Work Text:
I
When Kaeya goes outside, he finds him standing there, staring up at the mountain.
It's always the same when he wakes up alone: moonlight peeking in through the slit in the curtains; the bedcovers rumpled where they've been pulled back; the bedroom door cracked half open instead of closed like he left it before falling asleep. It doesn't happen every night, but it's frequent enough that Kaeya knows the sight that awaits him when he pushes open his front door.
Albedo is half-naked, dressed only in the loose shorts he wears to sleep in. The moonlight glances off his pale shoulders, his back that's turned to Kaeya, his bare feet on the cobblestone. He doesn't react as Kaeya places a hand on his waist, doesn't even realise he's there.
“Hey,” Kaeya says softly, “let's go back to bed.”
But Albedo remains inert. Luckily, the street is empty – the taverns have long since closed their doors, and night patrols don't tend to linger in this quiet corner of the city – but Kaeya is still eager to get him back in the warm. There's a chill in the air, and just from a touch, he can tell how cold Albedo's skin is. How long has he been standing out here?
“Albedo,” he says a little more firmly, “you need to come inside.”
This time, Albedo makes a little grunt. It's soft, like the sound of someone waking from a deep sleep, though he still doesn't move. Kaeya follows his glassy gaze to Dragonspine. The snowy peak dominates the southern horizon, visible from almost every corner of Mondstadt. Many people think of it as a guardian, guarding the city from afar. Tonight, however, its black slopes feel closer, more imposing, than usual. The thought sends a bolt of ice trickling down Kaeya's spine.
“Albedo,” he says one final time. “Inside.”
At last, the alchemist stirs. His shoulders slacken, and his head droops forward onto his chest. For a moment, Kaeya thinks he's going to keel over onto the floor, but then he pulls himself upright and turns to look at him. The glassy look in his eyes is gone. He blinks, twice, as if only just realising where he is.
“Kaeya?” he whispers. “What are you...”
His question melts into a shudder as his body jumps from the cold. Kaeya slips the hand still on his waist to the small of his back and pulls him into his chest. His skin truly is frozen.
“Don't worry about it,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to his hair. “We can talk about it later.”
“Mm,” says Albedo. He still seems a little dazed; Kaeya wouldn't be surprised if he barely remembers any of this the next day. Nevertheless, Albedo takes him by the wrist and allows himself to be led slowly to the door and over the threshold, back into the warmth of their apartment.
Kaeya shoots one last glance at Dragonspine over his shoulder before closing the door.
II
Sure enough, the next morning, Albedo doesn't remember a thing.
“Not even coming back to bed?” Kaeya asks as he cracks a second egg into the pan resting over his stove.
In his peripheral vision, he watches Albedo shake his head. The alchemist is sat at his table sipping from a mug of lemon water. His gloves and coat are draped over the back of the chair, but other than that, he's completely dressed for work. Kaeya, on the other hand, is still in his night shirt and shorts. Jean has him on an afternoon shift, so there's no need for him to leave the apartment for several hours. He's taken advantage of the free time to cook breakfast, something he only ever bothers with if Albedo's staying with him. Normally, a breakfast for Kaeya looks like a cup of coffee – or several, if he's trying to drown out a hangover from the night before.
As he checks on the herring poaching in another pan (a strange choice at this time of morning, but one of Albedo's favourites), Kaeya takes the opportunity to sneak another glance at him. Memories of the night before have been playing through his mind since he woke up, mainly the glassy look in Albedo's eyes as he gazed towards Dragonspine. Those eyes are back to normal now, fixed on the book he's skimming while he drinks his water. In fact, nothing about him is out of the ordinary.
I suppose that's one thing to be happy about, Kaeya thinks to himself.
Still, it's odd, all of it, and if there's one thing Kaeya's learnt, it's that oddness never bodes well when Albedo's involved.
“So,” Kaeya says, “what does the day hold for a beautiful alchemist such as yourself?”
He already knows, of course. He simply wants to lighten the mood. Sure enough, Albedo meets his flirt with a smirk.
“Sucrose and I will be carrying on our experiment in the city.”
Ah, yes, Kaeya thinks, the elusive experiment. Naturally, he's not allowed to know exactly what it is for confidentiality purposes, and he's never been selfish enough to put Albedo on the spot by prying. It's funny. Out of all the secrets the pair of them have shared with one another, their respective work has always remained confidential. Kaeya wonders if it's because they both have too deep a respect for their jobs, or if even in a relationship as close as theirs, a few secrets need to remain unsaid for convention's sake.
