Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kaeya really, truly hoped this day would never come.

He fooled himself into thinking it wouldn’t for four whole years, but now here he is, faced with the same choice he’s faced since he was a child, that he wanted to never have to make at all.

…He supposes there’s no point complaining about what he did or didn’t want, by now. Fate hardly cares about things like that.

It’s for the best, the way he’s decided to play things. Making himself the lynchpin of Khaenri’ah’s plans, exposing his own lies for all of Mondstadt to see, setting himself up to be destroyed by whoever has the most righteous anger in their eyes when they come to face him…

It’s for the best.

Loyalty and duty, truth and happiness…Kaeya truly could never have them all, but he thought he would be left with something, at the end, instead of stripped of everything he ever wished for.

He betrayed his comrades in the knights for the chance to save them, and by doing so he is abandoning his duty as a spy, utterly ruining the plans that have been in motion for centuries. He cannot have happiness, and even still, the truth of who he is will be concealed forever; the people of Mondstadt will see him as a liar until the day his name fades from their memory completely.

It’s for the best. Maybe if he keeps telling himself that, he’ll start to believe it.

The domain he’s chosen as his final resting place is a labyrinthine one, all twisting corridors and intricate puzzles, so even when the Knights eventually come for him, he’ll have plenty of time to himself as he watches the false, golden stars glittering away in the deep purple sky.

…He used to have dreams about this day, when he was younger. When he was still living in the Ragnvindr manor and getting used to his new life.

At first his nightmares were nothing like this. They were simply remnants of what he had seen at Khaenri’ah, mixed with his father leaving him in the rain again and again and again.

As time passed, as he grew older and closer to his new family, the dreams changed. It was no longer his birth father leaving him behind. Rather, Master Crepus was the one walking away from him, vanishing into the storm. It was Kaeya searching for Diluc, and being unable to find him in a manor that twisted and turned, morphed itself into an unconquerable maze, leaving him helpless and alone.

…But the worst ones, the ones he remembers with vivid clarity, were the dreams where his birth father returned to take him away.

Sometimes it was simple. Diluc would be calling for him, only for Kaeya to cross the road to stand by his birth father’s side, and watch his brother’s expression break. His birth father would knock on the open door of Dawn Winery, and take him far, far away, as Kaeya turned back to watch his home collapse in on itself from afar.

Sometimes it was simple.

But most of the time, it was much, much worse.

Most of the time, it was in the middle of some battle Kaeya couldn’t pinpoint the start of, even though he knew with absolute certainty who it was that was fighting. It was Diluc finding him and helping him to his feet, checking him for wounds with that worried look to his face—

It was his father, approaching from the distance and calling for Kaeya to join him.

And Diluc would always let out a defiant little laugh, saying something about how Kaeya would never join him—he would never, Kaeya was his brother and his family now, and his birth father couldn’t have him. We’re in this together, right, Kaeya?

…And then Diluc would gasp.

He would look down slowly at the knife Kaeya had driven into his stomach, staring at it with wide eyes like he’d never seen his own blood before. Would look up at Kaeya with heartbroken confusion across his face.

He didn’t understand. No matter how many times he dreamt it, Diluc never understood.

Even as Kaeya wrenched the knife out of him with a cruel twisting motion and Diluc let out a pained cry, curling in on himself and pressing his hands against the wound, he never looked like he understood, just confused and lost and unmistakably hurt.

And his birth father would praise him as he approached, as he set a gentle hand on Diluc’s head. You’ve done well, he would say.

But all Kaeya was ever able to see was the terrified expression on his brother’s face. A bone-deep terror that Kaeya felt just as fiercely, as his birth father grabbed a fistful of Diluc’s hair and dragged a blade across his throat.

—and Kaeya would wake up screaming, that terror digging its claws into him. Clutching at the sheets, sobbing, heart thundering in his chest.

And of course—of course—the good brother that he was, Diluc would always come in to check on him, none the wiser, fully intent on soothing him back to sleep.

Hey, hey—you’re okay, you’re okay, I promise. You’re safe now, it was just a dream. You’re safe now, okay? I’m not going to hurt you.

You should, Kaeya wanted to scream, pressing his hands against his mouth so as not to be sick. You would if you knew what was good for you.

But Diluc didn’t, did he? He never did. He never knew, never understood, in any of those dreams, just what a terrible brother, what a terrible rotten liar Kaeya truly was. Diluc always looked at him like he thought he had done something wrong, like it was his fault that his brother was doing this to him.

