heightened anxiety preventing him from concentrating. Every noise, every shiver of a breeze makes him jump.

He needs a drink.

After his third time rereading a particularly detailed account of Huffman tripping over a Dendro slime, he decides to just accept that nothing’s getting done today. He shuffles a stack of mission reports to the side of his desk. He’ll just deal with those tomorrow, he thinks, or even better, figure out how to pawn them off to Amber when Jean’s not paying attention.

The building is silent and empty as he leaves. He almost skips going to the library to drop off an almost overdue book he’s finished, then wonders what’s wrong with him to risk Lisa’s wrath. Still, his heart rate accelerates at the sound of his shoes echoing eerily across the marble floor. His breath catches at a quiet fluttering sound, but when he turns around it’s just a book left open on one of the desks, pages caught by the wind.

He lets out a sigh when he finally shuts and locks the heavy wooden door to the building.

The moment of peace doesn’t last.

Honestly, it’s almost a relief when he notices the unidentified horseman. He squints, trying to make out the rider’s features in the dark, but they’re moving fast and the Mondstadt skyline casts too many shadows in the moonlight, obscuring their shape. He considers lifting his eyepatch for the additional depth perception, but the the horseman turns without slowing, racing down the street towards him, and Kaeya stills, steadying himself for some kind of attack, perhaps a citizen caught off guard, or-

And then he catches sight of brilliant red hair, and it hits him like a truck.

Diluc.

—

By the time Kaeya gets to the cathedral, it’s already a mess of activity.

Diluc lies prone on what looks like a rollaway cot. The deaconess stands beside him, hands resting on his temple, brows furrowed in concentration. Several other exhausted-looking sisters rush about, one carrying a tub of water, another helping Elzer into a chair, a third with her hand on Barbara’s shoulder in a gesture of support.

Kaeya just stands there stupidly for a moment, overwhelmed and not sure what to do, before he locks eyes with a familiar figure who immediately heads purposefully towards him.

“Rosaria, I- what-“ he tries to ask, as she grabs him firmly by the arm and steers him to another available chair. He sits there blinking for a long, awkward second, before Rosaria leans down in front of him, her unamused face blocking his line of sight.

“Breathe, captain,” she says calmly, and hands him a waxpaper cup of water which he immediately chugs.

Reassured by Rosalia’s stable presence, Kaeya’s mind clears slightly, finding its way back to the present. He takes a few deep breaths, slightly embarrassed by his momentary lapse of critical thinking ability.

Rosaria cracks a wry smile, as if reading his mind. “Back with us, Brainfreeze?” She quips, no bite to her tone.

Okay. He’s fine. He can do this.

“What did- do you know what happened?”

Rosaria sighs, moving to sit beside him in a second chair. “Nobody knows. Apparently a maid found him. Heard him collapse upstairs, and when she entered the room..” She shrugs, making a vague gesture in Diluc’s direction.

Too much is happening right now and information gathering is something Kaeya is much more comfortable with, so settling into detective mode, he starts to arrange the puzzle pieces in his mind’s eye. The only maid Rosaria could be talking about who would be at the winery at this time of day is Adelinde. If it was something innocuous, she would know- Diluc is pretty good at hiding illness, but if it were something common he would just push through like the crazy asshole he is, and wouldn’t bother taking the time to keep Adelinde in the dark.

Though, the implication that Adelinde rushed upstairs at the sound of a single loud impact suggests she might know more than she’s letting on.

“Does Barbara know..?” he asks, glancing back at Rosaria.

“No,” she responds, watching the young nun who is still focusing intently on her task. “She said there was some physical damage, which her elemental healing can address, but there’s something else.”

There is a pause, as Rosaria contemplates how much information to offer.

"Something else?" Kaeya prompts.

She sighs, and turns back towards him, making eye contact. “Whatever’s causing the problem, she can’t fix it,” she says, her voice taking on an uncharacteristically gentle edge.

Dread crashes into Kaeya like a wave, and he’s suddenly hit with the awareness he was trying to avoid.

“But he’ll be okay, right?” he responds, hating the way he sounds like a desperate child.

Rosaria reaches over and clasps his hand.

Chapter Text

The world is blinding white.

It’s snow, Kaeya knows, but it doesn’t look like snow, or feel like snow. Or behave like snow. It has nothing to do with snow except being white and being, supposedly, snow.

He doesn’t like it very much.

He turns in a full circle, seeing nothing but the snow around him, and then turns again, because there is really seriously nothing there. Which makes it even more jarring when he turns around for the third time and there is something there.

It’s something red.

It is a round stone, transparent, and mounted in what appears to be a metal casing, which glints oddly in the light from the- snow.

Kaeya is suddenly struck with the knowledge that this is a vision. Diluc’s vision.

He needs to pick it up, right now. He needs to hold it and keep it safe and out of the snow, and with that realization he lunges for it, feeling an inexplicable desperation.

But the moment he curls his fingers around the softly glowing stone, he realizes he’s made a mistake.

Because it’s cold.

As he watches, frozen in horror, black chains erupt from the snow beneath the stone, forcing his fingers to clench around the not-Diluc’s-vision and then pulling, pulling the red and the metal and his hand beneath the oppressive white and he stumbles forward and trips and falls and he’s going to-

—

Kaeya wakes with a start to the feeling of someone gently shaking his shoulder.

For a blissful second, he sees sunlight streaming through the cathedral’s great circular stained glass window and thinks warmly about what a pretty sight it is to wake up to.

Then he questions why the hell he’s waking up in the cathedral in the first place, asleep in a wooden chair no less, and the memory of last night’s events comes crashing in through any semblance of peace he had felt.

He shoots to his feet. Where is Diluc?

“Uh, Sir Kaeya..” comes a nervous voice from beside him, where he can’t see, and he most definitely does not yelp as he snaps his head violently towards the source of the sound.

The speaker cringes and shuffles a few steps to the side.

Oops. He feels guilty, seeing what is clearly a young new nun looking terrified out of her mind.

“Uh, I’m sorry to disturb you, sir,” she ventures.

Kaeya takes pity on her. “Is there something you need from me?”

She gives him an apprehensive look. “Yes, um. Just that, at your, uh, earliest convenience, Grandmaster Jean would like to see you.”

Acting Grandmaster Jean can come look for him herself. “Sure. Thanks for the heads up, hun.”

“Captain, sir.” With a quick curtsy, the nun scurries away.

Kaeya does a cursory scan of the cathedral, noticing that, after the nun slips through a door to what is presumably living quarters, he is completely alone in the main chamber. They must have moved Diluc while he was asleep.

There are no other options to consider, he tells himself firmly, before setting off towards the nearest back hallway.