“What about you?” Albedo asks.
A grimace pulls at Kaeya's lips. “Guard duty.”
There's nothing remotely interesting about standing for hours in the cold outside the Knights of Favonius Headquarters, but even an officer like him has to do his share of grunt work every now and then.
“Ouch,” mumbles Albedo.
“Mm.” With the eggs done at last, Kaeya scoops them onto the waiting plates, drains the herring for Albedo and places their breakfasts on the table. “But there are worse motivators for getting through the day than coming home to you. Will you be back in time for dinner? We could head out to Good Hunter.”
“I should be,” says Albedo, eyes lighting up at the sight of his food in front of him. “As long as things go smoothly, Sucrose and I should be done by sunset—”
His face freezes suddenly, as if he's only just remembered something. A pause. Then his chair scrapes against the floorboards. “Archons, I was supposed to meet Sucrose at the Headquarters ten minutes ago!”
Kaeya stands up with him. “But your food.”
“Yes, I know. I mean... I'm so sorry, Kaeya.”
And he does sound it, truly, but it's not enough to keep him at the table. After throwing on his coat, Albedo shoves his gloves into his pocket, runs around and gives Kaeya a fleeting hug. Then he dashes out of the room. The sound of the door slamming shut punctures the air before the apartment is plunged into silence.
Kaeya lets out a sigh and sinks back into his chair. He can't say he's surprised. Disappointed, but not surprised. This isn't the first time Albedo has gone running off to a previous engagement, and it certainly won't be the last.
Still, he hoped they'd get to spend a few quiet minutes together before their day began.
The plate of herring is still steaming on Albedo's side of the table. With his appetite somewhat ruined, Kaeya leans over and grabs it with the plan to cover it up for later. That's when he spots something that makes him frown.
The glass of water Albedo was drinking from sits near the plate. There's about an inch of water left at the bottom along with the wedge of lemon. However, it's the sandy white deposit that sits at the base that catches Kaeya's attention. He puts down the plate and picks up the glass. The white sand dances with the movement before settling again. He swirls the water around a few times. The water turns cloudy white.
Odd.
Kaeya can't say why, but the sight makes him feel a little ill. There's something strangely unnatural about it, as if he's looking at something on the inside of one of Albedo's test tubes. For all he knows, it could be a reaction between the lemon and the water, or some mineral run-off from his taps.
Regardless, he throws it into the sink as quickly as he can and tries not to think about it while he clears away the rest of the table alone.
III
Kaeya spots her at last just before midday, shuffling around the edge of the Headquarters.
She jumps as he saunters up behind her, almost dropping the large wooden box in her hands. “C-Captain Kaeya! You scared me for a moment.”
“Apologies,” says Kaeya with a smile. “How about I carry that for you to make up for it?”
“Thank you, but it's not heavy.” To prove her point, Sucrose lifts the box a little. Judging by the sounds that come from inside, it's full of glass lab equipment – boiling flasks and vials and all manner of delicate science-y things Kaeya would likely end up breaking by accident if he was ever forced to use them.
As they approach the back door of the Headquarters, Kaeya brings them both to a stop. Their breaths condense into icy clouds in the air.
“There's something I've been meaning to ask you, actually,” says Kaeya. “It's about Albedo.”
Sucrose looks up at him over the rim of her glasses. “Of course.”
Kaeya pauses before asking to think back to the previous night, the sight of Albedo standing half-naked in the street, crowned with moonlight.
“Have you ever noticed Albedo acting strangely at night? Sleepwalking, that kind of thing.”
There's no missing the slight reddening of Sucrose's cheeks, no doubt at the very mention of Albedo's nocturnal activities. She shakes her head. “Mister Albedo and I sleep in separate parts of the cave. I wouldn't know.”
“But surely you'd notice if he was walking around in the next room?”
“I mean, sometimes he gets up in the night to work a little, but he turns the lamps on, so I'm sure he's awake.” Sucrose turns her eyes down apologetically. Then she looks sharply up again, as if she's just remembered something. “Actually, there is something.”
“Yes?” Kaeya says, leaning forward.
“It was a couple of weeks ago. I woke up and realised I'd left my extra blanket in the main cavern, so I went to collect it and noticed a sound coming from Mister Albedo's sleeping chamber. I wouldn't normally look, but I thought he might be in trouble, so I went to check on him – just a peek, of course – and saw that he was talking in his sleep. Shouting, actually. Moving around a lot, too. Like he was having a nightmare.”