Kaeya vowed to himself, back then, that if—when—the day came that he revealed his terrible secret, he would not hurt his brother in such a way. He would not permit Diluc to cry, to look at him wide-eyed in confusion and despair, to second-guess himself and try to pick the love from the lies.

Diluc had to know for certain that what they had was one or the other.

And, well…by revealing a lie, Kaeya would already be locking himself into one of those two choices, wouldn’t he? By revealing a lie, by revealing a lifetime of continuous lies, he would be forbidding himself from ever saying the words I love you to his brother ever again.

Coward that he was, he couldn’t stomach the thought. Not until the guilt of his life of lies caught up with him in the worst possible way and threatened to swallow him whole.

Then, at last, he flayed himself bare before the waiting knife of his brother’s rage, rotten heart exposed for all to see. Bathed in the glow of firelight, at last his true self, with nothing to hide.

…But, well. What’s that they say about the best laid plans?

Kaeya knows his brother did not walk away from that fight with no regrets. He can only hope that after his recent betrayal, those regrets have since washed away and left him with naught but the will to do what needs to be done.

Footsteps reach his attention, slow and deliberate as they make their way up the stairs to the top of the domain.

…Kaeya really thought it would take longer for someone to reach him.

Alas, he supposes the time for waiting and reminiscing is over. What a shame. Perhaps he should have imagined something more pleasant, before the end. Ah, what he wouldn’t give for a glass of dandelion wine, right now.

He opens his eye and half-turns to see who it is that’s to be his demise…

Ah. Of course. Who else would it be?

He would be lying if he said he was disappointed. The only other person he might actually enjoy being struck down by might be the Traveler, though he would feel a bit bad for making them do it.

This fight can only end one way, so he supposes it’s fitting to have his brother finish what he started, all those years ago.

“I’m disappointed,” he says, fully turning to watch as Diluc crests the top of the stairs to meet him. “I had hoped whoever it was that came to face me would at least take their time. Did you even stop to admire the scenery I so lovingly crafted?”

His brother crosses the threshold to join him beneath the tall, ruined dome-like structure that marks the pinnacle of the domain.

“And what scenery would that be, exactly?” he says flatly. “We both know you didn’t make this place. You just chose it because it suits you.”

Kaeya smiles. “Really? Suits me in what way?” …Incredibly beautiful and elaborate with something ruined and crumbling at its center? There’s definitely a blatantly obvious metaphor in there, somewhere.

Diluc sighs. “…Keeps people out.”

“Ah,” Kaeya breathes. “Apt, but a bit lacking. I might’ve gone with strikingly beautiful, perhaps, or maybe exquisitely intricate.” He allows himself a sharp smile. “…Deceptively deadly, even.”

Diluc does not rise to the bait. He does not launch into a speech that starts with how could you or I always knew this day would come. He doesn’t even draw his blade to get on with things. He just stands there, watching him.

Kaeya lets out a dramatic sigh to hide the anxiety twisting in his gut.

“Don’t tell me you snuck ahead of everyone else so you could try and convince me to see reason,” he says dryly.

“…Would it do any good, if I did?”

“Not particularly.” Kaeya grins. “But I won’t stop you if you want to try. Watching you grovel actually sounds quite entertaining.”

“I thought as much,” Diluc mutters, finally manifesting his blade. He plants it in the ground in front of him and grips the hilt with both hands, the spitting image of those paintings of knights they used to admire as children. “…There’s no point trying to convince you, is there? You’ve made up your mind.”

“My mind’s been made up from the beginning,” he lies. “It’s almost sad that it’s taken you this long to see it.”

“Is that what you’re going with?” Diluc says tiredly, looking him in the eye. “We were never brothers at all? It was all a lie?”

“Of course,” Kaeya lies with a shrug and a smile, something festering in his heart.

Here at the end, some stupid, childish part of him has bubbled up to the surface, aching and begging and pleading for nothing more than the comfort he was allowed as a child. Wants nothing more than to be held and reassured by his brother, to be allowed to close his eyes and pretend, for a moment, that nothing terrible has ever passed between them.

Another part of him, bitter and cruel and born from the same selfish love as the first, wants his brother to cry when he kills him. Wants this to hurt, wants Diluc to weep after all is said and done. Wants to be mourned, wants to be remembered as something more than what he really is.

But, well. For that to happen, Diluc would have to love him, wouldn’t he? The very fact that he’s standing here before him now, ready to fight, means Kaeya is naught but a traitor and a liar in his eyes.

There's no time to change his mind, and even if there was, he supposes there would be little point in trying. For any of this to work, Diluc has to cut him down without remorse, he reminds himself. Trying to sway him would defeat the whole point.