—

Diluc is aware of. Something.

He hovers on the edge of nothing, knowing briefly the colors and shapes around him, but nothing sticks. He is a stone in the riverbed, time flowing past him endlessly and slowly and

Chipping

Pieces

Away

Everything is pain, everything is wrong but he can’t even separate the deluge from his own consciousness let alone understand what is happening to him.

help me, he says without saying. helpme helpmehelp

But nobody is around to hear. He cannot even hear himself.

Diluc sinks into unknowingness once more.

—

The next time Diluc surfaces, he finds himself somewhere familiar. He is sitting in a clearing in Wolvendom, a spot he knows from when he was young and still afraid of what the world could do to him.

“Father,” Diluc says.

No, says the thing sitting next to him.

“You are wearing my father’s skin.”

That does not.. work that way, it responds.

Diluc turns, looks him up and down. “Why are you wearing his skin. Why do you look like my father.”

Oh. Because I am, the thing answers thoughtfully. To an extent.

Diluc thinks that perhaps he should be afraid. Unfortunately, the best he can muster is a mild annoyance.

“You are being obtuse on purpose.”

It snorts, sounding oddly affectionate.

Definitely not his father, Diluc thinks.

There are no things to say, for a moment, and that is when Diluc remembers that the ground in Wolvendom isn’t supposed to be covered in snow.

—

Dawn, Diluc thinks warmly, my girl.

A breeze tickles his face, catching a loose strand of hair before moving on to tease through the tall grass carpeting Starsnatch Cliff. Diluc watches Dawn catch the wind, turning lazy circles high above the fluttering cecilias.

She spirals down from the sky, talons outstretched, and he offers her his forearm, where she gratefully lands, ruffling her feathers and bouncing from foot to foot, seemingly finding a comfortable position. She swivels her head to look at him, fixing him with one piercing eye.

And then.

You are dying, my master, she says.

Ah.

Dawn is a bird and there is much she cannot understand, but sometimes she is more perceptive than anyone else he knows. She does not bother with platitudes, only cuts through to the truth with a single strike.

Diluc thinks he would make a better bird than person, sometimes.

Dawn shuffles up his arm until she reaches his shoulder and then settles into the perch, her feathery wing pressed against the side of his ear.

Neither offer any further explanation. They stand there quietly, amongst the wind and the cecilias, for a long time.

—

You can’t go up there, says the thing that is not his father.

Dragonspine glitters invitingly in the pale moonlight. Blue light flickers eerily on the summit, warping both their faces with reflected color.

Diluc ignores it, stepping carefully around it to place his feet in the snow.

No, seriously, Diluc, stop, it says. You can’t go up there. It’s too cold.

“I will light a fire,” he says, not slowing his pace.

The thing rushes forward to stand in front of him again. You can’t do that here, it says, and Diluc is surprised to hear a touch of apprehension in its voice.

“Then I will move quickly,” Diluc responds, watching its feet as it shuffles to block his path.

No, you don’t understand, it says, a pleading note to its voice. If you go there, I can’t follow. You will freeze and then you will die.

“Too late to worry about that,” says Diluc mildly.

It draws back as if slapped.

No, it’s not, it responds forcefully, and Diluc glances up in surprise.

Its face is twisted in what looks like concern and desperation and sorrow, all at once. Diluc is suddenly flooded with guilt. That’s not your father, he reminds himself.

He does not respond, instead making a halfhearted effort to pass the thing again.

What is it that you want up there? it asks.

Diluc pauses. He just knows that he needs to. Something is calling to him, up there, to keep walking, to- “I just need to follow the path, and get to the summit.” He breathes out. “And then everything will be over.”

Is that what you want? the thing says, and it sounds like it’s about to cry. For everything to be over?

“I-“ caught off guard, Diluc looks back at the thing, its face open and vulnerable and glowing in the moonlight.

Is that what he said?

Is that what he means?

Please, says the thing. I can’t let you do that. Can’t let us do that.

Diluc is suddenly, inexplicably, flooded with anger.

“Don’t you understand?” he bites out. “I did this to myself. I know the order of things. I’m not arrogant enough to believe I am exempt from consequences.” He digs his fingernails into his fists at his sides. “I can kill and lie and burn but I can’t leave? That’s where you draw the line?” His volume increases until he’s shouting. He barely realizes. “You don’t think that maybe this is what I deserve?”

And when have you ever gotten what you deserve? It asks softly.

Instead of responding, Diluc grits his teeth and pushes past the thing.

He only gets a few steps in before the thing speaks again, but-

“Luc, please.”

And that is Kaeya’s voice.

He stills.

“How dare you,” he hisses, refusing to even turn and look at the thing that is now not his brother.

“I don’t know what else to do,” it says.

“Leave,” Diluc says harshly.

“I can’t.”

“This is how it’s supposed to be. This is the right thing to do.”

“Does he know that?” The thing says, in Kaeya’s voice. “Does Kaeya think this is the right thing to do? When he has to bury his brother next to his father, under the ashes of his home and beside the place his parents left him, is that the way it’s supposed to be?”

It hits Diluc like a blow right to the chest, stealing his momentum. He freezes, feels his fingernails cut into his skin.

“It wasn’t enough,” the thing continues bitterly, “to leave him once?”

“I know,” says Diluc. Softly. “It was selfish of me. To think to come back.”

He hopes his fingers have drawn blood.

“No,” it says. “No, Diluc, you never should have gone in the first place.”

Chapter Text

Kaeya has been here before. He tries to remember why he knows this place, endless with no depth and filled with snow that is definitely not snow.

He’s struck with the knowledge that there is someone to his left. He turns, quickly, but sees nothing but empty space and endless snow.

And then he blinks, and oh- there is someone there.

It’s Crepus.

He has no time to process the reappearance of his long dead father before Crepus reaches out to grab him by the shoulder, drawing him closer with an unsettling intensity in his gaze. His eyes flick back and forth across Kaeya’s face, as if he’s searching for something, and whatever it is he must have found it because suddenly he drops his gaze and pulls back to clasp Kaeya’s hand, instead.

“He’s running out of time,” he says, drawing something from his pocket and pressing it into Kaeya’s palm.

Kaeya doesn’t see it, at first, too focused on trying to read Crepus’ confusing facial expression. Then, when Crepus’ hands retreat, he looks down to identify what it is he is holding.

It’s a smooth, round, red stone in a metal casing. Oh. He knows what this is.

But when he looks back up to ask Crepus where he’d gotten Diluc’s vision, he’s gone. As Kaeya whips his head from side to side, trying to catch a glimpse of where his late father had disappeared to, he suddenly feels something warm drip down the side of his hand.

