Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kaeya paused in the shadow of Good Hunter for a reprieve from the sun’s enthusiasm: the day wasn’t much warmer than normal for this time of year, but it felt almost uncomfortably hot to him.  Hot enough that he was seriously considering at least shedding his cape for the rest of his rounds.

(He decided against it; he never forwent his full outfit while on the clock, and he didn’t know if it would be detrimental to have anyone notice something off today. Better not to chance it.)

He let himself rest in the shade another minute before he set off again.  He had a lot left to do, and only so much time to do it in: Margaret still needed to be told that the route her usual suppliers used had been cleared - once Kaeya could actually find her - Huffman likely had a report that needed to be intercepted before it made it to Jean’s desk, Goth and his son had gotten into yet another argument that was annoying the neighbors at this point, there had been some suspicious activity near the side gate that Kaeya needed to follow up on because he knew Guy wouldn’t bother, and he needed to nudge Miles into taking the day off for his birthday next week.

It would have been a full day even if he didn’t have other plans for his afternoon.

He spotted Margaret loitering near Timaeus’s workshop and hurried to catch her before she vanished again, and finally managed to relay the good news.

“Thank you so much, Captain,” she said, smiling brightly.  “I knew I could count on the Knights.”

“We live to serve,” Kaeya assured her with a smile and a bow.  “Though if you’re really keen to show your appreciation, a free drink now and then might not go amiss.”

Margaret laughed.  “Appreciative I may be, Captain, but business is business,” she said.

“Alas,” Kaeya lamented, placing a hand over his heart in mock disappointment.  “Then I must instead cherish your lovely smile as my only reward.”

Margaret laughed again, shooing him on his way.  He went, waving to Katheryne as he breezed past her station heading for the lower market street that snaked past the main gate and the next thing on his to-do list.

Miles had already gone on his lunch break, so he wasn’t around to overhear when Kaeya stopped to ask Flora if he’d ordered anything recently.  Flora, of course, shook her head.

“Why would he?” she asked.  “Is there an important date coming up?”

“Just his birthday next Friday,” Kaeya said, shrugging.  “I know how much he loves windwheel asters, but he works so hard he never seems to have the time to visit Windrise; I assumed he’d at least want to treat himself to a few on his birthday.”

“I see,” Flora said.  “No, he hasn’t placed an order yet, but I can put something together for him,” she offered.

“I’m sure he’d appreciate that,” Kaeya said, smiling.  “And tell you what, go ahead and send the bill to the Knights of Favonius.  It’s his first birthday in the city, after all; the Order should give him a gift, shouldn’t we?”

Flora giggled, nodding.  Kaeya thanked her and turned to leave, nodding politely to Beatrice as if he hadn’t known she was shamelessly eavesdropping and already looked like she’d explode if she didn’t tell the entire market district immediately.

Once word got to Sarah, she’d insist on making Miles a special birthday meal; Blanche, never one to let Sarah outdo her, would add her own gift, Margaret would pitch in a little something ‘for the publicity’, and Marjorie would set out to top them all.  They’d all assume Miles would take his birthday off and give him their gifts a day early, and Miles would finally accept that day off to avoid making things awkward.  Kaeya already had two Knights on standby to fill his shift, so there’d be no problem there, and Miles’ husband would actually get to spend the whole day with him for once.

The amount of bills various shopkeepers would send to Headquarters over this shouldn’t make too much of a dent in Kaeya’s savings, and fostering a bit of romance between newlyweds was more than worth the expense.

Luckily, he managed to run into Huffman on his way to the side gate and take possession of his report without having to make a detour.  He’d pass it on to Jean as promised, but only after recopying it; Huffman’s penmanship was atrocious, and Kaeya considered transcribing it into something actually legible for Jean the least he could do for their overworked Acting Grand Master.

Guy’s ten-minute report consisted of a minute and a half of actual substance and eight and a half minutes of complaining about how boring his post was.  Given that the ratio was usually nine minutes and fifteen seconds of complaining versus forty-five seconds of report, he was obviously in a much better mood than usual.

Guy’s good mood was also apparent in the lack of annoyance on Hertha’s part when Kaeya stopped for a quick word with her on his way to the stairs.  That was good; Hertha did as much as Jean in keeping the Knights running smoothly, and anything that made her day easier was a blessing to the entire Order.

Instead of veering left at the top of the stairs to eavesdrop on the pair of Fatui aides who liked to spend their working hours gossiping by the waypoint, Kaeya hung a sharp right, pretending to be engrossed in Huffman’s report until he reached the table where Marvin spent his days.  He deliberately almost ran Sharp down for the excuse to look up.

“Terribly sorry,” he said with his most charming smile.  “I really should pay more attention to where I’m going.”

“Yes,” Sharp agreed gruffly, “you should.”

“Be nice to Captain Kaeya, Sharp,” Marvin spoke up.  The Goth family had slightly outdated views on omegas, and his insistence on manners had less to do with respecting Kaeya’s rank than with how he felt alphas ought to speak to omegas.  Kaeya didn’t really care about his reasoning, just as long as it gave him the opening he wanted.

“Good day, Marvin,” he said.  “It’s a rare treat to see you awake at this hour, if you don’t mind my saying.”

Marvin huffed.  “I’m too angry to be tired,” he admitted, just shy of snapping.

Kaeya adopted a politely concerned expression, sitting in the empty chair across from Marvin and setting Huffman’s report face-down on the table.  “Sounds like you could use a sympathetic ear,” he said, which was all the invitation Marvin needed.

“It’s my father,” he said, his soft growl reflecting the same frustration as the sudden sharpness of his scent.  “He’s trying to make me break up with Marla again.  I just don’t understand what his problem is: isn’t it enough Marla and I are in love?  Why is he so against us being happy together?”

Marvin didn’t want to hear that his father had his best interests in mind, or that Ludwig was only doing what he thought was best.  The kid was a starry-eyed romantic through and through, and any hint that there might be some weight to his father’s objections just meant the fight would drag on even longer.

For the sake of allowing the neighbors to sleep, a different approach was needed.

“You have to keep in mind, it’s been some time since your father was in love,” Kaeya said.  “I imagine if your mother was still around to give him a good scolding, things would be different.”

“Mom knew what true romance is all about,” Marvin agreed.  “Dad is such a wet blanket without her.”

Kaeya hummed agreeably.  “Did you know she was the one to propose to him?”

Marvin shook his head, laughing.  “No, but I’m not surprised at all.”

“According to Master Crepus, her exact words were ‘we’ve been dating for two years, Ludwig: just marry me already!’   Do you know what his response was?”

“What?”

“‘We’re dating?’”

Marvin cackled.  “No!”

“May Celestia strike me down if I’m lying.  Honestly, I have no idea where Ms. Vera found the patience to deal with him, gods rest her sainted soul.”

Marvin nodded, sitting back with a sigh.  “He’s just so stubborn.”

“As stubborn as the wind and about as reasonable, too,” Kaeya agreed.  “You can’t stop the wind by blowing back at it, though: all you can do is wait for it to stop blowing on its own.”

Marvin sighed again.  “I suppose,” he agreed reluctantly.

“Even the worst storms abate eventually; you just have to be patient.  And you’ve got someone to keep you company while you wait, don’t you?”

“I do,” Marvin agreed much more readily, smiling.  He certainly wasn't going to apologize, but at least he wouldn't be going out of his way to antagonize his father for the time being, and the whole fight would be laid to rest in a few days rather than a month or so.

“And with that bit of sage advice," Kaeya said, "I need to get back to work.  Say hi to Marla for me.”

“And let you seduce her away from me?” Marvin asked with a laugh.

“Even my pretty face isn’t enough to tempt your lady, Marvin,” Kaeya assured him, standing.  “She only has eyes for you.  Good day, young Master Goth.”

“Good day, Captain Kaeya,” Marvin replied, yawning.

Kaeya struck that item from his mental list as he headed off, meaning all his errands for the day had been carried out.  And none too soon: it was a little after 16:00, if he judged the position of the sun correctly, which meant Eula was due back in less than an hour.

Eula’s problem was a bit of an ongoing one, and required regular attention. Attention that was overdue; the townspeople at large were becoming a bit too hostile toward her, and she was responding by being even more contemptuous than usual.  If Kaeya didn't step in soon, someone was going to say or do something stupid, and that was the last thing Eula or Mondstadt needed.

Kaeya paused on the empty staircase up to the next terrace and took stock of himself.  He was cutting it close, but he could hold out for an hour or two, if Eula ran a bit late today.  Still, he should probably stop by headquarters and wrap things up while he could, just in case she got back sooner than he expected her to.

Long practice meant it only took about ten minutes to copy Huffman’s report.  Kaeya added it to a stack of similar non-sensitive, non-urgent reports, tucking that under his arm, then grabbed another much thicker report that he’d promised to have for Albedo by the day after tomorrow.  Then he left his office once more and set out to run into Noelle.

Noelle was making her rounds of the laboratories.  They were mostly empty right now, but she still cleaned them thoroughly every day.  Luckily, no emergency had called her away, and he met her coming around the corner by the stairs with a crate of spotless glass flasks in her hands.

“Hello, Captain Kaeya,” she said, bobbing a quick curtsy.  “Is there something I can help you with?”

Kaeya shook his head.  “Just dropping something off in Albedo’s lab,” he said, holding up the report in his hand.

“I’m heading there myself,” Noelle said, smiling.  “Would you like to walk together?”

“You know I’m always glad of your company, Noelle,” he said, smiling, and gestured for her to precede him.  “Keeping yourself busy?”

“Yes, sir,” she assured him.  “Busy as a bee, that’s me.”

“I see you’ve found time to take up poetry.”

Noelle blinked, then blushed.  “Oh!  That was- I wasn’t- I mean- what about you, sir?  Are you keeping busy?”

“Oh, you know me,” he said, holding the door to Albedo’s lab open for her, “I never work at all if I can help it.”

Noelle laughed.  Given how much time she spent in Headquarters and how many nights she’d stumbled on him still at his desk long past the point when any sane man would’ve gone home, she was possibly the only person besides Jean who wasn’t fooled by that act.

“Will you be staying late today, too?” she asked, setting down the crate without so much as making the flasks clink against each other.

“I’m thinking of leaving a bit early, actually,” he said, dropping the report next to the crate where Albedo could spot it easily.

Noelle took such a delicate and unobtrusive sniff of the air that Kaeya almost missed it even though he was expecting it.

“Are you feeling alright, Captain Kaeya?” she asked, because she was young and a bit too sheltered to know what she was actually scenting from him.  “Your scent is a bit off today, if it’s not presumptuous of me to say.”

“I am feeling a little under the weather, so to speak,” he admitted.  “Probably just a summer cold; I’ll inform the Acting Grand Master, then go sleep it off.”

“I can tell Master Jean you’re leaving, if you’d like,” she offered immediately.

“I appreciate the offer, but I have to deliver these reports to her, anyway.”

“I can take care of those as well, sir.”

“I wouldn’t want to take advantage when you already have so much to do,” Kaeya protested.

“Nonsense,” Noelle insisted.  “I’ll be in and out of Master Jean’s office at least four more times today, so it’s not even out of my way.”