So, instead, Kaeya crushes that selfish want back down where it belongs, drawing his sword and spinning it in his hand with a dramatic flourish.

He’s already come this far; there’s no turning back now. Might as well dig that knife a little deeper.

“Come now, you didn’t really think I loved you, did you?” He shakes his head with a laugh. “You really were such a foolish child, to trust me.”

He meets his gaze with a confident smirk on his face. “…And it seems you’ve done nothing in all these years but grow into an equally foolish adult, if you really think you can defeat me.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Diluc says evenly.

“Do you, indeed,” Kaeya hums, shifting on his feet. “Let’s see if you live up to your words, Ragnvindr.”

It’s a cheap move, to strike at him before Diluc is ready to begin, a dirty tactic utterly separate from the honor and chivalry they were taught as knights.

But knowing his brother, he’s been on edge this entire time, waiting for such tricks from him. He’ll swing his sword up and parry the blow with ease, and then Kaeya will finally get to see firsthand the fighting prowess his brother has developed over the years. That brilliant blaze of glory will at last envelop him like it should have done years ago, burning away the sin that makes up his very being and leaving nothing behind. The punishment that liars deserve.

He’ll swing his sword up and—

Oh.

Oh no.

Kaeya realizes, in that split second as he lunges towards him, ages too late, that Diluc only ever plants his blade in front of himself like that if he no longer plans to use it.

The greatsword dematerializes and Diluc’s hands fall away but Kaeya is still moving—

…And it’s laughable, really, just how much like those old dreams it is. Just how easily his blade buries itself in his brother’s stomach.

Diluc gasps, curling inward from the force of the blow, hand loosely grasping the guard of his blade. He stares down at where it’s pierced him, eyes wide, looking at it like even after all these years, he still doesn’t know what to do with the sight of his own blood.

A moment, and then he closes his eyes in pained resignation.

“Alright,” he whispers, as if this situation is anything even close to resembling being alright. “…Okay.”

He groans, slowly slumping forward and clutching at the front of Kaeya’s shirt. His proximity is the only thing that allows him to hear the whispered words that pass from his lips.

“…Do you feel better, now?”

Better.

Better.

Kaeya can hardly recognize the word through the layer of shock encompassing his entire being. It’s all he can do to stare over his brother’s shoulder at where his sword is jutting out of his back. Blood slowly trails down along its edge.

His brother’s blood. The same blood that is on his hands.

He’s just stabbed his brother.

Do you feel better now?

What—what is that supposed to mean, in what world would he feel—

Diluc did this on purpose. Diluc let him do this. Why—why—

“Why?” Kaeya gasps, finally tearing his gaze away from the end of his blade to look his brother in the eye. “What—what have you—why?”

“You of all people should know,” Diluc says very gently, resting his hand over the one that is still holding his blade, “…the same trick won’t work on the same person twice.”

Distantly, a part of Kaeya’s mind tells him that he should have expected this. He should have expected Diluc to see through his charade, having seen the exact same act once before.

But he can’t accept this. He can’t accept his brother’s defeated posture, the blood on his hands—

“No,” he says, shaking his head in protest as if that will change anything. “No, this—this isn’t real. This can’t be real.” A half-hysteric laugh escapes him. “This is—I’m dreaming. I’m just dreaming, I just need to wake up—”

Wake up, wake up, wake up—if he can just wake up, none of this will have happened. None of this will have happened and everything will be fine and his brother will be fine and alive and not bleeding out because he—

“Kaeya.”

…

It’s real, isn’t it? It’s all real.

This miserable hell world where every good thing he’s ever had is stripped from him because of his own actions. His friends, his home, his reputation, his brother—

It’s too cruel to be anything but the truth.

He’s not sure whose legs give out first, but the two of them collapse together, falling to their knees on the dark stonework below. His hand remains frozen in place, the hilt of his sword stuck in his white-knuckled grip.

“No,” he says weakly. 

Tears well up in his eye as he watches blood bloom outwards from where his blade is embedded in Diluc’s abdomen, slowly darkening the fabric of his brother’s shirt, all while Kaeya’s spare hand hovers uselessly around the wound, seemingly having forgotten what to do.

“No—please—”

“Kaeya…”

“You are so stupid!” he shouts, voice shaking as he grabs the collar of his brother’s coat. “You—you idiot, you weren’t supposed to—this wasn’t supposed to happen! It wasn’t—why—why would you do this to me?”

Diluc lets out a tired sigh. “What did you expect me to do?”