“What?” he murmurs, looking down at Diluc’s vision again.

Which is melting, sticky liquid covering the gleaming metal of the casing, pooling in his cupped fingers and dripping down to stain the pale snow bright red.

No, more like-

Kaeya’s eyes widen in horror as his nose is assaulted with the familiar tang of iron.

—

Diluc knows this room. This is the manor bathroom.

He can’t help but feel nostalgic. It looks exactly the same as it did when he was young, three toothbrushes in a cup by the sink, his father’s favorite shaving cream, an empty wine bottle they’d left on the windowsill as a sort of inside joke from the time Kaeya had tried to convince some poor kid that Crepus brushed his teeth with wine.

Diluc spends a long moment lost in the past, before his concentration is broken by a shuffling sound behind him.

When he turns to face the noise, he can’t help his sharp inhale.

That’s him.

It’s him, in his new crisp Favonius uniform that he remembers being so proud of. He recognizes the braided high ponytail as unmistakably Kaeya’s work, placing him at around fourteen or fifteen.

And he’s lying in an uncomfortable looking position in the bathtub, head resting at a sharp angle on the rim, shivering slightly as his eyes flutter like he’s just hanging on to staying awake.

Oh.

All of a sudden he remembers this, here, and the sharp scent of iron reminds him of the torn waistcoat of the uniform barely hiding a slice that hit bone.

“Hey,” he says quietly, “can you hear me?”

The other him does not respond.

He shifts closer to the bathtub and crouches down, getting close enough to reach out and pat his younger self on the shoulder. “Hey.”

Younger Diluc gasps, eyes flying open.

Diluc gives him a second to regain his senses.

“Kid,” he says, drawing other Diluc’s attention. “You need to get that looked at.”

His younger self tries to respond, but his mouth is too dry to choke out anything but a painful wheeze. After a couple ragged sounding coughs, he licks his lips, and tries again.

“I can’t,” he rasps.

“You have to,” Diluc says, brows knitting together. What happened, when this memory occurred in real life? He can’t remember, but from this angle he can clearly see the blood soaking his uniform and pooling in the bottom of the bathtub and it’s certainly enough to be a cause for concern.

Younger him breaks his train of thought with another rasping cough. “I just need to- rest- a little,” he says, eyelids starting to lower again.

“No, don’t,” Diluc says, alarmed. “That is a significant injury. Untreated, it could cause permanent damage.”

That seems to catch memory Diluc’s attention again, tilting his head to meet Diluc’s eyes. “Permanent, huh,” he says.

Then he drops back against the side of the bathtub with an audible thunk.

“Maybe,” he chokes out quietly, “that is- a good thing.”

“I don’t understand,” Diluc responds.

“You don’t- remember?” memory Diluc rasps. “Our first- failure.”

And then all of a sudden he does remember.

An ambush. He had been unprepared.

He’d been the one to make the decision to travel light. Just him, and a few junior knights. As soon as he realized, he had shouted orders but it was no use. And as he’d directed them-

Jansson, his name had been.

He had never thought to imagine, before, what happens to a skull when it makes contact with a mitachurl’s axe.

“Oh,” is all he can say.

And he remembers, realizing all he could do was keep moving- pain, blooming in his side, pushing someone out of the way- the galloping of horses-

And then when he’d returned to Varka, to give a mission report, as the other knights were treated in the medical bay, the Grandmaster wouldn’t even look at him.

He had stood there in silence, posture perfect, resolutely ignoring the burning pain in his side, until finally Varka decided he had made his point.

“Captain,” he had said. “This negligence will not happen again.”

“Yessir,” he’d responded quietly, steeling himself for a lecture, but it never came. Varka never turned, never spoke, never even dismissed Diluc. He had simply said, “Get out.”

He watches the copy of himself in the bathtub, seeing the pain echoed in every line of his face. When he was alone, he did not need to pretend.

“It hurts,” younger Diluc says. And this is something he does not remember, but it rings truer than any other thing he’s said. Younger Diluc’s eyes are wide and glassy and vulnerable in a way he can barely remember being. “I don’t understand.”

Diluc has no response to give.

“Not the medbay, but you could see a healer,” Diluc offers in lieu of an answer. His younger self breaks eye contact to make what he assumes to be an aborted attempt to shake his head. “Only- Jean,” he says, “I can’t- they’ll see.”

Diluc wants to disagree, but he is also intimately familiar with his other self’s reasoning. Barbara is still a toddler, at this point, and entirely incapable of handling even a papercut. Jean is- well, he has just committed a spectacular failure, for the very first time, and left in disgrace. Returning to the knights’ headquarters, against Varka’s orders, to see Jean? It would be seen as a disrespect to the Grandmaster at best, an admission of weakness at worst. He would lose the rest of the knights’ respect, and as the youngest cavalry captain in Ordo history, he needed all the respect he could get.

However, Diluc thinks, the fact remains that the wound is severe.

“What did we do, last time?” he asks, knowing his memory will understand what he means.

Younger Diluc lifts one bloodied hand to point at Diluc’s buttoned coat. He fixes his older self with a pitying gaze. “Look,” he whispers.

After a momentary pause, Diluc shrugs off his coat and then slowly, feeling strangely apprehensive, unbuttons his shirt, pulling it to the left to reveal the patch of skin where the wound had been.

And stares blankly at the long, thick burn scar where a thin slice of scar tissue should be.

He finally notices the kitchen knife, next to the bathtub. It was easier if you could find something with a handle, he remembers.

He had been fourteen.

Thank gods the manor had been empty, Monday afternoons. Nobody had been around to hear him scream.

—

“Why are you showing me this,” Diluc says, eyes fixed straight forward, his tension belied by the force of his hands on the side of the bathtub.

“You already know this happened,” says the thing that is not Kaeya, quietly. “But did you ever really understand?”

—

Jean comes to find Kaeya in the cathedral, just as he had anticipated.

The soft groan of the door opening is the only sound announcing her presence, as she pads over to sink into the couch kindly provided by the church.

Neither acknowledge the other’s presence, for a while. Jean busies herself taking in Diluc’s condition, as best she can. He looks awful, pale, with his hair untied, dark circles under his closed eyes, and his uneven breaths sound painful and shallow.

“Barbara will be back again, later tonight,” Kaeya offers quietly.

Jean leans into his shoulder, as much a gesture of support as it is a comfort to herself.

“They still don’t know what’s wrong with him,” he says. “All Barbara can do is just try to keep him stable.”

“She’s good at what she does,” Jean replies.

He sighs, good eye fluttering closed, and he sounds so utterly defeated.

They sit there in silence, three old friends who used to know everything there was to know about each other, and everything aches.

Jean already knows, but Kaeya says it anyway.