Kaeya smiled gratefully.  “Then I’d appreciate that a lot, Noelle,” he said.  “Thank you.”

He’d spent enough of his heats with her and her packmates that Jean would know immediately what was actually happening, and she’d insist on finding him a trustworthy partner before she’d let him leave, which would rather ruin his plans.  If he hadn’t been able to catch Noelle, he would’ve had to find another messenger and convince them to run the errand without giving them cause to actually be concerned, and frankly he didn’t have time for that.

“It’s no trouble at all,” Noelle assured him, taking possession of the reports.  “You go right home and rest, sir, and I’ll come by later with some soup for you.”

He didn’t tell her that wouldn’t be necessary; by the time she’d be ready to do that, word would have already spread and she’d be warned off just fine.  A conscientious young beta like Noelle would never presume to interrupt an alpha sharing an omega’s heat, especially when neither of them was in her pack.

They parted ways at the top of the stairs with a final admonition from Noelle to actually rest.  Kaeya agreed meekly, returning to his office long enough to set it to rights and lock up.  Then he left, not through the side door that let out less than five minutes from his apartment, but through the back door that opened on a long, deserted alley that Eula always used when returning from field work.  She’d likely show up any minute now, so Kaeya let himself go fully into heat, and leaned against the wall to wait.

Eula came along right on time, still impeccably elegant despite having spent the whole day fighting in Dadaupa Gorge.  She stopped as soon as she spotted Kaeya, automatically scenting the air, then marched over radiating righteous indignation.

“Why were you not given heat leave?” she demanded in lieu of a greeting, outraged on his behalf.

Kaeya laughed.  “No one knew I’d need it,” he said with a shrug and a rueful smile.  “You know how notoriously inconsistent my cycle is.”

An omega Kaeya’s age would normally have long settled into a regular cycle of a heat every one to two months, and could usually predict their heats to within a day.  An omega who rarely had a heat that wasn’t forced early or artificially delayed, however…

Well.  His cycle was notoriously inconsistent, and it was no one’s fault but his own.

Eula huffed.  “Then as a member of the illustrious Lawrence Clan, it is my duty to see you safely home.  Be properly grateful for this glorious honor, lowly soldier.”

Kaeya smiled and let her help him straighten up, wrapping her arm around his waist.  “I’m unworthy of such magnanimous care, Lady Lawrence,” he said.  “I will repay your benevolence as best my common blood allows.”

Eula smiled slightly as they started out.  Kaeya was one of the few people in Mondstadt willing to play along with her snobbish noblewoman persona, and the only one who actually knew the proper responses.  It might be just a pose, but he knew Eula enjoyed getting to ham it up like this from time to time.

The walk wasn’t very long, with Eula’s support.  More importantly, they ran into enough people that it would be all over the city by nightfall that Kaeya was in heat again, and that Eula had been spotted escorting him.

Kaeya’s apartment was on the large side.  He’d initially lived in a much smaller one, but it had quickly become clear he needed more space.  This one had three bedrooms - his, one set up for Klee, and one for guests and storage - a spacious kitchen with room for a large table, and a living room more than big enough for the use it saw.

Eula helped him up the two outside staircases, politely waiting until he invited her in before actually stepping over the threshold, then immediately got him seated on the couch.

“I can fetch a partner for you,” she offered, stepping back once she didn’t have the excuse of supporting him to stay closer.  “Whomever you prefer.”

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary,” Kaeya said, shaking his head.  “All my usual helpers are busy.  I’ll be fine on my own if you need to be elsewhere.”

Eula would never trust the intentions of someone asking to share their heat with her, nor would she ever presume that a commoner omega would accept her offer of company if they had any other option available to them.  The one thing the Lawrence clan had gotten right in Eula’s education, however, was how to treat omegas: they’d assumed that any omega she partnered with would be a noble like her, and had taught her with that assumption in mind.

And one of the first things they’d taught her was that it was never acceptable to leave an omega to face their heat alone.

For omegas in general, spending their heat alone was uncomfortable at best.  Even having a null or an unpresented kid around was better than being alone.  They could manage without help if they had to, but they certainly wouldn't enjoy it, and would generally accept the company of anyone they didn’t actively dislike as a much preferable alternative.

For Kaeya specifically, spending his heat alone was downright torture.  He’d only had to do it once - his first heat after Master Crepus’s death, still nursing burns and too consumed with hurt and guilt to seek company - and it had left him too sick to get out of bed for more than a week.  Only Jean knew he’d even gone into heat, so thankfully no one but her knew about that particular weakness, and Kaeya was very careful to only offer that option to people like Eula who were guaranteed to reject it.

Eula huffed, putting her hands on her hips.  “Well,” she said haughtily, “since you have no one else, I’ll grant you the honor of my exalted company for the duration of your heat.”

Kaeya smiled, relaxing back against the couch cushions.  “I’d appreciate that,” he said, and didn’t miss the bright minty undercurrent to her scent that said she was pleased by his acceptance.

Eula huffed again, obviously fighting a smile as she set off down the hall towards the guest room, where Kaeya kept everything they’d need to make a temporary nest.

Kaeya had a nest, a proper permanent one.  It was in his bedroom, where most omegas had their nests, and Eula had never joined him there.  No one had.  No one but him had ever entered that nest: he’d made it only after getting himself kicked out of Diluc’s pack, and that sort of nest was only supposed to be shared with packmates.

Not having a pack, Kaeya had no one to share his nest with.

Probably just as well; his nest was roughly 80% things he'd stolen from just about everyone in Mondstadt, after all, and he’d rather not have to explain that if he didn’t have to.  Mainly because he had no explanation.  And maybe Eula wouldn’t mind that he had some of her ties, maybe Lisa wouldn’t care about the pair of gloves he’d filched, maybe Bennett never did notice one of his bandanas had gone missing, but he couldn’t take the chance. If anyone saw his nest, they might take back their things, and that was one thought Kaeya couldn't stand.

Again, he had absolutely no idea why.

Eula came back with her arms full of blankets and pillows, which she dropped on the couch next to him.  He didn’t get up while she shoved the far end of the couch against the wall; Eula considered building the nest part of taking proper care of an omega, and he’d shared enough heats with her that she didn’t need any input from him to get the furnishings rearranged properly.

It took almost no time at all for her to lay out a soft, thick nest of bedding, guarded on three sides by the couch, the wall, and the coffee table, the remaining side partially blocked by the heavy end tables.  By the time she finished arranging the pillows to her exacting standards she was smiling openly, her scent mellow and contented as she divested them both of most of their clothing and got him settled comfortably.  After just a few minutes of cuddling, she relaxed completely for the first time in weeks, which was exactly why he’d held off his heat until he’d known she would be in town for a few days.

Despite what trashy romance novels might say, heats weren’t entirely or even mainly about sex.  They were about settling, soothing, comforting, dealing with internal strife before it became a problem.  That was the role omegas were meant to play: to keep things running smoothly internally so that the alphas could concentrate on external threats.

Eula had an omega in her pack, but Yanfei was almost never in Mondstadt, so Eula rarely got to spend her heats with her; Kaeya would just have to pick up the slack for them until Eula found a better option.  He could help keep down tensions between her and the rest of the city that way, and make sure Eula stayed at least somewhat steady while half her pack was off in Liyue.

That was what omegas were for, after all.

Chapter Text

The day after Kaeya’s heat ended, Eula insisted on escorting him to work.  It wasn’t necessary, and anyone else Kaeya would have politely declined, but different considerations applied to Eula.

Everyone knew by now that Eula had spent Kaeya’s heat with him, and some people would be watching for anything that could be twisted to fit the ‘all Lawrences are inherently evil’ narrative they just couldn’t let go of.  Even though Kaeya’s partners were almost never seen with him the day after his heat, somebody in the city would still insist Eula not being seen with him meant she’d done something wrong.

So Kaeya let Eula accompany him to Good Hunter for breakfast, then to Headquarters, keeping up an amicable one-sided conversation.  He took shameless advantage of the residual closeness to lean on Eula and brush against her, making sure that for the rest of the day, his scent was going to linger on her.

If anyone decided to be an ass to her today, it wasn't going to be due to lack of effort on Kaeya’s part.

Once they parted ways, Kaeya devoted most of his attention to the work he’d missed over the last few days, but kept part of his attention on keeping track of Eula.

Sure enough, several of the Knights passed her in the hall without making obvious space between them.  Two of them held semi-normal conversations with her.  No one glared at her when Kaeya just happened to take a break in time to join her at Good Hunter for lunch, and nobody got up and moved to a farther table.

A successful heat, all things considered; he could focus on other problems now that the hostility had been brought under control, and not have to worry about Eula for a month or two at least.

He should feel satisfied.  Maybe even smug.  Everything had gone exactly as he’d planned, and the results were entirely positive with no real negative side effects.

He should feel satisfied, but all he really felt as he watched Eula and Eury exchange polite nods as they passed each other was strangely hollow inside.

Kaeya ignored the feeling.  It would probably go away on its own.

It didn’t go away on its own.

If anything, it got worse, just a little heavier every day until the hollowness became almost a physical weight in his chest.

Kaeya continued to ignore it.  He had too much to do to waste time pitying himself, and as long as it didn’t affect his duties, it didn’t really matter.

His temper was a bit shorter than usual, but he had that under control.  His patience was a little thin, but he had that handled, too.  Everything was perfectly fine.  Everything was perfectly fine for weeks.

Then Hertha asked him to ask Wagner for a rough estimate on restocking the general armory.  Schulz handled the accounting, and Schulz took every chance possible to compare his own work to Wagner’s, just like he always did.  Kaeya knew that was just his low self-esteem talking, and that they were making progress - slow, frustrating progress, but still progress - on it.  He was always careful to tread lightly on the subject.

But a shorter temper and thinning patience made it seem much more annoying than usual, until Schulz finished up the rough calculations with yet another self-deprecating comment, and Kaeya couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Maybe if you spent a little less time badmouthing yourself and a little more time actually working, you’d see some improvement,” he snapped without thinking.

Before Schulz could do more than look bewildered and hurt, Wagner slammed his hammer down and turned away from his work, anger overriding the smell of hot metal and sweat that usually covered any other scent in the smithy.

“That is out of line, Captain,” he snapped right back.

Kaeya’s annoyance immediately vanished, replaced with something he didn’t even know how to describe, besides the fact that it hurt.   It hurt like a punch to the gut, like alcohol on an open wound, like the contempt and anger on Diluc’s face just before he-

Kaeya yanked himself out of that spiral as fast as he could.  He’d upset Schulz and gotten Wagner angry at him, and he couldn’t afford to let himself get distracted until after he fixed that.

“You’re absolutely right, Master Wagner,” he said.  “That was completely uncalled-for, and I apologize.”

“You don’t have to-” Schulz started.

“Yes, I do,” Kaeya interrupted.  “I know as well as anyone that you give your all to your work, and even if I think you’re a little too quick to downplay your accomplishments, that’s no excuse to speak to you like that.  I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Schulz said, smiling.  “Really, Captain.  We all have bad days.”