“I don’t know, block?!” Kaeya looks up at him, incredulity and fury mingling in his chest. “Or—dodge, perhaps?”

“You know I’ve never been the most nimble of fighters,” Diluc murmurs.

“Did you suddenly forget how to fight, or something? I gave you an easy opening and you fucking threw it away for—for this. What happened to you?”

“Maybe I just didn’t want to take it.”

A sob escapes him and he grits his teeth. Shakes his head.

“It wasn’t supposed to go like this,” he insists. “You were supposed to fight back. You were supposed to—”

“Kill you?” Diluc stares at him.

Anger tangles with grief in his chest.

“It was supposed to be you,” Kaeya says, voice straining. “Why couldn’t you just finish what you started? You could’ve—could’ve given me a half-dignified death and then just walked away. Why—why would you—”

“I already told you why,” he says. “The same trick won’t work twice. I know you too well to fall for it again.”

Another sob falls past his lips. Diluc’s hand comes up to cradle his cheek, brushing away the stray tears he hadn’t even noticed had begun to fall.

“We were never brothers, I never loved you…” he sighs. “Who did you think you were fooling, Kaeya?”

Kaeya says nothing, just closes his eye and leans into his brother’s hand.

“I can’t make this choice for you, Kaeya. I won’t. I won’t be the easy way out that you want me to be. Not…” he grimaces in pain. “…not this time.”

“You bastard,” he whispers hoarsely. “How could you do this to me? How could you just leave me with this?”

“I’m sorry,” Diluc breathes. “…This part…this was my choice to make. I won’t kill you. They can’t make me. They can’t—” His voice breaks and he leans forward, burying his face against his shoulder. “They can’t make me kill my only family.”

Kaeya lets out a helpless laugh, tears flowing freely down his face. “No, you’ll—you’ll leave that to me, will you? How very kind.”

“…you have other family.”

“Where?” The vehemence of the question makes his chest hurt. “Where? In the father who left me for fourteen years? In the people who only ever saw me as a means to an end?”

His weak laughter dissolves into quiet sobs as he buries his face in his brother’s hair.

“You’re all I have left,” he says helplessly. “You’re all I have left, you can’t—you can’t leave me, too. Please. Please don’t leave me again. I’m begging you. Not again.”

Diluc wraps his arms around him as tightly as he can, and Kaeya brings his spare hand up to cradle the back of his head and pull him close.

“I’m sorry,” Diluc whispers, as a spot of warmth blooms against his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I don’t—I don’t want to leave you all alone. But I won’t—I won’t kill you.” He lets out a strangled laugh. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. I’d…I’d join you in seconds. You know that.”

Kaeya laughs, for lack of anything else to do. The image of Diluc standing over his corpse, picking up his abandoned blade and driving it through his chest—

It’s ridiculous. It’s horrible. It was always going to be this way. He should have known.

He should have known that asking his brother to kill him would mean robbing the world of them both. He should have known his brother would never be able to do what he was asking of him, not after failing that night and realizing—realizing—

“I love you, Kaeya.”

Kaeya sniffles, pulls his brother closer oh-so-carefully—keeping his hand on his sword, don’t let go, if he leaves it in they’ll have a little more time—and presses a kiss into his hair.

“I love you,” he whispers for the first time in years. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Kaeya keeps him in his arms for a long while, listening to his breathing become more and more labored as the minutes pass.

At long last—he hears shouting down below. A rush of footsteps. The clatter of weaponry.

He stiffens, broken out of the spell. He got so caught up in all of this he almost forgot Diluc isn’t part of the Knights at all. He probably did sneak ahead of them, didn’t he? By this point, enough time has passed that everyone else has triumphed over his domain, and now they are coming to seek their revenge.

But—he can’t let them see him like this. He can’t let anyone see him like this. If Diluc won’t kill him, how is he supposed to convince his former comrades to, if the first thing they see when they reach him is the pitiful sight of Kaeya cradling his brother in his arms and crying into his hair? He can’t, but—there’s no time—

“You can…use this,” Diluc mumbles, his breaths coming raggedly now.

Kaeya’s heart hammers in his chest as the footsteps draw nearer. “What?”

Diluc’s hands curl into the back of his shirt, his grip weak but nonetheless determined.

“Take up your sword,” he whispers. “Cast me aside—”

“No—”

“Stand over my body—”

“No—”

“Give some speech about…about how foolish I was for thinking I could beat you.” He lets out a weak laugh. “You’re good with your words, Kae. Always have been. If you…if you spin it right…they might just believe you. They might fall for it. And maybe…maybe one of them can give you the end that you wanted from me.”