“It won’t be enough.”

—

“I can’t,” says Diluc.

Rain pours from the dark, clouded sky, drenching both him and the thing that is not Kaeya.

“Don’t you know where we are?” it responds.

“Of course I know where we are,” snaps Diluc. “But why?”

Something crashes, somewhere deeper in the trees. A burst of flame reveals two figures, silhouetted in the night.

Despite himself, Diluc flinches.

“Because this is when you lost me,” the thing says.

—

When Kaeya goes home, it is not to his cozy apartment in the city.

He’s barely raised his fist to knock on the door to the winery when it swings open, revealing a distraught looking Adelinde.

“Oh, Kaeya,” she says, and it’s all the warning he gets before she bursts into tears.

“Addy,” he breathes, and his feet move without thinking towards the woman who’s the closest thing he has to a mother, and Adelinde pulls him into a tight hug, sniffling into his jacket.

She pulls away after a few moments, drying her eyes with her sleeve.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, dear,” she says thickly, sounding a little embarrassed, “it’s just been a difficult few days.”

“Don’t be,” Kaeya responds earnestly, as she meets his eyes. “I understand. I really, really understand.”

“You would,” she says sadly, and reaches a hand to briefly cup his cheek.

Then she sighs, dropping her arm back to her side. “Is there anything I can get you? Tea, perhaps? Oh, have you eaten?”

“I’m alright,” he says, “no need to be a mother hen.”

“Little rascal,” Adelinde replies, and Kaeya warms at the small smile that returns to her face as she shakes her head. Then she quickly sobers. “Here on business, then.”

“Yes,” Kaeya says. He sighs, before continuing, “The office. Jean and I were just wondering..”

“Of course,” Adelinde responds softly, shuffling around in the pockets of her skirt for the key. “Take all the time you need. If anything else comes up, just shout.”

“Thank you,” he says, the feeling of the cold metal somewhat unpleasant in his hand.

“Of course,” she says. She pats him on the back, one last time, before he turns to the stairs, listening to the retreating click of her boots as she returns to finish her duties.

The winery hallways look exactly how he remembered, and for once Kaeya is thankful for Diluc’s distaste for change. He makes his way to the office door, hesitating slightly before pushing it carefully open.

Kaeya notices gratefully that staff must have decided not to clean the office after the incident, likely concerned about removing clues. Waterstained papers are scattered across the desk, rendered unreadable by bleeding ink. Shattered glass pieces dot the mess, glittering like stars in the sunlight from the office’s window. The chair is slightly pushed back, completing Kaeya’s visual image of the scene- Diluc knocking over a glass in his hurry to stand, destroying a painstakingly organized stack of paperwork as he lost balance and crashed to the ground.

So he had been caught unawares, then. Odd.

Kaeya makes his way behind the desk, intending to poke around in the drawers when his eyes catch on a strange looking letter, half hidden under a nondescript textbook on Mondstadtian history. He tugs it out from below the tome.

It’s sealed with wax, unlabeled except for a small symbol just below the seal which looks like two interlocking rings. He carefully breaks the seal, not overly concerned about the breach of privacy given everything else that’s going on.

The text spans several pages, written in a what seems like some sort of code. But given the map drawn on the first page, marked with several locations where, Kaeya happens to be aware, there was previously Abyss activity, he surmises that this is some sort of information transfer.

It’s definitely not written in Diluc’s fine script, answering his long running question about how exactly the Darknight Hero has known all these years when and where to strike.

The encoded text continues for several pages, before a single line catches his eye. It stands out, occurring a few spaces after the code, the only line written in the common tongue.

“We regret to hear of your illness,” it says. “You have been a great help.”

And then the letter ends.

Chapter Text

Kaeya is in the snow, again.

There’s a pressure, building in his chest. A certainty that there something he’s supposed to do.

But as he turns, scanning the frozen landscape, he can find absolutely nothing but snow.

He’s just gotta look harder, right? He’s sure that there’s something here that he’s just missing-

Oh yeah! It’s something of Diluc’s.

There’s something that belongs to Diluc, and it’s gonna be right here any minute now, and then he’ll do whatever it is he needs to do, as soon as he just finds that thing-

The anxiety is really getting to him now, as he spins in a circle and another and another and there’s still nothing but empty white.

But it’s okay, because it’s gonna be here, right?

Somewhere?

—

“Over here!”

Diluc starts at the noise, because he knows that voice, but there’s no way it could possibly be-

“Hey, Mister! Over here!”

There’s a little red-haired kid waving excitedly at Diluc from across the winery grounds, down by the river. Awfully close to the river, actually, and jumping around on the rocks precariously.

The moment he opens his mouth to call out a warning to his younger self, the kid steps back into open air and with pitches backwards towards the water with a yelp.

Diluc’s heart skips a beat as the kid disappears momentarily into the river. Luckily, the area where he fell seems to be shallow, as he immediately pops back up, unharmed but considerably damper.

Diluc jogs over as little Diluc clambers back on top of the rocks by the shore, hair and clothes dripping water. Once he’s secure again, he swipes his hands down his sides, doing his best to wipe off the dirt and leaves stuck to his coat.

“Aw, darn,” he mumbles, shaking his sleeves in what Diluc assumes is an attempt to get the water out.

By this time, Diluc has made it over to the edge of the river. “Are you alright?” He says gently.

“Yeah,” his mini self says unhappily, “but Miss Adelinde is gonna be so mad.” He shakes his sopping wet arms in emphasis.

“If you don’t mind,” Diluc offers, “I might be able to dry you off a little.”

“Thanks,” his younger self responds, sounding a little disappointed, “but you can’t do that here.”

“What?”

Giving his arms one last good shake, little Diluc looks up at Diluc. “I’m a memory, right? So you can’t do that kinda stuff. It won’t work.”

Huh.

“Well, how about we get that coat off, and find someplace warm to get dry?” Diluc suggests.

“Mkay!” says little Diluc, perking up immediately. “I know where we can go! Um, I mean, if you’re not busy or anything.” He turns his head to look uncertainly at his older self.

Diluc looks back at his counterpart’s nervous, hopeful expression, and smiles, hoping it’s reassuring. He holds out a hand. “Lead the way.”

—

So Diluc knew, Kaeya thinks.

We regret to hear of your illness.

He was sick and he knew and he didn’t fucking tell anyone. Except, apparently, for his informants, so that they’d know he couldn’t do his job properly.

You have been a great help.

And that’s all? The only people Diluc apparently gave two shits about, and their response is basically, “Cool, you were helpful before you died?”

What the fuck.