“It’s still not acceptable to take our bad days out on others,” Kaeya said, barely remembering to grab his papers.  “I’ll go run these estimates by Captain Hertha and leave you to your work.  Take care.”

“You, too,” Schulz said.  Wagner merely grunted, turning back to his work.

Kaeya moved away without another word, heading toward the side gate.  Once he was certain Wagner and Schulz couldn’t see him anymore he ducked around a building, leaning against it, and waited for his hands to stop shaking.

It took a lot longer than usual.  He tried not to be concerned about that.

Raymond didn’t spend a great deal of time around Sir Kaeya.  The only thing of interest on his patrol route were those two Fatui always up to no good near the waypoint, and Kaeya preferred to eavesdrop on them directly rather than rely on reports.  Raymond still listened in on their gossip whenever possible, because Kaeya was a busy man who didn’t always have time to do things the way he preferred.

So while it was uncommon for Kaeya to ask Raymond for reports, it wasn’t unusual, and no one would think twice about seeing Kaeya and Raymond talking near the windmill.

The only thing that was unusual about this meeting was the fact that Kaeya’s focus kept slipping, forcing Raymond to repeat the same points over again and making him more and more concerned with each repeat.

“Captain?”

Kaeya blinked, gaze refocusing on Raymond once more.  “Sorry, my attention wandered for a moment,” he said.  “Please, continue.”

Raymond hesitated.  “Sir,” he said, “it may not be my place, but… are you alright?”

It was generally agreed that people didn’t pry into Captain Kaeya’s affairs.  He was a man who liked his privacy, and there had to be a reason he’d spent all these years packless despite living in a city full of packs who’d be honored to have him.  The fact that he was an omega made it doubly important to respect the boundaries he set, especially for alphas like Raymond who could easily cross a line without realizing.  Normally, Raymond was very careful about holding to that general agreement.

Normally, Kaeya didn’t lose the thread of a conversation three times in as many minutes, nor did he ever let exhaustion and stress leak so clearly into his appearance and scent.

Frankly, Raymond felt a little concern was warranted.

“I’m fine, Raymond,” Kaeya assured him with a smile.  “I just didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“With respect, sir, I don’t think one rough night can account for this.”

“It… may have been more than one night,” Kaeya admitted, which was practically unheard-of.  “It’s been A Week, if you catch my meaning.  I’ll be fine.”

Raymond nodded.  A week of poor sleep plus whatever caused said sleeplessness might account for the state Kaeya was in.

“I can write up a hardcopy of this report and have it on your desk at shift change,” he offered.

Kaeya sighed, eye sliding closed for a moment before he shook himself awake again.  “That might be for the best.  Thank you, Raymond.”

“It’s no trouble, sir,” Raymond assured him.

Kaeya nodded.  He was so out of it that he wandered off without even dismissing Raymond properly.

Raymond resumed his patrol, wondering if he could talk Ms. Lisa into helping him trick Kaeya into taking a nap.  As a pack alpha, even if she wasn’t Kaeya’s pack alpha, she was probably at least as worried about the man as he was.

Kaeya managed to mostly ignore whatever was going on with him for a few more days, to the point where he barely noticed anything was wrong at all most of the time.  He could function like this, and that was good enough for him.

Right up until it wasn’t.

Up until Miles passed word that Swan wanted to speak to him and he headed down to the market district without a second thought.  Until he reached the lower plaza and caught the first heavy ring of metal-against-metal over the noise of the crowd.

He slowed as he passed the fountain, steps faltering, because the main gate was next to the smithy.  In order to speak to Swan, he’d have to walk past Wagner and Schulz.  It had only been a week; what if they were still upset with him?  What if they were upset with him all over again because he’d been avoiding them for a week?  What if he’d been avoiding them for a week and they didn’t even care?

Why was that thought so terrifying?

He moved out of the flow of traffic, trying not to stumble.  His chest felt tight and his heart was beating much too fast, his mind caught in a panicked spiral of what-ifs as the temperature began to drop around him.

No.  No, he could not lose control like this.  Not here, not in public, not with so many people watching.  He had to lock it down before anyone noticed.

The panic only fueled his Vision, unfortunately, and he could feel ice forming on his side and hip, frosting along his inner arm and over his stomach and chest, hidden by his clothing for now but not for long with the way it was spreading; if he didn’t calm the fuck down, he was going to freeze himself and half the market district solid.

Movement nearby pulled some of his attention back to his surroundings, and he looked up to see Sara rounding the counter of Good Hunter.

“Hello, Captain,” she said, taking his hand.  “Thank you for coming so promptly.  Let’s talk privately.”

Kaeya nodded, not trusting himself to speak.  Had Sara called for him?  Had he not received the message, or just forgotten it?  What was wrong with him these days?

Sara led him behind the counter and into the enclosed kitchen, empty right now with the lull between the lunch and dinner rushes, and gently pushed him onto a stool, taking both his hands in hers.

“You need to breathe, Kaeya,” she said calmly, sinking onto another stool nearby.  “Can you do that for me?  Breathe in slowly… good, now hold that… and slowly breathe out.  Good.  Breathe in… hold it… and breathe out.  That’s it, Kaeya, you’re doing wonderfully.  Again.”

He didn’t know how long he sat there staring at their hands just breathing before he finally calmed down enough to bring his Vision fully under control again and the air around him returned to its normal seasonal temperature.

“Feeling better?” Sara asked.

Kaeya nodded, reluctantly letting go of her hands.  “Where did you learn to do that?” he asked.  He should learn that.  It would probably come in handy.

“Run a restaurant for a few years,” she said, smiling. “You’ll pick up a thing or two.”

Kaeya was overcome with the sudden urge to bury his face in her shoulder and burst into tears.  Sara was such an ideal embodiment of everything betas were supposed to be: she had a softness and a warmth that invited people to let down their guard and lean on her, a solidness that said she could handle any weight they couldn’t.  She was steady and strong and loving and not his.

Kaeya wasn’t a member of Sara’s pack.  He wasn’t allowed to steal her time and warmth and care for himself.  Whatever was going on with him lately was his problem to solve, his burden to carry.  Not Sara’s.

So he shoved the urge down.  He pulled his masks back on, locked down his scent so tightly he couldn’t even smell himself, and stood.

“Thank you, Sara,” he said.  “You’re an angel, and Mondstadt’s blessed to have you.”

Sara stood as well, her smile fading.  “Are you sure you’re alright?” she asked.

“I’m fine now,” he assured her.  “Really.”

“You don’t have to be, you know,” she said.  “It’s okay to not be okay sometimes.”

“I know,” he said.

Of course it was okay for other people to not be okay.  It was okay for Sara to not be okay.  Sara was allowed to not be fine from time to time, because she had a pack to watch over her, a loving family that would never let anything hurt her no matter how vulnerable she was.

Kaeya didn’t have that luxury.

“I really am fine,” he insisted.  “It’s just been a bit of a day.”

“If you say so,” she said.  “Please look after yourself, Captain.  I worry.”

“I will,” he lied with his most charming smile.

Sara sighed like a mother who wasn’t the least bit fooled, but knew it was pointless to press the issue right now.  It reminded him a lot of Adelinde, which only made him want to cry all over her even more.  He continued to resist the urge.

Kaeya stepped back out of reach, still smiling.  “Thank you again, Sara; I’ll let you get back to your day,” he said, and made his escape while he could.

When Kaeya got back to Headquarters - report from Swan uncollected - he immediately noticed two things.

The first was Amber standing near the foot of the steps, arms crossed, frowning at the little patch of lawn next to Porthos.

The second was that half the bushes on said patch of lawn had vanished.

Kaeya stopped, studying the scene.  No scorch marks, so it wasn’t Klee this time, but who else would be involved in the theft or destruction of shrubberies?  Had Noelle gotten a little too enthusiastic with the pruning shears, or had one of Sucrose’s more mobile experiments escaped her lab again?

“I bet you had something to do with this,” Amber commented sourly, glaring suspiciously at him out of the corner of her eye, and even though Amber always looked at him like that, even though she always spoke to him in that tone, even though he usually found it cute and was completely unbothered by it, it hurt.

Everything seemed to hurt lately.

He forced himself to smile at her. “For someone so convinced I’m irredeemably lazy, you certainly do believe me guilty of a lot of things that require effort, Bun,” he said.

“Even you can’t be as lazy as you act,” she replied.  “And don’t call me Bun.”

Kaeya laughed even though he really felt more like screaming.  “I swear, on my honor as a Captain, that I had nothing to do with the disappearing bushes,” he said.  “Will that suffice to prove my innocence, or do I need to gather witnesses?”

Amber continued to glare for a moment, then turned with a disgruntled huff and stomped up the stairs and into Headquarters.

Kaeya didn't follow her.  He couldn’t make himself step inside, banter with Wood and trick Noelle into taking a break, sneak work off Jean’s desk and see if Lisa’s new tea blend had been delivered and make sure Klee wasn’t building bombs unsupervised again.  He just couldn’t.

So he turned around and headed in the opposite direction instead.

He didn’t bother actually notifying anyone that he was leaving.  That would require talking to someone, which would give them the chance to say ‘good riddance’.  He’d really prefer the sentiment remain unspoken; it was easier to ignore that way.

Everything about Angel’s Share scraped across Kaeya’s nerves like nails on a chalkboard, but he stepped inside, anyway.  As much as the noise and light and mix of scents made his head ache and his stomach turn, he couldn't bring himself to turn around and just go home.

He went straight to the bar, returning greetings thrown his way automatically without really hearing them.  He didn’t want to be here, but he wanted even less to go back to his empty apartment and his pitiful nest.  Being alone in a crowd was better than being alone by himself.

Diluc was serving tonight.  Kaeya had known he would be, which was half the reason he’d dragged himself in here to begin with.

Kaeya claimed a stool, leaning most of his weight on the bar; Diluc looked up from the glass he was cleaning with a scowl.

"What do you want?"

"Cold as ever, Master Diluc," Kaeya said with a laugh that hopefully didn't sound as empty to Diluc as it did to him. "Death After Noon, please."

Diluc scowled, but didn’t immediately kick him out, so that was something, at least.  He did ignore Kaeya long enough to serve two other people who’d approached the bar after him, because Diluc was petty like that when he was annoyed and/or frustrated.

He was petty to Kaeya a lot.  Kaeya was very careful not to let himself think about that while he waited.

Diluc finally came back with his drink, setting it in front of him and turning away even though there was no one else waiting to be served at the moment.

“The silent treatment again, Master Diluc?” Kaeya asked with a sigh, picking up his drink and taking a sip without really tasting it.  “What have I done to offend your sensibilities this time?”

Diluc snorted, but otherwise didn’t respond, pretending that wiping down the already-spotless bar required his full attention.

“You were so cute when we were kids,” Kaeya lamented.  “What happened to you?”

Diluc twitched, expression darkening in a way that said Kaeya was treading on dangerous ground.  He should drop the subject.  Stop talking.  Finish his drink and leave.  Diluc was already in a foul mood, and Kaeya was probably making it worse by existing in his general vicinity.