“No,” he breathes, shaking his head in horror. “No. No—”

If he lets go—if he lets go, if he casts him aside…Diluc will die. Without his sword where it is, slowing the rush of blood that would surely come flooding out of him the second it’s removed…he will bleed out in moments. And Kaeya will have to watch, will have to gather himself up and pretend to be utterly unaffected.

He can’t. He can’t do that.

It’s not even just a matter of not wanting to, it’s…he knows he’s not capable of it.

But he has to, doesn’t he? He has to be strong, he has to face whoever comes to strike him down with a confident smirk on his face or else they won’t do it, won’t finish him off, and he’ll be stuck here in a hell of his own making, his brother’s blood permanently stained onto his hands.

He has to. He can’t.

The footsteps are closer, now. Kaeya’s rotten heart thunders in his chest as he sits there, paralyzed by indecision.

“Last chance,” Diluc murmurs, his voice dangerously faint.

He can’t. He can’t do it.

He doesn’t want Diluc to die. He’s always known that, hasn’t he?

If nothing else…if nothing else, here at the end, let it be known that he chose a few precious moments more with his brother, rather than saving what little dignity he has left.

Kaeya lets out a choked sob and buries his face in his brother’s hair, clutching him closer. He doesn’t want to look. He doesn’t want to see the looks on their faces when they make it to him and see—

“…Kaeya?”

Shame and grief wash over him like a wave at the knowledge that he’s being watched, being seen and perceived by those he hoped would never come to witness this. It’s all he can do to clutch his brother tighter and try to ignore it, try to pretend that no one’s here at all—

Except…wait. He knows that voice.

He knows that voice, and more importantly, he knows what that voice can do.

So he looks up slowly, face wet with tears, and meets the gaze of the lone figure standing at the threshold, framed between the stone arches like she was always meant to be there.

If he wasn’t already crying, just the sight of her would send him to tears.

“Jean,” he chokes out. “Help.”

She crosses the distance between them in seconds.

“I didn’t—I didn’t mean to,” he manages as she approaches. “It was an accident. Please—”

He watches her stare at him with open horror on her face, before she closes her eyes and takes a deep, steadying breath.

When she opens them, there is naught but steel in her expression.

“On one condition,” she says sternly.

Kaeya stares at her, confusion and terror building in his chest.

What—doesn’t she want to save him? Isn’t Diluc her friend, too? Doesn’t she care about him, too?

His eye drifts to her drawn sword and he understands. For Mondstadt, always. In this moment, Jean still sees him as a threat, doesn’t she? Sacrificing two of her childhood friends is surely a small price to pay for Mondstadt’s safety.

He looks back down at his brother in his arms—at his closed eyes, his ashen complexion, the way his face is twisted in pain. Listens to the weak and shallow shuddering of his breath, feels his hands slowly losing the fiercely-tight grip that Diluc held him with but moments before.

…Kaeya is in no position to argue, no matter what her demands are.

He presses his forehead to his brother’s own and closes his eye.

“Anything,” he says hollowly. “I’ll do anything, please—”

That familiar rush of a healing breeze surrounds him as Jean kneels by his side. He tries to steel himself against the thought of his punishment.

A lifetime of imprisonment, maybe? No, he supposes the City of Freedom doesn’t do things like that. Banishment seems too kind a fate for a traitor like him. A public execution, perhaps. Or maybe the people would prefer to see him humiliated first.

He’ll do it. He’ll endure it all if it means his brother is alive and well and—

“Never,” Jean cuts through his spiraling thoughts with a hand on his shoulder, “ever do this again.”

Kaeya opens his eye. Stares down at his brother’s form, his face slowly regaining color. Tries to comprehend the order she’s given him.

“…What?”

When he turns to her, there are tears shining in her eye.

“What?”

“Kaeya,” she breathes, voice breaking, “did you really think we would hate you for this? That—that I would hate you for this?”

He doesn’t understand.

He doesn’t understand—he’s a traitor! A liar! A deceiver, a deserter, a goddamn spy. By all accounts, Jean should have ignored his request and cut him down without mercy. Surely—it’s only the grace of her kind heart and her fondness for his brother that she stayed her hand?

“What are you saying?” he says at last, voice wavering. “I’m—what are you doing? What happened to for Mondstadt, always? Aren’t you going to—aren’t you going to kill me?”

“No,” she says, horrified. “No—I…”

Jean lets out a heavy sigh that’s mirrored by the gently billowing breeze encompassing them.