He tries to throw the letter across the room, forgetting in his frustration that paper is basically the weight of Barbatos on crack, and it flutters pathetically to the floor. Furious, not thinking straight, Kaeya grabs the history textbook and throws it. It misses the paper, instead slamming into the wall with a loud thunk before dropping to the floor.

“Everything okay?” comes a shout from downstairs.

Oh shit. Now, on top of everything else, he’s traumatized poor Adelinde.

“Fine!” he shouts back in response, ignoring the stuff on the ground and instead collapsing into Diluc’s desk chair, dropping his face into his hands.

He breathes, in, out, trying to calm down.

Footsteps echo up the stairs. Before long, he hears the creaking of the door. “Sorry. I’m fine,” he says into his hands.

“I see. Just checking,” Adelinde responds carefully.

There’s a moment of awkward silence.

“Hey, Adelinde,” Kaeya asks, dropping his hands from to his lap, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He’s already dreading the answer. “Did you know he was..”

Adelinde sighs.

“I don’t know,” she admits. He hears her feet scuff against the floor as she moves to the corner of the room, and the scraping sound as she pulls over a stool to sit on.

She pauses, collecting her thoughts. Kaeya stares at the ceiling.

“There were signs, I think,” Adelinde starts. “He had been acting differently. I just, I didn’t even imagine…”

She trails off.

“He’s always been a good actor,” Kaeya admits.

“I suppose he has.”

They sit in silence for a moment, again.

“And did he- did he tell you, anything.”

“No,” Adelinde responds quietly.

Kaeya hates himself for feeling better, at that.

—

Memory Diluc’s hair ribbon falls out on the way to the secret spot. He doesn’t seem to notice so Diluc points it out, at which point he pauses their little adventure to save the ribbon from being lost.

“Whoops,” his younger self says, dropping his counterpart’s hand to pat at the still damp back of his head and confirm the loss of his usual ponytail. Diluc crouches at his side to pick up the little piece of fabric.

“Here,” Diluc offers him the ribbon, which younger Diluc takes gratefully, but with an unhappy look on his face.

Diluc looks at him appraisingly, trying to decipher what’s going on in his head.

“Do you want me to put your hair back up for you?”

Memory Diluc’s face immediately shows his relief. “Could you please?”

“Of course,” Diluc says, “whenever you find a good spot to sit at.”

Little Diluc scrambles ahead gleefully as they approach a little clearing surrounded by trees. Sunlight filters through the leaves, dappling a group of large, flat stones and bathing the area in a warm glow. A few fluffy dandelions sway back and forth as a gentle breeze passes by, completing an image that is so undeniably Mondstadt that it almost looks like it could be a postcard.

His younger self settles on a good spot amongst the stones, and cheerfully waves Diluc over. He hops excitedly as Diluc sits down.

“Can you do braids? That’s how Kaeya does it and he’s the best.”

“Yes,” he says, and pats the ground in front of him.

Little Diluc obediently scrambles over and sits down in front of him, and Diluc gets to work picking out an impressive number of leaves and branches out of the tangled strands.

“Father says if I work hard enough I’ll get to be a knight someday,” little Diluc chatters. “Just like he always wanted to be. Are you a knight?”

He tries to swivel his head to look back at his older self, eyes wide and sparkling. Diluc gently guides his face forward again.

“Hold still,” he says. And then hesitates. “I was a knight,” he offers.

“Woooow! Cool!” he exclaims. “I guess father is right then! I better keep working hard. I kinda miss hanging out with Kae though,” he says, face falling a little. “But I gotta keep up with training. Father says you have to make, um” he pauses, face scrunching in thought, “sacrifices for the greater good. And plus if it keeps Kae safe, it’s for sure worth it, right?”

“Of course,” Diluc responds, working through a particularly difficult tangle.

”How about Kae? Is he a knight?” younger Diluc continues, undeterred by the lackluster response. “Father says he’s still ajust- adjusting. So he doesn’t do lessons and stuff. But I think he’s super smart and plus he runs faster than me even, so I bet he’s way strong and he’s an awesome knight, right?”

Diluc can’t help but smile, at that. “Yeah,” he responds. “You know what? He even became the Cavalry Captain.”

“No way!” Diluc doesn’t have to see his memory’s face to know he’s grinning wide. “Oh man, he’s going to be so happy! Especially, since,” he pauses for a second, seemingly trying to find the right words, “I don’t think he knows that this can be his home yet. But being a Knights of Favonius captain! It doesn’t get more Mondstadter than that.”

“I don’t think that’s a word,” Diluc points out, amused.

“Whatever,” little Diluc dismisses cheerfully, “you get the point! Aw, that’s so cool. I knew he could do it.”

Diluc ruffles his hair. His younger self giggles, wriggling around. “Alright, alright, stop squirming,” Diluc sighs, fondly exasperated.

His counterpart settles down, still beaming. Diluc, realizing he hasn’t brought a comb, does his best to card his fingers through the hair and get some of the tangles out. It’s complicated by the fact the hair is still wet, so he goes about it gently, trying to avoid causing any pain.

“So you’re not a knight with Kae, then,” younger Diluc asks, after a minute of silence has passed. Diluc winces. “No.”

“Why not?”

Diluc sighs, wondering how he’s going to satisfy his younger self’s curiosity without explaining the whole situation. “I had… a disagreement. With some of the higher-ups.”

“You got in a fight? What about?”

Case in point. “They wanted to lie, about something that was… important, to me. Because they didn’t want to- well, look bad.”

“Oh,” younger Diluc responds. He quiets, for a while, processing, before speaking up again. “But Kaeya stayed?”

“Yes,” Diluc responds, trying not to flinch. His fingers still in his counterpart’s hair for a moment. “I don’t think.. we didn’t, uh, communicate well. He didn’t understand.”

“Oh,” his memory says, again. He pauses. Opens his mouth, as if he’s about to say something, and then changes his mind. Finally, in an indecipherable tone of voice, he offers, “Being with the knights makes him happy, doesn’t it.”

Diluc thinks of bubbly Amber, steadfast Jean. Cold Rosaria, offering a shoulder for Kaeya to lean on in the tavern when his brother is too drunk to stand. Albedo, with his stoicism and his genius. Klee’s easy laughter and bright smiles.

“Yes, it does,” he says quietly.

The leaves of the trees rustle in the wind, scattering blinking spots of sunlight across memory Diluc’s face. Diluc finally wrestles his hair into submission, tying off the end of the long braid securely with the ribbon and letting it fall against his back. “Done.”

“How about Father? He’s proud of Kaeya, right?”

“Always,” Diluc says.

“Okay,” he says, oddly still, face neutral. “That’s okay. I don’t need to be happy, if Kae and Father are.” He’s looking at something in the distance, something older Diluc can’t see, as he subconciously reaches to pull his braid over his right shoulder.