“If all you’re going to do is spout nonsense, you might as well not talk,” Diluc said, and Kaeya knew he needed to stop.  Diluc wasn’t in the mood and this wasn’t going to end well if he kept pushing.

But he needed to keep going.  He needed Diluc to talk to him, to acknowledge he existed, to give him anything that might fill the growing void inside him.  He’d even take anger, if that was all he could get.  If Diluc was glaring at him, he was at least looking at him.  If Diluc was yelling at him, he was at least speaking to him.

(If it felt like swallowing broken glass with a fire-water chaser, it was at least something he could feel.)

“Surely that’s no way to treat your baby brother,” he protested, covering the pain with an offended tone and a dramatic hand over his heart.  “Especially not in our father’s tavern.”

"Either shut up or get out of my tavern," Diluc snapped, stressing the possessive hard.  Not their father's tavern: Diluc’s tavern.

Where Kaeya wasn't welcome.

It was suddenly very hard to breathe.

For years now, Angel’s Share had been a refuge, a link to Crepus.  A reminder of the way the smell of aged wood and wine had clung to his hands, the soft rumble of his deep voice, the lopsided way he’d smiled whenever Diluc and Kaeya tracked half of Teyvat’s mud through the halls to show him frogs they’d caught and flowers they’d found.  The warmth of his arms and the steady thud of his heart as he patiently explained things any idiot should have known without ever judging Kaeya for his ignorance.  The feeling of comfort and security and love that had died with him.

The home they’d shared was gone, inhabited by a family of strangers.  The winery was a gauntlet of hostility and painful memory that he’d been kicked out of, anyway.  The tavern was the only place left, the last connection Kaeya had to the man who’d been his father in everything but blood, and he’d actually fooled himself into thinking he was allowed to keep it.

All this time he’d been nothing but a trespasser forcing his way into Diluc’s space, invading his territory, carving out a spot for himself like a parasite, selfishly clinging to things that had never belonged to him to begin with.

No wonder Diluc couldn’t stand him.

“Kaeya,” Diluc snapped, pulling Kaeya out of his spiraling thoughts, and he jerked to his feet just slightly too fast to pretend it hadn’t been an instinctive reaction. “What’s with you tonight?”

Kaeya stared at him for a long moment, then wordlessly pulled out his wallet and dropped a handful of coins on the bar without bothering to count them.  It was probably way too much for a single drink, but all he cared about was getting out of here without giving Diluc a reason to follow him.  He ignored the look Diluc shot him - he couldn’t tell if it was concern or disgust and he didn’t want to know - and turned away, making for the door as fast as he could without drawing even more attention to himself.

The night air felt icy cold as he stepped out into it, making him shiver.  If Patton said anything to him he didn’t hear it, already on the move again, trying to outrun the gnawing void in his chest that felt like it was trying to eat him alive from the inside.

He made it all of two blocks before he had to duck into an alley and lean heavily against the side of a building, losing his battle against his own emotions.  He sank to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably, doing his best to muffle the sound behind his hands.

In the back of his mind, beneath the sharp pain in his heart, he found room enough to wonder what the hell was wrong with him.

Chapter Text

Eula, fresh from a four-day training regimen on Dragonspine, wanted nothing so much as to take a warm shower and crawl into bed.  The warm shower, she had time for, but she’d only come down from the mountain because tonight was her weekly appointment to have dinner with Amber, so bed would have to wait.

Probably for the best; a warm shower would only do so much for her sore muscles, and she’d definitely regret going to sleep without giving them time to relax properly.

She was halfway through the maze of alleys and backstreets that led from the side gate to her apartment when all thoughts of showers, dinner, and bed were driven out of her mind, replaced by a soft chanting instinct urging her to comfort defend protect, comfort defend protect, comfort defend protect.

She stopped, closing her eyes, and breathed in deeply through her nose, because only scent could pull on her instincts that strongly without her consciously noting it.

At first, she could only smell moss and wine and philanemo mushrooms.  Wood varnish.  A hint of decaying leaves.  Turned soil.  Stale sweat.

Calla lilies and ice.

Kaeya.

As soon as she identified the scent, her instincts went from chanting to shouting, and she turned on her heel and took off running.

She heard him before she saw him, heavy, gasping sobs that resonated painfully in her chest, making her move faster than was strictly safe in the dark because Kaeya was somewhere ahead of her and in pain and she needed to find him and protect him from who or whatever had hurt him so badly.

She was running so fast that she almost missed him, curled up against the wall of a side alley, his whole body shaking with how hard he was crying.

Eula checked her momentum and hurried over, dropping to her knees next to him.  He looked terrible, like he hadn’t eaten or slept properly in weeks, hunched in on himself with both hands pressed against his mouth as if trying to muffle his sobs.

She’d overheard some of the Knights talking about how Kaeya seemed unwell lately, but that had in no way prepared her for this.

“Kaeya?”

Kaeya twitched, but otherwise didn’t react.

“Kaeya, what’s wrong?”

Who hurt you? her instincts demanded.  Who do I have to punish for making you cry?

Kaeya only shook his head, hunching further in on himself, which meant there was only one course of action for Eula to take.

Kaeya was one of the strongest, most resilient people she knew, someone most of the city loved or looked up to or both, a cunning and resourceful man and one of the few people she truly considered a friend, and here he was sobbing into his hands like a child, looking lost and hopeless and alone.  Eula knew he disliked what he viewed as ‘coddling’ outside of his heats, but she was only human, and not nearly cold-hearted enough to leave him like this.

She could apologize later, if she had to.

She slipped one arm behind his back, hooking the other under his knees, and stood.  Kaeya didn’t even seem to notice.  She needed to get him somewhere safe, somewhere she could protect him, so she could find out what was wrong and fix it, because Kaeya in this state was something that absolutely needed fixing.

She began carrying him further down the alley, rather than out into the street.  It wasn’t all that late, and there were plenty of people still out and about; Eula highly doubted Kaeya would want anyone else to see him like this.

Either she or Kaeya had terrible luck tonight, because they reached the back of Angel’s Share just as the door opened and Diluc stepped outside, shrugging on his coat.

Eula didn’t bother trying to hide.  Diluc was almost as hypervigilant as she was, and Kaeya wasn’t exactly being quiet at the moment.

Sure enough, he turned toward them immediately, frowning.  His gaze snapped down to Kaeya, frown deepening, and he started walking quickly toward them.  “What happened?” he demanded.

Kaeya flinched away from him, just slightly, his scent souring with hurt and a bitter undercurrent of fear that dragged a harsh warning growl up Eula’s throat.  She was half a step away from a protective rage as it was, and only the sobbing omega in her arms kept her from reaching for her claymore to drive the warning home.

Wisely, Diluc backed up several hasty steps, well out of Eula’s way.

Eula stalked past him, turning slightly to put herself between Kaeya and Diluc as a physical barrier.  Intellectually, she knew Diluc wasn’t going to attack them, but her instincts were in a state of barely-holding-onto-reason overdrive that demanded he be treated as a threat regardless.

She could feel the heat of his gaze burning along her spine, but she ignored it.  A problem for later, once Kaeya was safe.

After a few more minutes of walking, Eula came to an intersection where one way led deeper into the network of alleys and the other to the main road, and stopped.  She had a decision to make.

She could continue sticking to the alleyways and empty backstreets, keep Kaeya from prying eyes, and take him to her own apartment.  Her apartment was her fortress, familiar territory that she could easily defend.  Kaeya would be completely safe there.

But Kaeya wouldn’t feel safe there.  He’d never been to her apartment.  It was completely unknown to him.  He needed familiarity to feel safe.  He needed his own apartment, his own space, and she knew Mondstadt well enough to know that there was no way to reach it without using the main roads at least part of the way.

In the end, it was an easy decision to make.  Nothing was more important than calming Kaeya down.  If anyone wanted to make an issue of things… well.  She was still an alpha.  Let anything less than a pack alpha with a greater claim to Kaeya try and stop her.  See how well that ended for them.

Kaeya hiccuped, and Eula crooned absently to soothe him as she stepped out into the open.  Luckily, only a few people actually saw them on the way to Kaeya’s apartment; only one person was foolish enough to actually approach them, and he backed off after a single sharp glare.

She mounted the steps she’d climbed with Kaeya… had it only been a month ago, when she’d joined him for his last heat?  Had he really deteriorated this much in a month, or had she just not noticed earlier signs?

Things like this didn’t happen out of the blue.  There had to have been signs.  How could she call herself Kaeya’s friend if she hadn’t seen them?

Eula shook her head sharply, dismissing her self-pity as she reached the apartment door, managing to open the door without jostling Kaeya too much and slipping inside.

She shoved the door closed with her foot, then hesitated again.  A temporary nest in the living room was all well and good for a normal heat, but she doubted it would be of any use at all for the state Kaeya was currently in.  He needed his real nest, his den, his sacred space which she had never been allowed into, and which she would never enter uninvited.

“Kaeya,” she said, glancing down at the man in her arms who’d always seemed so strong and self-assured but now seemed so fragile, “I need permission to enter your den.”

Kaeya, eye glassy and expression lost, nodded slowly.  “Don’t be mad,” he said nonsensically.

“I won’t,” Eula promised immediately, carrying him down the hall to the bedroom door and getting it open.

Kaeya’s room was bare bones and sparsely furnished, with only a dresser, a nightstand, a reading chair by the window, and a bed which was obviously also Kaeya’s nest.

She wasn’t entirely sure if there even were blankets under the sheer amount of things in that nest.  She could immediately identify one of little Klee’s dresses, a sweater Captain Hertha had misplaced last winter, what she could swear was Master Varka’s old campaign cloak, even one of her own ties.

Kaeya’s request that she not be mad suddenly made a great deal more sense.

An omega’s nest normally carried at least hints of the scents of those who’d contributed to its construction material, since items would normally be replaced as the scent they carried faded, but even standing right next to the bed, all Eula could scent was Kaeya.

She set Kaeya down in the middle of the mess and pulled off the cape she was currently wearing, saturated with her scent, and draped it over him.  He clung to it like a shipwrecked survivor clinging to flotsam while she carefully stripped him down to his shirt and trousers.  The sight filled her with pride and an unexpected anger: pride that Kaeya so readily accepted her offering, and anger that he was in such a state that he needed it.

Only the gods knew how she managed to not turn feral from that alone.

She moved to stand; before she’d done more than shift her weight, Kaeya grabbed her sleeve with one hand, staring up at her with wide-eyed anxiety for a moment before he looked down and forced himself to let go.

“Thank you for getting me home,” he said quietly, struggling to not sound as if he was still crying and failing miserably.  “I’ll return your cape tomorrow.  Good- good night, Captain Eula.”

It was reflex, almost, to fall back on indignation; she refrained, biting back a vow of vengeance for assuming she would be callous enough to leave him like this.  Kaeya was obviously not in a state of mind to recognize banter for banter, and would probably mistake it for genuine anger.

She would rather die than allow him to think she was angry at him right now.

“I’m going to get you some water,” she said instead.  “I’ll be right back.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I know,” she interrupted,  “I want to.  I’ll be right back, Kaeya.”