“You so badly want to play the villain here, don’t you? Even when you’re looking out for us. Even when you’re trying to save us.” She shakes her head. “Diluc…told me. That this is what you told him, all those years ago. That you tried the same thing, back then.”

Kaeya stares at her, stares at the soft fondness in her face, uncomprehending.

“You made yourself out to be this grand villain because you were scared we might do it to you first, but…” Jean reaches out and cups his face in her hand. “Don't you understand? You have people who love you, Kaeya. People who are willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, who are willing to believe you and who will stand with you no matter what.” She smiles through the dampness shining in her eyes. “For Mondstadt, always…that includes you. That’s always included you.”

Tears fall from his eye, unbidden, and then he’s crying as Jean wraps her arms around him, holds him and reassures him gently.

“We’re with you,” she whispers, brushing his tears away. “We’re with you, no matter what.”

He nods at her, some incomprehensible utterly warm feeling growing in his chest. He doesn't quite understand it, but if Jean says she wants to stand with him, who is he to argue?

If she says things are going to be okay, then…things are going to be okay. They’re going to be okay, things are going to be just fine—

“This is very touching,” Diluc rasps, “but can we take the oversized knife out of my abdomen, please?”

“Shit—” Jean says, pulling away quickly. “Diluc, I’m so sorry—”

“It’s fine. I’d just prefer not to be bleeding out all over my brother, if at all possible.”

Brother. Brother. Brother. That warm feeling grows and bubbles up out of him and then Kaeya is laughing, despite it all, despite everything, despite the tears flowing down his face.

And it feels wrong—it feels wrong to laugh and smile genuinely, to be happy in the face of the terrible things to come, in the face of all that he’s done, in the face of the future and the fact that he has no idea what he’s going to do…

But his brother is smiling at him. Jean is laughing with him.

So really, it can’t be too much of a sin, can it?

“Together,” he murmurs, looking his brother in the eye.

Diluc smiles. Places his hand over Kaeya’s. Jean positions hers against Diluc's back and nods.

“Together. No matter what.”

It’s fascinating; it’s unfathomable, that in that moment, even as Kaeya pulls his blade out of his brother’s stomach, he thinks that things will turn out okay.

…And if they don’t, well. He’ll have his brother by his side, at the end of all things. He can’t think of anything much more important than that.

Chapter Text

Kaeya awakes from a dream with tears in his eye.

He lies there awake for a long while, staring up at the ceiling bathed in moonlight, processing what his mind has spun for him. Eventually he closes his eye and lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand down his face.

So that’s how it’s going to be, huh. He should have known that his dreams would shift to accommodate everything that’s happened. Everything that’s changed.

He remains in bed for a few moments more before making up his mind. He swings his legs over the side and gets to his feet.

It hasn’t quite been the terrible, apocalyptic, world-ending sort of change that he had initially expected, sure, but things have changed nonetheless.

Because who is he, really, without that lie settled like a stone in the center of his soul? Who is he, now that he doesn’t have that sword dangling over his head? Does he just…keep up the pretense he had before, of being someone who lies and says outlandish things just for the sake of saying them?

He doesn’t know, yet. He hasn’t decided.

He opens the door and leaves his room behind, slowly heading down the hall as his mind begins to wander, mulling over recent events.

Namely, the fact that apparently more than half of Mondstadt wasn’t fooled by his charade at all.

The moment he stepped back into the Knights of Favonius headquarters after everything was said and done, he was bombarded by…friends. People who were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. People who believed him, and were willing to stand with him despite everything.

Klee, of course, was happy to see him, as was Jean. The Honorary Knight had tackled him in a bone-crushing embrace. Lisa had given him a soft, knowing smile, and though Albedo had said little to him, there was an understanding look in his eye.

Varka had slapped him on the back with more force than was probably strictly necessary, telling him how good it was to have him back.

Kaeya still isn’t entirely sure if that means he gets to keep his old job in the Knights, after everything. There were definitely enough vocal complaints from those he had injured in his betrayal to warrant a demotion, at best.

…But, even among those who were caught up in his dramatic display of loyalties, there were those who were happy to see him.

Amber had hugged him with a face full of tears—which she desperately tried to scrub away the moment he pointed them out.

I just couldn’t believe it, she had said in the face of his teasing. You’re always sneaking around and doing stuff behind the scenes, so for you to put yourself front and center like that…I just knew there had to be something else going on!

Eula had given him a scathing look that he knew meant she was glad to see him. Did you really think you could fool me so easily? After your own previous insistence that I not bend beneath the weight of my family’s influence? Hmph. I will not stand for such impertinence. I will have my vengeance.