The image is foreign to Kaeya's mind. Albedo is one of the soundest sleepers he knows, outside of his recent sleepwalking sessions.
“Did you catch what he was saying?” he asks Sucrose with a grimace.
“No. It was closer to noises, really. He sounded like he was in pain.”
Kaeya's heart squeezes.
“I see,” he mumbles. “Well, thank you for that. I won't keep you for any longer.”
He's about to slip away – he jumped at the chance to catch Sucrose and shouldn't even have left his guard post – when Sucrose looks up at him one final time. Concern weighs heavy in her eyes.
“Is something wrong with Mister Albedo, then?”
Kaeya realises he has no idea how to answer that truthfully. He thinks of last night, the white sand in the water glass, the image of Albedo shouting in his sleep that now remains lodged in his mind like a thorn between two fingers.
The smile he gives Sucrose is forced, but practised enough to look completely natural.
“Of course not,” he says. “Try not to worry yourself about it.”
IV
The sound of coughing pierces the air of the apartment, and once again, Kaeya feels his nails bite into the base of his palm.
He promised himself he wouldn't ask a third time, but he can't help himself from walking up to the bathroom door and rapping on the wood. “Albedo, are you sure you're okay in there?”
And just like that, the coughing stops. The tap squeaks as Albedo shuts off the running water he's been using in vain to cover up his noises.
“I'm fine,” he calls out, voice like sandpaper. “Just something in my throat.”
Kaeya might believe him if this wasn't such a common occurrence. In the past few days, Albedo's cough has only gotten worse. Not even the ginger tea, a miracle cure in its own right that Kaeya managed to snap up from a travelling Liyuen trader and has been insisting Albedo drink with meals, has made a difference. Although of course, that goes under the assumption that whatever Albedo is suffering through is little more than a sore throat, and Kaeya's not stupid.
There are other worrying things, too. Since he found the glass three days ago, Kaeya has spotted more and more of the sandy deposits around the house. They're only small, and usually where water is involved: a few grains on the cloth after Albedo's washed his face, or a ring of residue around the plug hole when he washes his hands. Kaeya wouldn't be surprised if he goes in to check the bath tub once the water has drained away and finds a film of it clinging to the sides.
What's more, he finally has an inkling as to what it might be.
Chalk.
Kaeya has always excelled at compartmentalising his own worries. It's the only way he's able to get through the day without the burdens of his past crushing him to the ground. And yet he might have found his breaking point with this. The fight not to let his mind wander into the horrifying implications of his theory is a struggle that has him seeking whatever he can to distract himself. Sometimes it works. Other times, he finds himself spiralling down into a pattern of thoughts that leaves him paralysed with fear.
He knows he should ask Albedo about it, but he's too afraid of what he'll say. At least in ignorance, he can cling to the hope that this is just a passing illness.
And I thought you said you weren't stupid, he tells himself.
Pulling away from the door, Kaeya looks around his bedroom. Albedo's clothes are folded out neatly at the foot of his bed Kaeya walks over and runs a reverent hand over the blue undershirt, when he feels something hard against his fingers. He digs into the breast pocket and pulls out a little golden brooch in the shape of a feather. When he turns it, the light of the lamp catches the metal and shines.
“A gift from my master a long time ago.”
Albedo's voice catches him off guard. He's standing in the door of the bathroom, a towel wrapped and tucked around his waist. Kaeya didn't even hear the door open.
“I've never seen it before.”
“You wouldn't have. It's been at the Dragonspine lab for years.”
As Albedo walks past him, Kaeya can't help the pull of his eyes to his smooth, bare shoulders, the pale hair that sticks to his neck and sends droplets of water sliding down his back. A heat spreads through him, one that quickens his heart and sends his mind racing—
—only for a thought to cut through it like a blade.
I wonder if there's chalk on his skin.
Albedo pulls off his towel, perches on the side of the bed and starts to rub at his hair. His eyes catch Kaeya as he does, and he cocks his head. “Are you okay?”
It's only at his words that Kaeya realises he's been staring wide-eyed at him for several seconds now. He flashes a weak smile and walks over. “Fine. Just thinking of something.”
With a soft grunt of exertion, he sinks to the ground at Albedo's feet and raises the brooch until it catches the light again. “Why a feather? A bird finding its freedom?”