She moved to stand again.  This time he let her.  As she turned toward the door, she saw him discover her Vision still clipped to her cape; he shuddered and relaxed, just a little.  He knew she was coming back now.  He knew she’d never leave her Vision, even if he didn’t seem to know that she wouldn't leave him.

Again, Eula could only marvel at the fact that the sight didn’t send her feral.

After the borderline sterility of Kaeya’s bedroom, the homey clutter of the apartment beyond it was a bit jarring.  The bedroom hadn’t even had a single painting hung on the walls or so much as a forgotten book on top of the dresser; the living room was hung with multiple paintings, books and toys and other evidence of living scattered throughout, a spare blanket tossed over the back of the couch and framed kamera prints on the bookshelf.

None of the prints had Kaeya in them.  She wondered how she could have never noticed that before.

The kitchen, with its long wooden table and eight chairs and hutch full of mismatched dishes, also felt like it belonged in a different apartment than the bedroom.  It was well-stocked with snacks for an energetic toddler and ingredients for proper meals, but no leftovers or other evidence that any proper meals had been made recently.

Eula dug out a tray, loading it down with snacks.  She considered the cabinet of wine bottles and harder liquors for a long moment, then decided against it; alcohol was probably the last thing Kaeya needed right now.  She filled a carafe with water instead, adding it and two glasses to the tray before carrying it back to the bedroom.

Kaeya hadn’t moved while she was gone; he was still curled up under her cape, one hand clutching her Vision so tightly his knuckles showed white through his skin.

She set the tray on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed, hesitating a moment before gently running her fingers through his hair, flooding her scent with protectiveness because that was the softest a Lawrence alpha was allowed to be.  Kaeya leaned into her hand slightly, still crying, but less desperately, slowly starting to calm down under as much comfort as Eula knew how to give him.

“He hates me,” Kaeya said dully after several long minutes of silence.  “I know he does.  I know, and it- it usually hurts, but-” He sobbed like a broken-hearted child, closing his eye and curling in on himself.  “I-it usually doesn’t hurt like this.”

Eula knew immediately who ‘he’ must be, and she regretted now that all she had done was growl at Diluc.  It wasn’t her place, it wasn’t proper for her to feel such protectiveness over someone who wasn’t a member of her pack.  Kaeya wasn’t hers to claim in any way.  She was a colleague to him, an alpha he occasionally spent his heats with when all the better options were unavailable, and nothing more.  She knew that.

But Barbatos help her, if Diluc Ragnvyndr were in the room right now, she would gladly have killed him for putting Kaeya in this state.

“I- I don’t understand,” Kaeya said, bewildered and lost in a way Kaeya should never be.  “I don’t- it shouldn’t hurt this bad, it- I don’t know what’s- w-what’s wrong with me.”

“Nothing is wrong with you,” Eula assured him, and wished she had some way to contact someone who was closer to Kaeya without leaving him alone.  She was out of her depth, she had no more idea of what was wrong than Kaeya did, and he probably wouldn’t believe anything she said right now anyway, because they weren’t packmates.

But Kaeya didn’t have a pack.  Everyone knew that.  Kaeya was an anomaly, an outlier, a person who’d been without a pack for four years now with no ill effects.

Well.  No visible ill effects.

Eula was no expert, but she was pretty sure that the state Kaeya was in at the moment was a fair indication that something was wrong.

“Nothing is wrong with you,” she repeated, holding back an overprotective feral state with willpower alone.  “I’m here.  I’ll take care of you.  Sleep for now.”

It was a measure of how exhausted and shaken Kaeya was that he didn’t even attempt to argue.  He just curled up around a ragged coat - a ragged black coat that had likely belonged to Diluc at one point, and it took every ounce of self-restraint she’d ever possessed to not tear it out of the nest and throw it in the garbage where it and its former owner belonged - and obeyed.

Eula peeled off her boots, leaving them on the floor, and pulled her legs up into the nest; technically it wasn’t proper to not ask permission first, but she refused to wake Kaeya just as much as she refused to leave him alone.

She laid down, shifting as little as possible to get comfortable so that she didn’t disturb Kaeya’s rest.  Once she was settled, she slipped her arms around him and carefully pulled him close, surrounding him with her scent and warmth, and let herself drift off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Eula woke the next morning to the sound of someone pounding on the apartment door.

She growled, disentangling herself from Kaeya, who whined softly but otherwise didn't protest; she made sure to tuck her cape back around him, then stormed barefoot out of the bedroom.  She stomped down the hall and across the living room to the door, unlocking it and yanking it open.

“What?” she snarled, then immediately regretted it when she found herself face-to-face with Amber.

Amber blinked up at her, fist still raised to continue knocking.  “Is this where you’ve been since last night?” she demanded.

“Yes,” Eula said shortly.  “Am I needed for something?”

“We were supposed to meet for dinner at Good Hunter,” Amber reminded her, finally lowering her hand.  “You never showed up.  I was worried.”

Eula flushed with embarrassment.  In her worry over Kaeya, that had completely slipped her mind.  “My apologies, Amber,” she said sincerely.  “Something came up.”

“Something with Kaeya?” Amber asked.

“Yes.”

“What’s going on, Eula?”

Eula felt inexplicably calmer, even knowing that Amber didn’t like Kaeya.  She should be suspecting Amber’s motive for asking and trying to push her out so she could get back to Kaeya, to keep Amber away so she didn’t upset him, but she wasn’t.

Maybe it was because Amber was a beta.  Betas tended to be very steadying; they could even calm down distressed omegas, sometimes better than an alpha could.

Eula’s eyes widened at the sudden thought, and she grabbed Amber’s wrist, pulling her inside.

Amber was a beta, and betas were sometimes better for distressed omegas than alphas, and Kaeya was very, very distressed right now.

“Eula, what-”

Eula dragged her all the way to the bedroom door, then came to her senses enough to realize dragging her into Kaeya’s den without permission would be wildly inappropriate.

“Wait here,” she said, ducking inside and shutting the door behind her.  “Kaeya?”

Kaeya opened his eye, propping himself up on one elbow.

“May I have permission to bring Amber into your den?”

Kaeya tensed, his scent flooding with anxiety before going near undetectable.  He reached out without looking, hand closing around a slightly singed red headband and shoving it under the pillows.

“Of course,” he said, and it was heartbreaking, the way he tried (and failed) to pull his masks back on.

“You can say no, Kaeya,” Eula reminded him, struggling not to frown, to keep her anger and frustration from seeping into her scent.  No omega should feel as if they had to allow someone into their den, or as if they needed to put on an act for anyone they deemed worthy of that high honor.

But it wasn’t Kaeya’s fault if he did feel those things, and the last thing she wanted was for him to misunderstand who she was angry at and why, so she shoved it down and locked it away like a good alpha.

“It’s fine,” Kaeya insisted, sitting up fully and pulling Eula’s cape off his shoulder, setting it aside.

Eula crossed the room and picked up the cape,  draping it over him again.  Then she went back to the door and opened it.  “Come in,” she said.

Amber entered like she was walking into enemy territory.  Her sharp gaze flicked around the room, taking in what little there was to see before settling on Kaeya.  He failed to meet her eyes, one hand curling unconsciously around the edge of Eula’s cape as if he feared Amber might take it away.

As if he feared Amber might take it away and Eula would let her.

Had Kaeya always distrusted them this way?  Was that another thing she’d failed to see despite claiming to care about him?

“Good morning, Outrider Amber,”  Kaeya said, pulling Eula out of her thoughts.  His voice was rough from sleep and from crying, in a way that made Eula wince inwardly and Amber wince outwardly (not that Kaeya seemed to notice).  “How can I help you?”

Amber stared at him.  “What happened?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Kaeya said immediately, smiling.  It was painful, how obviously fake it was.  “I just got a little over-emotional last night, that’s all.  I’m fine now.”

“Like hell you are,” Amber replied, frowning.  Kaeya flinched from her tone, and she winced.  “I didn’t mean that how it sounded,” she said hurriedly.  “I’m not mad at you, Kaeya.”

“You’re always mad at me,” Kaeya disagreed.  He probably intended it to sound flippant, but it just came out wounded instead.

Amber sighed and crossed to the bed.  Without so much as asking permission, much less waiting to receive it, she climbed right into Kaeya’s nest, pressing their shoulders together with Eula’s cape between them.

“I’m not mad at you, Kaeya,” she repeated gently, wrapping her arms loosely around his waist.  “I get annoyed at you a lot, but that’s different than being mad at you, and right now I’m not mad or annoyed.”

Kaeya stared down at Amber as if he had no idea what was happening or how to respond to it, and it broke Eula’s heart all over again: she remembered that bewilderment all too well from her first few months as Amber’s pack.

“I’m not mad at you,” Amber said again.

Kaeya lifted his arms, hesitating a long moment before wrapping them around Amber’s shoulders.  Then, to Eula’s horror, he started to cry again, clinging to Amber like a drowning man and hiding his face in her hair.

Amber tightened her arms around Kaeya and flooded the room with the scent of woodsmoke and violetgrass.  If she was at all alarmed or surprised, she didn’t show it, rubbing one hand up and down his back and crooning softly while Eula stood awkwardly by the door not sure what to do with herself.  Thankfully, Kaeya’s tears only lasted for a few agonizing minutes this time before they tapered off.

“Do you want Eula?” Amber asked as if speaking to a frightened child.  Kaeya nodded without lifting his head; Amber freed one hand and held it out to Eula.

Eula stepped up to the bed, taking Amber’s hand and letting herself be pulled back into the nest.  Kaeya turned toward her, catching Amber’s sleeve with one hand but putting most of his weight on Eula.  

Amber guided Kaeya over until he was leaning all of his weight on Eula, then she reached up, undoing her headband.  She gently pried Kaeya’s fingers off her sleeve, wrapping the headband loosely around his hand; Kaeya immediately lifted it to his face, inhaling Amber’s scent.

“I’m going to go tell Master Jean what’s happened,” Amber said quietly.  “I’ll get leave for both of you.  Do- Kaeya, do you want me to take leave, too?”

“You don’t have to,” he said even as he nodded slightly, so unlike the Kaeya Eula knew that it scared her, a little.

“Okay,” Amber said.  “I’ll take leave, too.  Is there anyone else you want?”  When Kaeya hesitated, biting his lip, she added, “I’ll make sure they know they don’t have to come.”

Kaeya hesitated a moment longer before answering.  “Bennett,” he said finally.  “And Klee.  If it’s alright with Albedo.”

Amber nodded.  “I’ll come back as soon as I’m done,” she said, climbing out of the nest. “I promise.”

Kaeya nodded against Eula’s shoulder, and Amber left with one final backward glance before she softly closed the door.

Eula sighed and flopped backwards onto the pillows, bringing Kaeya with her.

“Let’s get some more sleep,” she suggested, for lack of any better ideas.  Kaeya’s head probably hurt like Andrius’s fury by now, anyway.

Kaeya nodded, curling up against her, still clinging to Amber’s headband and Eula’s shirt, and closed his eyes.

Neither of them actually slept, but it was still restful, lying there just existing together.  Eula could only hope it did Kaeya as much good as it did her.