Even outside of the knights, there were a frankly startling number of people who seemed resolutely convinced of his innocence.

As she took Diluc from his arms and lead him away into the cathedral, Barbara had paused, with a tearful smile, to tell him she was glad he was alright.

Rosaria had slung an arm around his shoulders and knocked her head into his, and told him he was an idiot who owed her a round of drinks as recompense for what he’d done. For making her worry, she didn’t say, but Kaeya valued his life too much to try and tease her about it.

Vile had just shrugged when he asked her about it. Can’t say I’m too surprised. That sort of plan is exactly what you’d do. But try to keep that to a minimum, next time? I quite like getting paid, and you’re my best customer.

The kids at the Adventurers’ Guild had brightened the moment they saw him, waving him over.

I knew it! Bennett said. See, Kaeya always knows what he’s doing. He knows everything; of course this was all just another plan of his. There’s no way he’d really turn against everyone like that.

Verily, Fischl replied primly, ‘tis fortunate our good errant knight hath made his return with haste. Elsewise, those accursed sowers of falsehood and discontent would find themselves beset upon by thundering retribution, as it is the Prinzessin’s noble duty to punish all those who speak ill against her retinue.

My lady means she is glad to see you are well. She was quite worried for your safety.

Oz!

Adelinde had shed tears when she saw him at the doors of the manor. Had taken him into her arms and wept into his shoulder, before pulling away and holding his face in her hands. I’m so glad you’re safe, Master Kaeya. Never do this again, I beg of you. I’m so glad you’re home.

Home.

He is home, isn’t he?

Kaeya pauses in front of a familiar door. There’s the briefest moment of hesitation before he opens it, slipping silently inside and closing it behind him.

Even here in the dark, he can vaguely make out the shape of the bed, and his brother’s sleeping form upon it. So, he makes his way over.

…Except, he misjudges exactly how far it is—and slams his knee into the bedpost.

He barely holds back a string of pained curses as his brother jolts awake.

“Kaeya?!”

“That’s me,” he bites out.

“…you alright?”

“Hit my knee.”

“Oh.”

Kaeya takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, allowing his pain to ebb away before carefully making his way over to the side of the bed. Diluc blinks up at him blearily.

“…’nother one?” he asks, voice rough from sleep.

“Yeah.”

“Alright,” he mumbles. He runs a hand over his face with a sigh. “…Okay.”

There’s a brief pause, and then Diluc shuffles backward towards the center of the bed, pulling back the blankets and opening his arms, gesturing for him to come in.

“…Roll over. I want to be the big spoon.”

Diluc obliges without complaint, letting out a soft grunt as he shifts. Kaeya slips in behind him, tugging the blankets back into place and settling in.

There’s a comfortable silence between them as they shift around to accommodate each other. Kaeya allows himself a moment to acclimate to his brother’s freakish warmth before wrapping his arms around him and tugging him close.

A beat, and then Kaeya slips a hand under Diluc’s shirt, as he has done so many times since Diluc was released from hospice. His brother tenses at the chill of his touch, but settles after a moment, allowing him to find the now-familiar scar where his own blade used to be.

“…Do you want to talk about it?”

Kaeya hums affirmative, absently tracing the shape of that scar, and Diluc says nothing, waiting patiently for him to begin.

“It was…about my birth father,” he says at last, the term sitting uneasily on his tongue. “He was…here.”

Diluc stiffens, clearly remembering enough about his old dreams to know that his birth father’s presence was never a particularly celebratory occurrence.

“Here? Doing what?”

“Nothing bad. He was just…talking with you,” Kaeya says quietly, a soft smile on his lips. “You were…chatting. Laughing. Getting along.”

He sighs, smile turning bitter as he rests his forehead against the back of his brother’s neck.

“…Then I woke up, and it was like, oh. Right.”

There’s a stretch of silence between them. Diluc rests his hand on top of Kaeya’s.

“…I’m sorry things turned out the way they did,” he says at last, voice heavy-laden with guilt.

“I’m not,” Kaeya says at once, reliving that scene now burned into his memory.

Struggling to help Diluc to his feet, spotting his birth father approach from afar—that heavy stone of dread that sank in his stomach—

Reaching for his bloodied blade the moment his birth father moved to lay a hand on his brother.

“I’m not sorry for choosing you,” he says, hugging him tighter. “And I’m not sorry for choosing Mondstadt.”

“But…?” Diluc prompts.

“But…” he sighs. “I guess I’m sorry that…things had to turn out that way. That it had to end like that. That…there was never any other choice for him.”

So that’s how it is, his birth father had said, looking down at the blade piercing him with weary understanding.