“Something like that, I'd imagine,” says Albedo from underneath the towel. “Creation is freedom, isn't it? At least, that was what Rhinedottir probably intended.”
There's a hint of bitterness to the line that makes Kaeya frown. He lowers the brooch and gazes into Albedo's eyes, searching them. It's a strange feeling. Kaeya's searched the eyes of countless people before – drunks, bandits, criminals – to try and tease out their lies, but never Albedo. The pair of them just don't keep secrets. Outside of work experiments, that is.
“Do you miss her?” he asks.
Albedo lowers the towel and shrugs. “I can honestly say I'm not sure.”
Kaeya's hardly surprised. In the handful of times the pair of them have touched upon the subject of Rhinedottir in the past, Albedo has always remained fairly impassive. It's not that he doesn't have opinions of his master, Kaeya imagines; he just doesn't know how to word them.
Surely, though, there's a reason why he's only started carrying the brooch around with him now.
“She never really cared for me,” Albedo continues slowly, his eyes dropping to a spot just over Kaeya's shoulder. “I was always more of an experiment to her than a person, and she made that obvious from the start. But sometimes...” His hand crept up to his chest, fingertips digging into the skin over his heart, as if he believed he could reach it if he pushed hard enough. “Sometimes it's hard not to think of her as my mother. Is it only because I don't have anyone else to fulfill that role?”
Slowly, Kaeya reaches out and places his hands on Albedo's bare knees. He rubs them a little, taking in the warmth of his skin, still a little damp from the bath. “I can't say I know what that's like. I barely remember my mother.”
He lets the few memories he has flicker through his mind: a hand rubbing his tiny wrist; a lock of dark hair dangling before his face; a soft, melodic voice humming by a rainy window. Recollections as old and faded as the memory of Khaenri'ah itself. Albedo is one of the few people who knows about his origins, the same way that he's the only one who knows that the alchemist is a homunculus, a creature made from chalk.
Chalk.
At once, Kaeya pulls his hands back from Albedo's knees. Relief sweeps through him when he sees that his palms are free of that white deposit.
“Kaeya?”
A pair of hands touches either side of his jaw. Kaeya allows Albedo to tilt his head backwards until their eyes meet again. This time, the look in Albedo's is softer, a warm, blue ocean. Kaeya lets it wash around him in waves, soothing him from the inside out.
“I wonder what's worse,” says Albedo, leaning forward. “Having only awful memories of your mother, or none at all.”
Kaeya hums. “Maybe they're both as bad as each other.”
“I suppose that makes us both broken, then.”
“I've always thought that, too,” says Kaeya, before pushing off the floor enough to meet Albedo's waiting lips.
Then again, it's not so bad being broken when you have someone with you to hold your pieces together.
V
“Enough.”
The word wrenches Kaeya from his sleep. He rolls over, half-expecting to find his bed empty again, but Albedo is there. His relief drains away, however, when the alchemist suddenly jerks back and makes a whining noise.
Talking in his sleep. Shouting. Moving around. Like he was having a nightmare.
Remembering Sucrose's confession, Kaeya leans over Albedo and places a hand on his arm. Albedo gasps, his hands gripping the covers.
“Don't make me... I don't... want to...”
For a moment, Kaeya wonders whether Albedo is talking to him, and in the throes of his nightmare sees him as someone trying to do him harm, so he sharply pulls back his hand. The moonlight glances off his skin and reveals something that makes his chest feel tight.
The palm of his hand is coated in white.
Kaeya can't move, can't even breathe. All he can do it stare at it. In the end, it's another pained mumble from Albedo that snaps him from his trance. Slowly, he places his thumb and middle finger together and rubs. The chalk crumbles apart between his fingertips. He leans over Albedo again and runs his hand along his shoulder, brushing away more traces of chalk, like dust that's collected on an old dresser.
If he does it enough, will he eventually reach bone?
As Albedo shudders again, Kaeya wraps his arm around him and pulls him into his chest. Albedo nuzzles his neck like a child clinging to their mother.
“I don't want to go back,” he mumbles.
Kaeya doesn't respond, just buries his face in his hair and holds him more tightly than he ever has before.
VI
“Are you all right, Kaeya?”
The man looks around to see Jean staring at him as they walk down the corridor, concern painted across her expression. With a weak smile, he nods and says, “Never better. Why do you ask?”
“You just look tired.”