In theory, Kaeya had regular working hours.  In theory, so did Jean.  In practice, their regular working hours woefully under-represented how much time they actually spent working.

So while in theory Kaeya wasn’t expected in his office for another two hours, in practice he should have already been hard at work at least an hour ago.

Jean didn’t begrudge Kaeya a morning off, but he never took one without warning her in advance, or at least sending word through one of the Knights that he’d be late.  She wasn’t necessarily worried yet, but it was unusual enough to stay on her mind as she went about her own work.

As Kaeya’s theoretical working hours drew closer, however, she couldn’t help but start to worry.  Just a bit.

She was debating stopping by Kaeya’s apartment to make certain he was okay when Amber appeared in her office doorway radiating nervousness and concern.

“Good morning, Master Jean.”

“Good morning, Amber,” Jean replied automatically, setting her quill down.  “Can I help you with something?”

Amber nodded, crossing to stand in front of the desk.  “I’d like to request indefinite leave for Captain Kaeya, Captain Eula, and myself.”

“All three of you?”

Amber nodded.  “Eula's with Kaeya now, and I promised him I'd be right back,” she said.  “He's in bad shape.  He- he cried, Master Jean.  I hugged him, and he started crying.”

Jean stiffened, her blood running cold.  In the entire time she'd known Kaeya, she'd only seen him cry twice; she didn’t want to even think about him going through anything bad enough to bring him to tears again.

“What’s wrong?" she asked urgently. "Do you know?”

Amber shook her head.  “Eula doesn’t know, either.  Whatever it is, it has him in a real state.”

“It’s pack neglect.”

Amber jumped at the sudden interruption, and so did Jean.  They turned as one to the office door to see Lisa standing there, expression unusually somber.  She stepped further inside, letting the door swing shut behind her, and crossed to stand next to Amber.

“He’s suffering from advanced pack neglect.”

“But Kaeya doesn’t have a pack,” Amber protested.

Lisa smiled a pained little smile, guilt and sorrow heavy in her scent.  “Kaeya has the largest pack I’ve ever heard of,” she disagreed.  “And to my shame - all our shame - none of the other members have any idea it even exists.”

“What do you mean?” Jean demanded.

“My dear Master Jean,” Lisa said, “the entire City of Mondstadt is Sir Kaeya’s pack, and he’s spent the last few years killing himself trying to serve it.”

Albedo had just finished going over the results from Sucrose’s latest experiment with her when the door to the laboratory opened and Jean stepped inside, bringing Lisa with her.  He set aside his notes, fully aware that the Acting Grand Master wouldn’t intrude without good cause, and stood.

“Master Jean,” he said, nodding a greeting.  “What brings you here?”

Jean sighed, folding her hands behind her back.  “Captain Albedo,” she said formally, “I need permission to give Spark Knight Klee a special assignment.”

Albedo blinked, surprised.  Usually, Jean didn’t bother to ask.  She knew the Knights had blanket permission to give Klee assignments as needed, so long as she was accompanied by at least one adult Knight.

“What sort of special assignment?” he asked.

Jean glanced beseechingly at Lisa, which was also unusual.  Despite Jean being a beta and Lisa her pack alpha, Jean had never ceded her responsibilities to Lisa that Albedo knew of.

“Albedo, dear,” Lisa said, “do you know what pack neglect is?”

Albedo frowned.  “A physiological state in which a person receives inadequate care from their pack, taking a toll on their physical and mental health,” he answered, unsure what relevance the question had but knowing it was relevant nonetheless.  “It manifests primarily in pack alphas and pack omegas who are not accorded proper reciprocal care for their function within the pack.  Symptoms include emotional instability, insomnia, feelings of anxiety and paranoia, extreme sensitivity to rejection or anger from their packmates - actual or perceived - and occasionally self-destructive behavior and suicidal ideation.”

Lisa nodded.  “Sir Kaeya is currently experiencing an advanced state of pack neglect,” she said.

“I was not aware that Kaeya had a pack,” Albedo admitted, his frown deepening.  Kaeya was a good friend, to the point that Albedo would have welcomed Kaeya into his own pack gladly; for someone or several someones to have formed a pack with the man and then forced him into advanced pack neglect was… upsetting.

“None of us were,” Jean said, sighing.  “Lisa has a theory that makes… altogether too much sense, however little I like it.”

“Have you ever found Kaeya interfering with quarrels within your pack?” Lisa asked, oddly intent given her usual demeanor.  “Or noticed him stepping in to mediate issues you might be having with other packs?  Or found that his heat just happens to coincide with a period of agitation or frustration on your part?”

“Yes,” Sucrose spoke up quietly.  “I- the last time my experimental equipment endangered Ms. Eula in the field, he- the next day, Sir Kaeya’s heat started while he was here confirming part of the report.”

Albedo remembered that.  He and Timaeus had spent those three days out of the city entirely, as Sucrose’s pack alpha being present during an unrelated omega’s heat would have been unduly stressful for all parties involved.  The inconvenience had been worth it, however; Sucrose had remained in high spirits for weeks afterwards, showing much greater confidence in herself and her work, and Albedo recalled thinking that it was a shame that their pack didn’t include an omega who could give her that support more regularly.

“He has often interceded when I’ve misstepped in social interactions, and twice his heats have begun whilst visiting me on Dragonspine when my research has hit a roadblock,” Albedo added.  There was a sick feeling growing in his chest.  “Are you suggesting that the Knights are Kaeya’s pack?”

“Would that it were only that bad,” Lisa said, sighing.

Sucrose parsed her meaning first.  “Surely you don’t mean the whole city is Sir Kaeya’s pack!”

Lisa regarded them in heavy silence more resounding than any vocal yes could be.

“Kaeya’s asked for Klee,” Jean said.  “We have no idea how long he’ll be in this state, so I can’t give you an end date, and she’ll likely need to remain with him for most or all of that period, however long it might be.  I’m choosing to afford all parties involved special assignment status rather than leave because of this.”

“I understand,” Albedo said.  “You have full permission.  And please inform Kaeya that I am willing to join him at any time, should he wish to call for me.”

Jean nodded.  “I’ll be sure the message is passed along,” she promised.  “Thank you.”

“Master Jean,” Sucrose said, taking off her hat and holding it out.  “Please give this to Sir Kaeya.”

“Very clever, Sucrose,” Lisa praised as she accepted it, smiling.  “I’ll be certain it gets to him.”

It really was clever; while scent therapy couldn’t cure pack neglect, it did help to alleviate the symptoms somewhat, and anything of theirs currently in Kaeya’s possession was undoubtedly completely washed of scent by now.

Albedo stood, going to the wardrobe and pulling out one of the spare coats he kept there in case of lab accidents or explosions.  He removed the coat he was wearing and replaced it with the fresh one; Lisa collected the old one without a word and followed Jean out.

Once they were gone, Albedo retrieved his notebook, turning to Sucrose and flipping to a clean page.

“You’re more versed in this area than I,” he said.  “Can you think of anything else that might be of help to Kaeya right now?”

Chapter Text

Bennett spent a lot of time at Kaeya’s apartment, so much that it felt like basically a second home.  No matter what time it was or what sort of mess he’d stumbled into, Kaeya’s door had always been open to him, and Bennett knew he wasn’t the only one.  Everyone in Mondstadt went in and out of Kaeya’s apartment all the time; that was just how things were.

He’d never stopped to think about it before, but honestly it was a little bit weird.  Like Kaeya’s apartment wasn’t really Kaeya’s.   Like the place actually belonged to the city as a whole, and Kaeya just lived there.

For the first time since meeting Kaeya, Bennett actually felt like he was intruding when he stepped in the front door holding Klee’s hand with an overstuffed knapsack on his back.

The bag was full of the weirdest assortment of random stuff.  When Amber had shown up at the Guild and explained to Master Cyrus what was happening, she’d said the words ‘pack neglect’ and Cyrus and his dads had gotten real worked up.  All of them had insisted on giving Bennett a shirt or a scarf or anything else they could grab before they’d let Amber drag him off to go pick up Klee.

He still wasn’t completely sure what was going on.  All he knew was that Kaeya was hurt somehow and had asked for him specifically, and that was all he needed to know right now.  Everything else could wait until Kaeya was taken care of.

Amber, carrying a bag of her own, followed them in and closed the door.  Bennett knew which room was Kaeya’s by process of elimination - he’d been in Klee’s room and crashed in the guest room a few times, and there were only three rooms to choose from - so he headed straight for it with Klee trotting along beside him.

Kaeya’s bedroom was… weirdly empty, like one of the hostel rooms at the Guild where people stayed for a night or two at most before heading out on their next adventure.  It definitely didn’t look like a room that actually belonged to a person, aside from the nest.

There were two people in the nest; one was Kaeya, and the other was Captain Eula.  Bennett had never actually met her before, and usually he thought she was sort of intimidating, but he immediately ignored her without really meaning to as soon as he saw Kaeya, because Kaeya looked absolutely awful in a way that made Bennett’s pack omega instincts start screaming.

He let go of Klee’s hand, dropping his bag on the floor, and hurried across the room to the bed, jumping on it without bothering to kick off his shoes first.  He threw his arms around Kaeya, pressing against his side.

“Hey, Cap,” he said.

“Hey, Benny,” Kaeya replied.  He even sounded awful, and the hand he patted Bennett’s head with was shaking.

Klee shrugged off her backpack and climbed up onto the bed, too, throwing herself into Kaeya’s lap.  Kaeya wrapped his arms around her with a ghost of his usual smile for her.

“Hey, Klee.”

“Hi,” Klee said into Kaeya’s chest.  “Miss Amber said you’re feeling icky.”

“Miss Amber knows what she’s talking about.”

Amber snorted softly, collecting discarded bags and carrying them over to the bed.  Bennett knew she didn’t really get along with Kaeya, but the exasperation in her scent was almost fond as she started emptying the bags into the nest, filling it with fresh scents.

“Anything I can do to help?”  Bennett asked.

Kaeya sighed, leaning against him.  Captain Eula scooted away slightly, and Amber inserted herself into the space pressed against Kaeya’s other side.  That meant Captain Eula was on the outside, between everyone else and the door, where she could protect them if anyone or anything unfriendly got in.  Kaeya’s state must have been setting off her instincts the same way it was setting off Bennett’s.

“I don’t know, Benny,” Kaeya answered after a long moment.  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Nothing’s wrong with you,” Amber insisted firmly, rubbing her cheek against Kaeya’s shoulder.  “You’re just hurting, and that’s not your fault.”

“How is it not my fault?” Kaeya asked with a bitter laugh, tears welling up in his eye, which was super worrying because Kaeya never cried.  “Who else’s fault can it be I’m such a shit omega that I can’t- I can’t even be useful without falling apart?  You’re sweet, Amber, but I think I know who’s responsible for my own worthlessness.”

Bennett went cold all over, because that?  That was bad talk.  That was “omega who’s never learned they’re a person first” talk.  That was “make Benny want to hunt down whoever taught you to think that way and light them on fire” talk.

He thought he got what Amber meant by pack neglect now.