“Are you still friends? With Jean, and Kae, and baby Barbara?” he asks.

Diluc sighs, turning to face his younger self and brushing his damp hair from his forehead. He instinctively moves closer to comfort him, then hesitates, holding his arm awkwardly in the air, before making a decision, placing his hand across his counterpart’s shoulders before pulling him gently against his side. Younger Diluc rests his head against his older self’s shoulder, hair and clothes still damp, but feeling warm.

“You’ll love them,” Diluc whispers, “right up until it kills you.”

Chapter Text

Diluc is back in the forest, the rain, the first worst night of his life.

“No,” he breathes. “Take me back.”

The thing that is not Kaeya doesn’t answer, only points past his shoulder into the trees behind him.

Diluc whirls around just in time to see himself appear.

His younger self looks exactly how he remembers, hands still bloody, soaked to the bone, eyes wild, shaking hard. Father’s delusion is still in his pocket. His vision is somewhere lost in the mud. He trips, stumbles, catches himself against a tree. Then he finally looks up.

He makes eye contact with his older self. “I’m sorry,” he pleads, voice trembling.

“Are you alright,” Diluc says quietly, not knowing what else to say, pretending his heart isn’t beating out of his chest.

“I’m fine, but Kaeya, he- I- I don’t-”

“You didn’t touch him, in the end,” Diluc whispers, “Celestia saved him.”

“But I tried to,” his voice breaks, “I tried to hurt him, I tried to-”

“It’s okay,” Diluc says. It’s a lie.

His memory’s hand slips, and, unable to steady himself, he slides down against the trunk of the tree, landing on his knees in the mud. He makes no attempt to get up, shell-shocked, glassy-eyed.

“I don’t understand,” he chokes, “What happened. Why did it all go wrong? Why does- why does nobody care?”

Diluc is frozen in place, watching his younger self shatter into pieces, everything he had believed cracking apart. Realizing what he had done.

“I tried,” he sobs, “I swear, I tried so hard, I did everything right. I did everything everyone ever asked.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t ask for anything. I tried, I really tried, it wasn’t enough.”

“I know.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I ruined it. I ruined everything.”

Diluc looks up to the night sky, splattered with stars shivering endlessly in the dark, sharp and cruel and lonely in their distant constellations.

“I know.”

—

Kaeya, once again, dreams of snow.

But this time, he is not alone.

Diluc stands in front of him, but it’s all wrong. He’s much shorter, and younger, than he’s supposed to be, and he’s dressed in an old looking Knights of Favonius uniform. But the part that’s most wrong, that has Kaeya’s heart racing in his chest, is the massive bloodstain across his side. Drops of red liquid dye the snow red as he shifts, a violent slash through the empty landscape, and Kaeya, horrified, can’t tear his eyes away.

“Kaeya,” wrong Diluc says.

“Oh my gods,” he says. “You need- you need to-“

“Kaeya,” Diluc snaps, “I’m fine. We don’t have time for this.”

“We don’t have-“ he repeats incredulously, “Diluc, what about ‘you are bleeding out’ is not clicking here?”

“Would you listen to me? I’m a memory. I’m not the real Diluc. But he’s here, he needs your help, and we’re running out of time.” Wrong Diluc holds out a hand expectantly.

Kaeya eyes it uncertainly, confused, and not making any move to reach back.

“Kaeya, I’m not dying, my glove is not poisoned, I swear it on my mother’s grave. I can bring you to Diluc but you need to take my hand. Time is passing and if we don’t do this now it will be too late.”

Too late.

Kaeya’s getting a little tired of being too late.

You know what? Screw it. Kaeya takes Diluc’s hand.

—

“Diluc,” says the thing, from somewhere behind him, “we don’t have long.”

Diluc ignores it, fixing his gaze over the edge of Stormbearer Point. The sea stretches before him, vast and hungry and indifferent as far as the eye can see, swallowing the broken horizon and reaching up into the sky.

“Diluc,” it says again.

“Just leave,” Diluc responds, closing his eyes and feeling the harsh wind sting his cheeks, carrying with it the scent of salt and cold and rotting fish.

“I can’t,” it says miserably.

“What, because you care too much?” Diluc asks bitterly. Is he angry? He thinks he’s angry.

“No,” it responds, “Because we are the same. Two parts of the same whole, two pieces to the same puzzle.” It pauses. “And you will destroy us both.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” says Diluc.

“What am I? What do you think I am?”

“I don’t care,” Diluc responds. “The delusion that killed my father? The vision that nearly killed my brother?”

The waves crash and howl below them as the wind quickens. A single bird cries into the storm, voice washed sideways by the weather, searching for something that it is too lost to find.

“Diluc,” it says. “A glass stone is something a god gave, a pretty bauble to hang on your clothes. I am not a vision. I am not a delusion. I am what lives inside.”

“Then what,” Diluc says, “you are me?”

“I am you and I am not you. I am a piece of you. I am the light that burns and the darkness that chains you down, the serpent and the tail.”

“Then you understand.”

“No,” it says, voice heavy with what sounds like grief. “I don’t understand.”

Despite himself, Diluc turns away from the sea to face the thing.

And he watches.

As it is his father. Then it is his brother. Then it is Adelinde, and Elzer, and Jean and Barbara, Varka, Jansson. Then it is him, fourteen in his bloodied Knights uniform, eight and sopping wet, eighteen and alone. And then it is him, as he is, and it says with his own voice, “I am the part of you that makes you a person.”

It takes a step forward, looking up to meet Diluc’s eyes. “I am the part of you that feels. The part of you that wants.”

The wind whips its hair across its face. It looks, Diluc thinks, a lot like blood.

“So why,” the thing says, wretched, searching, “am I the part of you that you hate the most?”

Then it is him, ten, holding a glowing red stone in its palms for the first time, and its eyes are wide and innocent and aching. “Why,” and its voice breaks as it asks, “am I the part of you that you would die to escape?”

—

Memory Diluc pulls Kaeya quickly across what seems like miles of empty snow.

“Where are we going?” Kaeya asks.

“Diluc,” the memory says simply.

Helpful.

He looks to the side, trying to identify any landmark, any change in the landscape that might help him identify where he is. But still, he sees nothing but endless white.

He pointedly ignores the drops of red that mark their trail.

He sighs, readying himself to bother memory Diluc until he gets a straight answer, but as he looks back at the person holding his hand he starts in surprise.

Favonius Diluc is gone. In his place, there’s an eight-year-old.

The kid looks back at him, and pouting, tugs on his hand. “Come on, mister, don’t stop.”

“Yeah,” Kaeya says, accepting that none of this is going to make any sense. “Yeah, okay.”