Kaeya pulled it from him in a mercifully swift motion.

You would abandon your duty, he whispered, looking past Kaeya's shoulder to where Jean and Diluc stood behind him, for him? For them?

For him, yes. For all of them.

He scoffed, wavering on his feet. How did they do it? How did they sway you? He fell to his knees, clutching his wound. What did they give you that was more important to you than your duty?

Love. Acceptance. Freedom, he had said, staring down at him with no remorse. And, because he felt particularly vindictive, a family.

Is that all it took? His birth father laughed, a hollow and bitter sound.  Our plan—ages in the making—thrown away for what? For your selfish happiness? Where is your sense of duty?

Perhaps if you decided to actually stick around, you could have taught me the sense of duty you wanted me to have, Kaeya said icily. He shook his head. You should have known this would happen. The moment you left me on their doorstep, you gave up any right you might have had to demand things from me. You have no one to blame but yourself.

Kaeya—my son—

You are not my father.

His birth father bowed his head, breathing heavily.

…This new home of yours…tell me…tell me what swayed you to stay.

Kaeya sighed and knelt, but did not reach out to touch him.

It’s a beautiful place, he began. Inside and out. There’s poetry and wine and singing in the streets. The people there are happy. Their purpose in life is what they make of it, not what other people want them to do. Their god makes no demands of them.

How strange. What else?

The grass is green and bright and there are dandelions swaying in the wind. Children run and play and tell stories and are allowed to be children as long as they’d like.

…Tell me more, he had said, closing his eye.

The people there are forgiving, he had said, voice catching. Accepting. Even now, even after everything I’ve done, there are those who will stand beside me with no regrets.

…That sounds lovely, Kaeya, his birth father said, voice faint. That all sounds lovely. You may have failed us, but at least…it sounds like you’re happy. My, what a wonderful dream…you’ve found for yourself…

“He was never going to change,” Kaeya murmurs at last. “He didn’t want to. He was happier clinging to his bitterness and anger. So…of course things had to end that way.”

“…having to kill your father is never an easy thing to do.”

“I wouldn’t know, would I?”

Diluc is silent for a long time.

“Will you miss him?”

“No more than I’ve missed him my entire life,” he says. He closes his eye with a soft sigh. “…I’ll miss who he could have been. What we could have had, if he were better. If he were an entirely different person.”

“…Yeah.”

…Kaeya knows that tone of his brother’s voice.

“It wasn’t your fault, what happened,” he says quietly. “It was my choice to make. I don’t regret it.”

“I know,” Diluc whispers. “And…I’m glad. That you don’t have second thoughts. I would hate for you to look at me and…and regret not choosing differently.”

“Never.”

They lie there in thoughtful silence for a while. Kaeya breaks it with a soft chuckle.

“What?”

“It’s just…funny. The choice I struggled to make for years was made so much easier when it was your life on the line,” he says, shaking his head. “Maybe you were the easy way out for me after all. Just not in the way I thought.”

Diluc hums. “Choices are easier to make when the consequences of your actions are right in front of you,” he muses. “…I’m proud of you, Kaeya.”

Kaeya huffs, a hint of humor seeping into his tone. “For killing my birth father?”

“For deciding. Or…for admitting to yourself that you decided,” he says softly. “You’ve done so much, I’m…I’m proud of you for everything.”

Something warm swells in his chest, and it has little to do with his brother’s proximity. He nestles in further, and silence descends once more.

Diluc’s breathing slowly evens out. Kaeya lets out a quiet sigh, at last pulling his hand away from his brother’s scar and settling his arm across his middle.

“…I don’t know what to do, now,” he admits, barely above a breath. “Without it. Without…him. I don’t even know who I am.”

“You do whatever you want,” his brother mumbles, inexplicably still awake. “You’ve held onto this for so long, but you can let go, now. You can be happy. You can…you can be whoever you want.”

“…I don’t know who I want to be,” he says quietly. “There are too many options. I don’t know where to start."

“You can start right here,” Diluc murmurs, rolling over to look him in the eye. He reaches out to brush a hand across his face. “You’re my brother, and I love you. There. That’s a start.”

“Yeah,” Kaeya says weakly, tears springing to his eye. “I think I can work with that.”

Diluc brings him into his arms, and Kaeya lets him, burying himself in his embrace.

Who he is, who he wants to be, what the future has in store for him…he’s not sure of any of that yet. But he has time to figure it out, now, and he won’t be alone. He has his brother and all of Mond looking out for him.

…And he thinks that, perhaps, he would like to look out for them, in turn.