Now, that's the pot calling the kettle black, if ever I've seen it, thinks Kaeya. How many times has Jean come to work with bags under her eyes and a slouch to her step?
Still, he supposes she has a point. There's no hiding the visible exhaustion in his face no matter how hard he tries.
“I didn't sleep very well last night,” he says simply.
They turn the corner together, and the sight in front of him makes Kaeya freeze. A figure is picking their way towards them, eyes blown wide with terror. When they see the two Knights, they leap into a sprint towards them.
“Captain Kaeya, Grand Master Jean! I'm so sorry.” Sucrose stops a few inches short of crashing into Kaeya. Her whole body is trembling.
Already, Kaeya can feel a lump grow in his throat, but he swallows it back. “Sucrose, what's wrong?”
“It's Albedo. He had a coughing fit and collapsed.”
Kaeya isn't sure what happens after that. His body moves on instinct, the world swimming around him as he allows Sucrose to lead through the Headquarters. When his awareness snaps back, he's staring at a lone figure lying on a sofa, cocooned in blankets.
“Albedo.”
The word is barely a whisper on Kaeya's lips. He falls to his knees by the alchemist's side and is about to reach out for him, when he stops himself.
Slowly, Albedo rolls over to face him. He doesn't seem to have been sleeping, but his expression is faraway all the same, as if he's just been caught between dreams.
“Kaeya?” he mumbles. “Wh-what are you doing here?”
The floorboards creak as Sucrose walks up behind them, though like Kaeya, she seems afraid to get too close. “We were just moving some equipment around when he fell to the floor coughing. I don't know what caused it. Maybe some dust in the air?”
All Kaeya can manage in response is a stiff nod. “Maybe.”
It take a few seconds for Albedo to process the words he's hearing. “I... collapsed?”
And just like that, he's coughing again, deep, retching sounds that sound like they're tearing his throat to ribbons. This time, Kaeya can't stop himself from seizing his hand and squeezing his fingers through the gloves.
Is it his imagination, or do they feel thinner than usual?
“I'm taking him home,” Kaeya says. His voice falls like stones from his lips.
He knows Jean won't deny him, but he still feels a wave of relief when she says, “Of course. It goes without saying that the pair of you are dismissed for the rest of the day.”
Kaeya thanks her, slips his arms underneath Albedo and picks him up. On the best of days, the alchemist is light, but today, it seems like he hardly weighs a thing. Again, Kaeya wonders whether that's just his mind playing tricks on him.
As he starts his walk to the door, Jean places a hand on his shoulder. “Please take care of him.”
“I will,” says Kaeya. He's not sure how, but he will.
VII
Warm potato soup left over from a recent lunch trip to Good Hunter. A toasted bread roll slathered with butter and topped with thin slices of smoked trout. Kaeya arranges Albedo's favourite foods neatly on a tray along with cutlery and a glass of warm ginger tea.
It all has to be perfect.
When he's finally satisfied with the composition, Kaeya puts on his most convincing smile and walks to the living room.
“There was just enough trout for one roll, so I hope it's a good one.”
It's a lie. There's another fillet of trout waiting in the kitchen. He just doesn't know what else to say.
Albedo jumps the moment Kaeya enters the room, like a child who's just been caught looking at something they shouldn't have. He's wrapped himself in blankets again, and Kaeya can't help but wonder whether it's because he's genuinely cold or simply enjoys the comfort of the material.
Or maybe he's trying to hide something.
Putting that out of his mind, Kaeya pulls up the coffee table and places the tray on top of it, to a weak “Thank you” from Albedo. His voice sounds raspy, laboured.
“You should try to eat something,” says Kaeya. “For strength.”
Despite the effort he's put in, he's wholly expecting Albedo to turn it down, so it's a shock when the alchemist nods and picks up a piece of fish. He nibbles on the corner of it.
“You don't have to stay, Kaeya. I'll be fine.”
The declaration is uncharacteristically sharp, enough for Kaeya to suspect that it's a push to get him to leave. His eyes drop to Albedo's body, and all of a sudden he notices that his left hand is pushed down between his leg and the back of the sofa. Slowly, he walks over and reaches for his forearm. Albedo hesitates for a moment, then sighs and allows Kaeya to lift it up.
What he finds makes his stomach turn.
Albedo's hand is gone. Melted. Faded to dust. The wrist it was attached to is little more than a stump, skin, flesh and bones crumbling into chalk that falls down onto the blankets even as Kaeya holds it.