“Hey,” Bennett said, reaching up to brush away the tears, remembering all the times Kaeya had been there for him when he’d felt like he was breaking under the strain of supporting his pack and wondering if anyone had ever been there for Kaeya like that.  “We’re not supposed to just be useful, remember?  We’re supposed to love and be loved.  It’s supposed to be a mutual thing.  It’s not your fault your pack hasn’t been taking care of you in return.”

Kaeya frowned, brow furrowing in clear confusion.  “I don’t have a pack,” he said.

Oh.

It was even worse than they’d thought.

Amber left again at some point in the afternoon, to get her and Eula clean clothes and order dinner.  She’d been gone for maybe an hour when someone started pounding on Kaeya’s front door again.

(He really wished they’d stop doing that.  It wasn’t like he ever locked the damn thing in the first place.)

Eula growled and stood, waving off Bennett’s hesitant offer to go see who it was for her, and stalked out of the room.  Kaeya felt a sharp twinging pain in his chest as soon as she was out of his sight, but he resisted the urge to call her back.  Instead he concentrated on Klee and Bennett’s warmth and told himself she would be back on her own.

After a moment, the sound of arguing drifted down the hall and through the half-open bedroom door.  Kaeya frowned, carefully shifting Klee into Bennett’s lap.

“Kaeya-” Bennett protested, biting his lip.

Kaeya motioned for him to be quiet, slipping out of the room and to the end of the hall so that he could see the foyer.

Eula was standing at the open front door radiating protective fury, arguing with someone. An irate someone, taller than her, dressed in black, with very red hair.

She was arguing with Diluc.

He caught the barest edge of Diluc’s scent under Eula’s sharp anger, and it made his knees almost buckle.  Normally he didn’t let Diluc’s scent affect him outwardly, but he was such a mess at the moment that he couldn't help it.  Diluc was here and he was angry and Kaeya wanted nothing more than to get between Diluc and Eula and soothe them, to soothe Diluc, and he was so ashamed of that urge.  Diluc had already made it very clear that he wanted nothing to do with Kaeya.  He’d be disgusted if he knew what Kaeya was feeling.  Diluc hated him.

So why was Diluc here?

“Why are you here?” Kaeya asked, his voice cutting through the argument and making Diluc and Eula turn to him.

“Why is she here?” Diluc retorted, pointing at Eula, who growled at him.

“I’m taking care of him,” she snapped.  “Which is more than you’ve ever done.”

“What would you know about what I’ve done?” Diluc demanded.

“More than enough to know you have no right to be here,” Eula said in a low, warning tone.

“I don’t have to take that from a Lawrence,” Diluc said, spitting the name like it was poison.

“At least a Lawrence would never abandon their omega,” she spat back.

“Will both of you please stop?” Kaeya asked, more plaintive than forceful, but they at least backed down on the posturing.  “Thank you.  Eula, can you give us a minute?”

Eula gave a wordless noise of protest, allspice and protectiveness sharpening in her scent.

“Please?  You’ll be right down the hall, and if he so much as looks at me in a way I don’t like, I’ll call for you,” he promised.

Eula growled, glaring at Diluc.  “Fine,” she said.  “But if he hurts you again, vengeance will be mine.”

It was the most sincere threat he’d ever heard out of her.

Once Eula had stalked into the bedroom and closed the door most of the way, Kaeya sighed and sank down on the couch.

“Why are you here, Diluc?” he asked again.

Diluc stood awkwardly just inside the front door for several seconds before kicking it closed and moving further inside, standing even more awkwardly in the middle of the living room.  “I- I heard that you were ill.”

“And you wanted to make sure I wasn’t faking it?”

“No,” Diluc snapped, actually looking offended.  “I saw you last night, you- that wasn’t feigned.  I just- I was concerned.”

“It’s not contagious,” Kaeya assured him, closing his eyes and massaging his temple, trying to ease the headache forming there.

“That isn’t-” Diluc broke off, growling, frustration rolling off him in ash-scented waves.

Kaeya forced himself not to react.

“Kaeya?” Diluc asked from much closer than he was a moment ago.  Kaeya jumped, opening his eyes again.  “Are you alright?”

Diluc actually looked concerned, and he’d never been much of a liar.

“I’m fine,” Kaeya said, because he’d always been a very good liar.

Diluc scowled at him.  “No, you aren’t,” he disagreed.  “Can you not be honest with me even now?”

He lifted a hand, reaching toward Kaeya, and Kaeya flinched away so violently he almost fell off the couch.

“I wasn’t going to hit you,” Diluc snapped indignantly, which did not help Kaeya’s pounding heart at all.

“You say that like it’s a ridiculous notion.”

“It is!”

“The last time you touched me voluntarily,” Kaeya reminded him, “you were trying to kill me.”

“What?”

The interjection came, not from Diluc or the bedroom, but from the front door.   It was accompanied by the sharp warning crackle of Electro energy.

Lisa stood in the doorway with an anxious Amber peeking over her shoulder, carrying a to-go box from Good Hunter and wearing an expression normally reserved for people who carelessly damaged her books.

“You need to leave now, Master Diluc,” she said firmly, purple sparks dancing up and down her arms and around her hands.

Diluc had always been a smart man.  He was stubborn, but he was smart.  He knew what Lisa was capable of.  He gave Kaeya a look that clearly said he didn’t think this conversation was finished, then got out while he could.

Lisa set the box of food down on the coffee table and immediately sat next to Kaeya, pulling off her glove and laying her bare hand on the back of his neck.  She used the hold to coax him into leaning against her, crooning softly under her breath.  She’d always been so good at figuring out what Kaeya needed without him having to ask for it, even when Kaeya himself didn’t know what he needed.

Kaeya buried his face in her shoulder, inhaling her roses and burning ozone scent mixed with the aged paper and fresh ink scent of her domain, and let himself be soothed.

She didn’t ask.  She’d obviously heard what he’d said, but she didn’t ask about it.  Not yet.  He was thankful for that.

Amber slipped away, returning shortly with Bennett, Eula, and Klee.  Eula openly glared at Lisa as soon as she saw her, but made no move to actually challenge her.

Eula was, after all, a very intelligent alpha who knew a fight she couldn't win when she saw one.

Amber vanished again, returning with a tray of dishes, silverware, and glasses, taking over as host even though that was meant to be Kaeya’s job.  He thought about protesting, but couldn’t muster up the energy; talking to Diluc had been even more draining than usual, and all he really felt like doing was going back to bed.

With Amber badgering him and Klee to set an example for, however, Kaeya didn’t really have much choice about eating.  The meal was probably above and beyond Sara’s already high standard, but he didn’t actually taste any of it; he ate as little as Eula and Lisa would let him, then buried his face in Lisa’s shoulder again until everyone else had eaten their fill.

Amber and Bennett insisted on being the ones to clear away the dishes and put away the leftovers; Lisa and Eula prevented Kaeya from helping by herding him back into the bedroom, pushing him back into his nest, and dropping Klee in his lap with firm instructions to the little menace to not let him go anywhere.

Eula took up her post on the outside edge of the nest again, while Lisa flopped down on Kaeya’s other side and immediately started carding her fingers through his hair.  When Amber and Bennett caught up with them, Amber resumed her spot sandwiched between him and Eula, but Bennett chose to wedge himself into the space between Lisa and the wall.

(Kaeya didn’t blame him: Lisa was quite possibly the safest, most comforting alpha Kaeya had ever met.  Her only real competition was Crepus, and Kaeya freely admitted that he was far too biased to objectively pick between the two.)

“Comfy?” Lisa asked, and Kaeya nodded.

“Jean will be jealous,” he commented, smiling slightly at Lisa’s answering scoff.

“Jean knows better,” she disagreed.  “She wanted to come herself, you know,” she added, more seriously. “I told her any more officers at your beck and call would make you feel guilty.”

It would have, in all honesty.  He already had a Captain, an Outrider, a Knight, and now a librarian in his nest: he was disrupting enough work as it was.

“None of that now,” Lisa admonished him as if she could read his thoughts, yawning into the back of her hand.  “You just nap off that fine meal and let us take care of you.”

Kaeya was at least as smart as Diluc and Eula: he obeyed.

Chapter Text

Kaeya received more visitors over the next three weeks than he had in the three years since he’d first moved into this apartment.

Well, technically that wasn’t true.  Strictly speaking, he’d never gone more than a few days at a time without someone dropping by.  But all of those people had been there because they wanted something from him, be it his time, his expertise, or just a sympathetic ear.  Everyone who’d shown up at his apartment door for the past three years had been there for themselves, not him.

It was different when they were there for him.

Anthony usually wound up at Kaeya’s door every two or three weeks to vent his frustration over his sister’s illness and how little he could do to actually help her.  This time, he showed up with Anna in tow and a care package that included one of their mother’s knitted blankets, saturated with scents from their entire family.  They couldn’t stay long before Anna needed to go home and rest, but their scents still lingered on Kaeya’s nest even after they left.

Jilliana found her way to his place around midnight following any major move by the local Treasure Hoarders, needing reassurance that she wasn’t a horrible person for not wanting her past to intrude on the life she had now.  Rudolf had never needed Kaeya’s direct help, being perfectly content so long as his family was happy.  The pair of them made an immediate habit of stopping by on their way up to the Cathedral in the mornings so that Lily could give Kaeya a feel-better-mister-captain hug and ‘sneak’ him cookies that had obviously been baked and packaged by Rudolf for that exact purpose.

Barbara had never needed to visit Kaeya’s apartment, either; he was very attuned to his little big sister’s disposition, and had always gone to her whenever she needed a shoulder to lean on or someone to bully her into taking a break.  Her first visit was short, consisting of intense cuddling and a very gentle lecture on how important it was to look after himself when she wasn’t there to do it for him.  She came back the next day with Noelle and a pair of overstuffed round pillows they’d obviously stayed up most of the night to make: one was pale blue with a vibrant Hydro symbol quilted onto it, the other vibrant blue with a pale Cryo symbol on its surface.

Noelle stayed long enough to invade his kitchen and ‘whip up a little something’ that translated into enough food to feed a full camp of hilichurls for a week.  She also cleaned the entire apartment before she could be stopped, then vanished with half his old nest material, leaving a pile of new things to replace it.

(She only took things she had direct replacements for.  Kaeya knew how he knew that specific plain black turtleneck was Huffman’s even though it hadn’t smelled like him for almost a year.  He had absolutely no idea how Noelle could tell.)

Noelle and Barbara both stopped by again every day after that to check up on him, and stayed as long as their duties allowed.

Jean was only able to visit once, and not for long: she was having to take on part of his duties as well as her own, which was unfair to her.  She shut down Kaeya’s offer to go back to work before he even finished making it, though, and threatened to sic Barbara on him if he tried it again, so he let the idea drop without further protest.

Flora and Donna came by every morning with fresh bouquets of calla lilies and cecilias to replace the previous day’s flowers, constantly filling the apartment with their fragrance.  He didn’t know them well - Flora rarely needed more than a kind word and a loyal customer to keep her happy, and Donna’s crush on Diluc coupled with Kaeya and Diluc’s estrangement made her wary of approaching him - but he was still pleased by their visits and their flowers.