—

Diluc doesn’t think he’s been crying, but as he stands again before Dragonspine, the mountain warps in his vision, a blurred, confusing mess of white and blue and dark starless sky.

“Don’t,” chokes out the thing, standing at his side.

Diluc says nothing, only takes a shaking breath.

“Who will run the winery,” the thing says. “Who will carry on the Ragnvindr name.”

“Does it make me a bad person,” Diluc says softly, “if I really don’t care.”

—

Kaeya has no idea how much time has passed until little Diluc pauses and reaches out his arm to point at something in the distance. “Dragonspine,” he says. “Keep going, okay?”

“I will,” Kaeya promises. And then, between one blink and the next, he is gone, and someone else is in his place.

And Kaeya can’t help but stumble back, because it’s Diluc, on his birthday, freshly eighteen with that brand-new rain-damp Favonius uniform covered in Crepus’ blood.

The memory steps back, showing the palms of his gloves as if to prove his hands are empty, and says, “I understand if you hate me.”

Kaeya shudders, taking a few deep breaths.

“No, it’s not-” breathe. “Just give me a moment.”

“Of course,” memory Diluc says quietly.

—

When Kaeya finally sees him, Diluc’s back is turned.

Memory Diluc gives him an indecipherable look. “Please,” he says, “help.” And then, without warning, he is gone.

“Diluc?” Kaeya calls.

Diluc starts, then turns.

He’s whole, uninjured, which is a relief, but still looks like absolute crap. Exhausted, unsteady on his feet, and his eyes are irritated as if he’s been crying.

He looks back at Kaeya, suddenly alert. “Wha- What? Did you-”

“No,” says something else, and Kaeya has no idea how he missed the thing that’s standing next to his brother.

He can’t pin it down, what it looks like, what it sounds like, but it’s so familiar it’s like staring in a mirror.

Nothing makes sense, he reminds himself, just get Diluc out.

“How is- is he real?” Diluc says.

“Yes,” says the thing, and at the same time, Kaeya says, “Are you okay?”

Diluc gives Kaeya an odd look.

“Okay, ignore me, whatever,” Kaeya sighs. “Come on. We have to go home.” He holds out his hand, like the memories had done, somehow knowing it’s the right thing to do.

Diluc doesn’t move.

“Kaeya can’t leave,” says the thing. “Until you do.”

“One way or another,” Diluc responds, face eerily blank.

“You’re really going to do this. Even right in front of your brother?” says the thing.

Kaeya starts to feel as though he’s missing something. Something big. Despite Diluc’s carefully crafted expression, he can see the lines of tension through his body, and though Kaeya can’t perceive a face from the- thing, he can feel its desperation. Right in front of your brother? What is it that Diluc doesn’t want him to see?

Diluc sighs, and it sounds so empty.

“No.”

He turns his head back to look at the cold peak, the glimmering light.

“I just wanted… I don’t know.”

“Go, then,” says the thing.

“Just take my hand,” Kaeya adds. “Let’s go home.”

And slowly, finally, Diluc does.

Chapter Text

Kaeya wakes with a gasp. Trying to get his bearings, he stumbles back, almost tripping over something soft in the process.

Oh. The couch. The cathedral. Right.

As he catches his breath, he hears a sharp inhale from across the room.

Then a cough.

And then another, and he rushes over to the bed just in time to watch Diluc roll over and spatter blood all over the white sheets, hacking painfully and struggling to breathe.

“Barbara,” Kaeya calls. Then louder. “BARBARA!”

Almost immediately he hears the sound of doors banging, and several sets of hurried footsteps across the tile.

Barbara throws the door open, harried-looking, one pigtail askew. “Captain, what’s going-“ she starts to ask before her eyes widen, catching on Diluc and his newly tie-dyed sheets. She immediately rushes over, shouting out for a few other nuns as she grasps his shoulders firmly and her vision starts to glow blue.

As people start to rush into the room, Kaeya retreats into the corner, keeping himself quiet and out of the way. He watches Barbara work, and despite the stress of the whole situation, can’t help but be comforted by her poise as she alternates between concentrating intensely on her work and confidently directing her colleagues. Baby Barbara. She’s grown a lot.

After what feels like hours, Barbara’s shoulders fall, as she sighs and her vision dims.

“I don’t know what you did,” she says. She turns to Kaeya, relief written plainly all across her face.

“But I think it saved him.”

—

Kaeya finally convinces Barbara to leave, promising to call her for any update at all. He sinks into the couch, and almost falls asleep, wallowing in pleasant half awakeness until-

“Kae,” says Diluc.

“Hey, no, no,” Kaeya says, yawning, before hurrying over to Diluc’s bedside to try and push him back into the pillows. “Hey, stay down.”

Diluc is clearly not a hundred percent there because he falls back easily, looking up at Kaeya with his eyes bleary and unfocused.

“Get some rest, for once in your life, okay?” Kaeya says.

Thinking that will be the end of it, he goes to draw back, when he suddenly feels Diluc’s hand on his wrist. He looks back questioningly.

“I just gotta tell- I gotta say,” Diluc says, stumbling over the words.

Kaeya sighs, exasperated. “What?”

“Just. Just that-“ he blinks, struggling to remember what it was he wanted to say. “If,” he says. “If you want me to leave. I’ll leave, okay? You just- you just gotta ask.”

”What? No, Diluc, why would I- what?” Kaeya responds, confused.

“If you don’t want me- around,” Diluc says. He furrows his brow, struggling to prop himself up on his elbow, and looks intensely into Kaeya’s face. He’s painfully open, in a way that he’d never usually be.

“And if you ask me- to stay. I won’t go,” he says. Then his elbow fails him and he drops back to the bed. Undeterred, he mumbles, “I promise. Okay?”

“Diluc, what?” Kaeya says, flabbergasted.

But with that, Diluc’s strength seems to leave him. He releases Kaeya’s arm, his eyelids fluttering, fighting his attempts to stay awake.

“Luc, I- Diluc?”

But he’s already fallen asleep.

—

Diluc is confined to the cathedral for a few days of rest, which, as soon as he’s coherent enough to understand, he protests vehemently.

“I’m perfectly fine, Kaeya, and I’ve already missed one business meeting, and-“

“Lie down before I kick your ass just to knock you back out again,” Kaeya says, praying to Barbatos for patience.

By some act of Celestia they manage to keep Diluc in bed for the allotted time, and, as soon as he’s given a clean bill of health by the deaconess, Elzer returns to escort him to the winery. Barbara gives him a list of instructions for rest and recovery which he promptly ignores, refusing to fall any further behind on his work. Still, Adelinde promises to keep an eye on him, which soothes Barbara enough to let him go.