“Wh-what is this?” He can barely form the words.
Albedo waits a few seconds before speaking. He's staring at the stump, and Kaeya has never seen such loathing stir in his eyes.
“It's been a long time coming. You know what I am, Kaeya. I look and act human, but this body is chalk tied together by alchemy. It only stands to reason that like a chunk of rock, it would one day break down into nothing.”
“You never told me,” is all Kaeya can manage.
“I didn't know.” A sigh escapes Albedo's lips. “At least, not until recently. I can only imagine that there was a flaw in Rhinedottir's design.”
Flaw. Design. Kaeya wants to scold him for talking about himself like he's just another experiment, but he knows the moment he opens his mouth again, the tears he's struggling to hold back will come spilling out.
Eventually, he forces himself to mutter, “Surely... Surely it can be healed,” and right on cue, his voice cracks. He doesn't want to believe the sight in front of his eyes. As if it hasn't been creeping up on him for days.
Albedo laughs softly. It's not a pleasant sound. “You know as well as I do that this isn't anything a healer can fix. But...” He pauses to glance up at the window. “I've been having constant dreams of Dragonspine. I don't know why, but I think there might be something for me there. Something that can help.”
“We'll go there right now, then. Drink the tea, if you can. I'll get our coats.”
Suddenly, Kaeya is swept up in the need to move. At least this way, he can do something to help, something to stave off the horror building in his gut. After placing, Albedo's hand gently back down onto his body, Kaeya pushes himself to his feet and rushes off to the kitchen, wondering how long he'll last under the weight of his panic before he, too, crumbles down into nothingness.
XIII
The moon has long since reached its peak in the sky by the time Wyrmrest Valley comes into view.
Kaeya has never liked the giant bones that curve over the sides of the valley, and the sight of them now, an eerie, pale grey against the black night sky, makes him shiver. Still, they're the last thing he can think about now. His boots drag against the snow as he trudges up the slope, his breath forming icy clouds before his face.
“How are you doing?” he asks.
The figure clinging to his back doesn't answer, though Kaeya feels his scarf move against the back of his neck as he nods. He took to carrying Albedo an hour ago when he tumbled into the snow for the third time. Whether it was from the exhaustion or because he was losing parts of his legs to walk on, Kaeya doesn't know, although he's trying not to think about the fact that Albedo's sleeve falls loose far further back than it should do, as if there's nothing to prop it up anymore.
Before they left the apartment, he noticed Albedo scribbling on a piece of a paper and shoving it into his pocket. He imagines it's a set of directions in case he falls unconscious. Not that Kaeya needs them. He already knows exactly where they're going.
The light is distant at first, a deep, red glow between the walls of the valley ahead like a single, glaring eye. As Kaeya draws closer, he notices splotches of red staining the snow, suspiciously blood-like. He's never been here before, though he's seen it from a distance, and his curiosity has always fallen short of the sheer eerieness that clings to this place like a miasma. The air is completely still. There's no noise, no movement. Nothing except his own breaths and the sound of boots crunching on snow.
That is until, at last, he gets close enough to detect it. The gentle pump of a heart. Kaeya doesn't hear it so much as feel it, a slow, constant rhythm beneath his feet, like the pulse of the Ley Lines that run through this mountain.
“We're almost there,” he tells Albedo.
When he finally steps into the cave, it's like entering another world. Kaeya has only seen the heart of this valley in Albedo's sketches; to see it beating in front of him, encased in rock and glowing, is something else entirely. He follows the web of vessels that extend from the top and spread out over the walls, threading over and under one another like some visceral tapestry. Like he's standing inside the body of some giant beast.
From behind him, a voice stammers, “Pl-please put me down.”
Kaeya obeys. He treats Albedo like he's made of glass, unhooking his arms from around his neck before lowering him to the ground. To his surprise, Albedo begins to stagger towards the heart.
“Wait—” Kaeya protests, until he realises that by some miracle, Albedo remains upright.
This is it. The moment he's spent hours trekking through the snow for. The moment he's put every ounce of his stock into and the one upon which his very sanity hinges. He's not sure what he expects to happen. Maybe some kind of magic, an act of fusion between Albedo's body and the mountain that will regrow what he's lost in a shower of golden light.
Albedo reaches for the heart and places his good hand against it, bare skin to pulsing muscle. Kaeya holds his breath and waits.
Nothing happens.
A whole minute must have passed before Albedo pulls his hand away. He's shaking from his arm to his legs, and as he turns to Kaeya, he sees that his face is streamed with tears.
“Why didn't it work?”
Kaeya's arms are around him within a second, and then Albedo is clinging to him once again, sobbing into his shoulder.
“I thought there would be some trace of her here. I thought... I could prolong my life. It wasn't meant to end here.”
Her.
Rhinedottir.
All at once, Kaeya's mind is scrabbling for an alternative. Should he go up to the lab above the valley and try to find something to reverse this process there? Surely there's a formula or chemical or something around that can hold him together long enough for him to get in contact with Rhinedottir. That's the whole point of alchemy, isn't it? The creation of life.
What's the point of it all if it can't preserve just one of those lives.
The sound of Albedo coughing breaks Kaeya from his thoughts. Without thinking, he wraps his arms more tightly around him, and his stomach drops as something deep inside Albedo snaps.
“Al?” he whispers in horror.
A look down shows him something far more terrifying. The alchemist's legs are starting to crumble, trousers falling slack as a thin stream of chalk drifts from the bottom of them. It doesn't look real. Like something from a nightmare.
“I don't want to go,” Albedo whines, fingers tightening in the fur of Kaeya's coat. “I want... to stay here. With you.”
Kaeya buries his face in Albedo's hair, takes in the smell of it before it, too, is reduced to nothingness.
“It's okay,” he whispers. “You can stay here with me. I'm not going anywhere.”
It's all he can offer in this moment.
“What a waste of a life.”
Kaeya pulls him closer until there's no space left between them, trying to ingore the feeling of Albedo's body growing smaller, lighter. Holding onto him at this point is like trying to carry a mound of sand as it slips slowly back through his arms. He kisses the top of Albedo's head over and over until the hair is wet and salty from his own tears.
“Your life wasn't a waste, because I have never loved anyone as much as I love you,” he whispers.
Albedo tilts his head up, and Kaeya catches one last look of those beautiful blue eyes before their lips meet. Kaeya closes his eyes and pours everything he has into the kiss, memorises the warmth of Albedo's mouth, the shape of it, burns it into his mind so that he'll remember it for as long as he lives.
When he opens his eyes, Albedo is gone.
It takes Kaeya several seconds – minutes, even – to let the fact of that sink in. Albedo is gone. He looks around the cavern, takes in the beating heart, the vessels on the walls, the red patches on the floor. The pile of clothes at his feet.
Albedo is gone.
The scream Kaeya lets out is like no sounds he's ever made before. His legs collapse beneath him and he falls to his hands and knees. Sob after sob wracks his body, his shoulders shaking so violently he's close to keeling over altogether.
Not that he wouldn't welcome such a thing at this point. He only wishes the ground would swallow him up as he does so.
“No, no, no,” he mumbles over and over. He rifles through Albedo's clothes, squeezing the material, searching for a trace of the alchemist that isn't scattered across the cave floor in the form of chalk. It sticks to his sleeves, his fingers, and the only reason Kaeya doesn't brush it off in disgust is because it's all that remains of him.
His hands touch something hard. After wiping tears from his blurry eyes with his shoulder, Kaeya reaches into Albedo's pocket and pulls out a letter wrapped around a small object. He's trembling as he unwraps it to find the feather brooch given to Albedo by Rhinedottir, along with the note he wrote before leaving the apartment. Unfolding it, he sees a single line written on the page in spidery handwriting:
Although my time in this world was short, I would not have spent it any other way than in your arms.
Kaeya isn't sure how long he spends sitting there, rereading the paper. Long enough that when he finally looks over his shoulder, a hint of light is visible through the cave mouth. The sight reminds him of the slither of moonlight that always manages to peek through his curtains back in his bedroom. Slowly, carefully, Kaeya folds up the note in his hands and places it in his pocket with the brooch. Then he gathers up Albedo's clothes in his arms and pushes himself to his feet.
His steps are shaky as he walks to the mouth of the cave and looks down over the valley through puffy, stinging eyes. The light of dawn is just peeking over the eastern ridge, transforming the sky into a palette of blues, pinks and purples. It's a scene beautiful enough to paint, and Kaeya finds himself wondering how many mornings Albedo spent standing outside his lab at the top of the valley, looking out at this exact scene.
It feels like one final gift to him from the alchemist.
“Thank you,” whispers Kaeya.
And with that, he starts his slow descent down the valley into a world that has never felt as vast and lonely as it does right now.