Returning to the winery is a relief. Diluc wonders if Dawn has missed him.

—

It’s not until a few days later, while Kaeya is almost falling asleep, that it clicks.

“Oh my gods,” he says aloud to the ceiling.

Voices overlap in his head- Too late. We regret to hear of your illness. Dragonspine. One way or another. You’re really going to do this? Please, help.

If you want me to leave.

He suddenly feels like he’s going to vomit. He stumbles out of bed, swaying dizzily as his uncovered eye adjusts to the darkness. He didn’t- he wouldn’t, right?

But the more he thinks about it, the less certain he is. A memory pops into his head- a few days before Diluc’s collapse, at the tavern. Kaeya had had a bad day, and was indulging in his favorite coping mechanism of drinking too much and taking everything out on Diluc, as per usual, and it was so odd, the way Diluc was just- blank. Wouldn’t respond to anything.

Empty-eyed. So tired.

But would he- would he?

—

It’s late at night when Diluc hears the knock on his office door.

“Yes?” he calls.

“It’s Adelinde. Sir Kaeya is here to speak to you.”

Huh. He knows Kaeya’s sleeping habits are somewhat inconsistent, but he was fairly certain Kaeya had planned for an early night in today. He starts running through scenarios in his mind. An emergency mission? Is he injured? Has something happened to his apartment?

“Please, come in,” Diluc responds.

He busies himself with tidying his desk, as he waits to hear the creak of the door. Adelinde doesn’t stay, instead leaving Kaeya to awkwardly pull out a stool from one side of the room and sit down silently.

“Is there something you need?” Diluc asks neutrally.

There’s no response.

He looks up from the papers he’s stacking. Kaeya is staring at him oddly, like he has something to say, but doesn’t know how to say it.

“Kaeya,” he says, softer. “Is everything okay?”

“Diluc,” he says. Then doesn’t add anything else.

“Kaeya, you’re worrying me,” Diluc says.

Kaeya laughs jarringly at that, short and harsh. “I’m worrying you?”

He shakes his head. Looks at the ground.

“Dragonspine,” he says. “If I hadn’t been- Right in front of your brother. What were… if I hadn’t been there, what were you going to do?”

He looks back at Diluc.

Diluc looks caught off guard. His eyes are blown wide, his face frozen, his hands paused halfway through writing something. “I-“ he starts.

He puts the pen down. Kaeya watches him break eye contact, look to the side. Let out a controlled breath.

“There was- another way. Out. And, um. It just wouldn’t.. it wouldn’t have been. Ideal.”

“It wouldn’t have been ideal,” Kaeya repeats.

“I- listen. Don’t worry about that, okay? It was just- I wasn’t thinking. I was being stupid,” he adds.

“You were being stupid,” Kaeya says flatly.

Diluc sighs, rubbing his eyes before looking up to fix Kaeya with a tired stare.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I don’t want you to say anything,” Kaeya says angrily. Diluc is so fucking frustrating, sitting there like they don’t both know exactly what’s going on. “I just want to know what the hell is going on with you. So you don’t up and die on me without giving me a single hint of warning!”

Diluc pauses. “I’m sorry to have worried you,” he says evenly. “It won’t happen again.”

“You’re sorry to have- UGH!” Kaeya shouts.

He hates this. The way Diluc always says the right thing, acts the right way, feels the right feelings, even when they’re talking about the kind of shit that normal people cry over, he’s just so- he doesn’t know how to deal with this. He slams his feet to the ground, standing to face the dark wooden cabinets, not willing to look at Diluc’s impassive face.

“You were dying! And you knew! And you couldn’t take one goddamn second out of your day to tell me!” he shouts. He spins to look back at Diluc again, pretending not to notice the way his vision is blurring.

“You can’t just- do something like that! I am your fucking brother!”

Diluc watches Kaeya’s outburst silently, at a loss for words.

Kaeya grits his teeth. Looks to the ceiling. “I’m. I just- do you even realize? What that does to people?”

“I’m sorry.”

Kaeya snaps his head back to look at Diluc. Surprisingly, impossibly, he can tell that Diluc is being honest.

“Seriously, Kaeya. I’m-“ he sighs. Seeming overwhelmed by some unidentified emotion, he rests his head in his hands, elbows on his desk, fingers digging into his hair.

“I don’t know. I thought I was doing the right thing,” he says softly.

All the anger drains out of Kaeya. He clenches his fists, unclenches again, trying to shake off the adrenaline he’s been feeling since that realization in his apartment.

“Luc,” he says. Then shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry too. You’re still recovering and I shouldn’t- I just needed to,” he hesitates, trying to figure out what he needs to say. “You just- You scared me, Diluc.”

There’s a long, uncomfortable silence.

“Thank you. For coming to get me,” Diluc says.

“Just- don’t do that again.”

“No. I won’t,” Diluc says, seriously. He thinks for a second, before adding, “I don’t know what was going on. I wasn’t thinking straight. I think something was wrong.”

Kaeya fixes him with an incredulous look.

“You think? Maybe?”

Diluc flushes. “You know what I mean, like my thinking process-“

“Breaking news. Diluc Ragnvindr, after collapsing on the floor of his office, slowly dying for three days, and then coughing out half his internal organs, suggests: I think something was wrong.”

“Archons, Kaeya, that’s not what I mean,” Diluc complains, but he cracks a small smile and Kaeya snorts and they both look at each other, and it’s nice.

It feels like home.

—

Later that night, Diluc dons his coat and silently leaves the winery. Under the cover of night, he makes his way to Stormbearer Point.

When he arrives, he stops for a moment, watching the dark sea rise and fall, doggedly continuing its endless fight against the rocks. There will be a night in the future when this cliff will wear away, foundations eaten through by millennia of erosion. But, luckily for Diluc, tonight is not that night.

Diluc draws a little bottle from his coat, feeling the way it rattles in his hand. He winds back, holding his breath for a second before releasing as hard as he can towards the ocean, watching as the small container is swallowed silently by the roiling waves.

If he wanted to repurchase that particular substance, it would be laughably easy, given his contacts in the information network, not to mention his well established identity as a vigilante and the significant sum of money he has access to.

But it’s a symbolic thing. A promise. He’d never really planned to use it, but for a long time, just having that little bottle has been a comfort. A last resort, a way out. But he won’t make himself a liar, after that last conversation with Kaeya, and this was a reminder. Not to do something stupid. Selfish. If it’s for Kaeya, he will keep trying.

For now?

It’s enough.

He spares one last glance at the endless sea, noticing the beginnings of the pink light of dawn glowing behind the clouds, reflecting far away on the water.

Then he turns and heads home.