Diluc showed up every day and was chased away every time by Lisa.

(She still hadn’t asked, but Kaeya knew better than to think she’d forgotten.)

Klee stayed stuck to his side like an adorable little burr, insisting on sleeping sprawled across his chest and stubborning parroting every order Eula or Lisa gave him because she knew that any power Kaeya had to disobey a pair of determined alphas was useless against her big red eyes.

The closest he came to being alone was when Bennett waited in the hall while he used the necessary and showered.

It should have felt confining; instead, it was comforting.  It made him feel less hollow inside, filling him with a warmth he wasn’t used to anymore.

Kaeya wasn’t sure how he was going to cope when it ended.

Eight days after the revelation of Kaeya’s condition, circumstances forced Eula and Amber back to work.  Eula’s depleted Company and Amber’s status as the Knights’ only Outrider meant that they both had duties which could only be delayed temporarily, and which could not be passed on to others.

Both had flatly refused to be moved until someone came to take up their current posts, however, which was how Albedo and his pack found themselves in Kaeya’s apartment, watching as Lisa and Bennett led a very reluctant Amber and Eula out.

Albedo had visited before, of course.  Whenever he was away from the city for an extended period of time, Kaeya was always the first person he asked to look after Klee in his absence.  Klee often stayed the night for no particular reason as well, and Albedo had once spent a week making use of the guest room following an accidental indoor explosion in his own house.

Kaeya’s apartment was one of the most inviting, most lived-in homes Albedo had ever seen: a quick glance around the living room made it seem as if a large family with multiple children of varying ages lived there rather than one person, and Albedo had never attended a meal there where less than half the kitchen table chairs were occupied.

Timaeus had assured Albedo when he first brought it up that this wasn’t unusual for omegas, especially packless ones such as Kaeya (or, packless ones such as they’d believed Kaeya to be at the time).  Omegas rarely lived alone and were even more rarely packless, but in those rare instances, it was common for them to fill their homes with evidence of social relationships: it made them feel more connected to their community and had a net positive effect on their psychological well-being.  It was normal behavior that Kaeya would likely be embarrassed to have pointed out, so it was best if they just pretended not to see him making off with their things from time to time.

(Timaeus was in truth a mediocre alchemist of only slightly above-average scholastic intelligence, but his interpersonal intelligence far outstripped Albedo’s own.  That was what made him such an exemplary pack alpha.)

Timaeus knocked politely on Kaeya’s bedroom door and waited for permission before opening it.  He stepped inside, holding the door open for Sucrose and Albedo to follow.

Kaeya’s bedroom was… not as inviting as the rest of his apartment.  There were no decorations, unless one counted the stack of crayon drawings on the dresser and the astonishing number of blankets, pillows, and other cloth items that made up what was undoubtedly Kaeya’s nest.  There was no clutter of any sort, and only the barest necessities as far as furniture went.  The chair in the corner didn’t even have a side table, a lamp, or a footstool to go with it.

Albedo glanced at Timaeus, whose expression and scent were both clearly dismayed as he surveyed the room.  It felt off to Albedo in a way he couldn’t define, but Timaeus’s greater insight obviously showed him more, and what it showed him was concerning.  Albedo made a mental note to ask him for further details later before refocusing on the nest and its current occupants.

“Hello, Kaeya.  Hello, Klee.”

“Hi, Albedo!” Klee said brightly, bouncing slightly on Kaeya’s lap.  “Hi, Auntie Sucrose, hi, Uncle Timaeus!  Are you here to help take care of Kaeya?”

Timaeus nodded.  “Captain Eula and Miss Amber had to go, so we’re here to take over for them.”

Klee cheered, clapping her hands excitedly.  “Yay!  Now we can all take care of Kaeya together!”

Albedo smiled at her exuberance.  “How would you like to go play with Kaeya in the living room?” he suggested.

He had no idea why this room unsettled him so much, but he did know with absolute certainty that he wanted Kaeya out of it as soon as humanly possible.

Klee, who usually loved playing with Kaeya, shook her head.  “We can’t,” she said.  “Kaeya has to stay here.”

“Shouldn’t that be up to Kaeya?” Timaeus asked.  “Why don’t we ask him what he wants to do?”

“But Kaeya has to stay here,” Klee objected.

“Why is that?”

“Because he’s icky-feeling, and Auntie Eula said that he’ll feel less icky in his nest.”

“The Lawrences are very old-fashioned,” Kaeya spoke up, which meant little to Albedo but apparently meant something more to Timaeus, given the look of understanding that crossed his face.

“It’s true that omegas can feel less… icky in their nests,” Timaeus agreed.  “But it also helps them to move around a bit.”

“But Auntie Eula said Kaeya needs his nest,” Klee protested.

“I think he’ll be fine as long as you’re with him, Klee,” Timaeus assured her.  “Being stuck in bed all the time is no fun, right?”

Klee pouted thoughtfully, then nodded.  “If Uncle Timaeus says it’s okay for Kaeya to get up, I guess it’s okay,” she conceded.  “We can go play.”

“You go on ahead, Klee,” Kaeya said.  “I’ll be right behind you.”

“Why don’t we go find something fun to do with Kaeya, while Albedo and Sucrose help him get ready?” Timaeus suggested.

Klee glanced back and forth between Timaeus and Kaeya a few times, then hopped off the bed and grabbed Timaeus’s hand, all but dragging him out of the room.

Kaeya watched them go with a soft smile before letting Sucrose pull him to his feet and into a tight hug that Kaeya immediately reciprocated.  He lingered for a long moment before releasing her, turning to Albedo and visibly hesitating.

Albedo didn’t exactly dislike being touched.  He preferred less tactile interaction, mainly due to the fact that such close physical contact was generally for the purpose of scenting, and nulls such as himself did not provide or gain as much as even unpresented children from scenting (and Albedo himself provided and gained even less than most other nulls), but he didn’t mind being touched.  He just rarely saw the point in it, and thus rarely bothered.

Kaeya knew all of that, and meticulously observed Albedo’s unspoken boundaries, bending them only with permission and only during his heats.  Kaeya wasn’t currently in heat, and he wasn’t the sort of person to ask for anything that he believed would solely benefit him.  Albedo was well aware of that fact.

So rather than waiting for a request he knew wasn’t going to come, Albedo reached up, pulling Kaeya close and guiding him down so that his face was buried in the curve of Albedo’s neck, where his scent was strongest.

Kaeya shuddered, relaxing into the embrace.  He lifted his arms, wrapping them around Albedo’s waist, as close to outright clinging as Albedo had ever seen him.  He closed his eyes, patiently allowing Kaeya to do whatever brought him the most comfort right now.

When Kaeya straightened, he did so slowly,with obvious reluctance.  Albedo almost prevented him from pulling away, but he refused to allow his instincts to trump Kaeya’s autonomy.

He did, however, take hold of one of Kaeya’s hands.  Sucrose took possession of the other, and the two of them led Kaeya out of his worryingly empty bedroom.

Timaeus and Klee were waiting in the living room with a large basket of wooden blocks.  The coffee table had already been moved so that the rug laid in front of the couch was empty and there would be ample building space.  Kaeya and Klee settled in the middle of the rug with the blocks and began what promised to be a project of epic and structurally unsound proportions.  Sucrose joined them; Timaeus chose to sit on the couch to watch from a safe distance.

Albedo sat at the opposite end of the couch, opening his sketchbook.  He wouldn’t manage anything beyond rough sketches given his subjects would be in constant motion, but he found that those captured the energy Kaeya and Klee could create between them better than more polished pieces, anyway.

When Lisa returned an hour or so later, she simply smiled, skirting the construction site without a word to claim the empty armchair.

(His last two sketches before dinner included Lisa dozing contentedly in the background, a fond smile still on her lips.)

“Master Jean?”

Jean looked up from the mounds of work on her desk to see Barbara peeking around the edge of her doorway.

Jean immediately set down her quill and stood, rounding her desk.  Barbara stepped inside and closed the door before hurrying across the office and throwing her arms around Jean.

Jean usually tried to keep her private and work lives separate, and usually felt awkward and uncomfortable indulging her pack instincts while in Headquarters, but she was tired and worried and still a little angry at herself, so she didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around Barbara and pull her close.

Barbara hugged her tightly, humming under her breath while her cecilias and chamomile scent blended with Jean’s own scent of baked apples and cecilias, patiently waiting for Jean to let herself be soothed.

It took several minutes before Jean could bring herself to let go.  “My-”

“Don’t you dare apologize for letting me do my job,” Barbara interrupted, pouting slightly.

“Sorry,” Jean apologized sheepishly, smiling when Barbara pouted harder.  “How is he?”

Barbara sighed, flopping gracefully onto the couch.  “Better than I feared, but not as good as I hoped,” she admitted.  “I’ve never seen pack neglect so advanced before, so I’m sure he’s recovering at a good pace, but…”

“But you wish he didn’t have to suffer through it at all,” Jean finished, sitting next to her.  “I feel the same.”

Jean knew she was far from the only Mondstadter fighting not to wallow in crushing guilt over this whole unfortunate affair.  Kaeya was her friend and her most trusted subordinate, yet he’d fallen into pack neglect without her even noticing.  She couldn’t help but feel at fault for that.  Barbara was closer to Kaeya than Jean, spent more time with him outside of work, and was a fellow omega; Jean doubted she felt any less guilty.

“I should’ve realized something was wrong,” Barbara said, staring down at the rug.  “I’m a horrible little big sister.”

“You’re not a horrible sister of any kind,” Jean disagreed, wrapping her arm around Barbara’s shoulders.

“Am so,” Barbara argued, but she let Jean pull her close again and soothe her.

This was what they should have been doing for Kaeya this whole time.  Pack omegas carried a huge emotional burden, looking after the wellbeing of the entire pack and seeing to any internal friction or personal crisis in their packmates.  It wore them out, and they needed to be reassured from time to time.  They needed the opportunity to be vulnerable, to vent their own frustrations, to prioritize their own wellbeing for a change.

Years, according to Lisa.  Years, Kaeya had been struggling with no support, to look after a pack exponentially larger than any other pack Jean had ever heard of or read about.  It was a miracle of some magnitude that it had taken him this long to fall apart.

“We all failed to realize,” Jean continued, once the bitterness of guilt and self-recrimination was a little thinner in Barbara’s scent.  “All we can do now is make sure it never happens again.” 

Barbara nodded against her shoulder, relaxing a little bit more.  She began to hum, a soft slow lullaby to fill the silence.  Jean began to sing a quiet counterpart, half-remembered words from a long, long time ago.

Jean had too much work to take much of a break.  With her pack omega and little sister pressed against her and an ancient promise of love and sweet dreams shimmering in the air, she could at least make the most of the little time she did have to spare.

 Not long after Albedo, Timaeus, and Sucrose took up their posts, Lisa decided Kaeya had recovered enough to discuss what had been wrong with him in the first place.

Kaeya knew what pack neglect was, of course.  It wasn’t common in a place like Mondstadt, but it did happen from time to time.  He knew what it meant when omegas got over-anxious and desperate to please, alphas a little too aggressive and excessively territorial, betas more sensitive and in need of extra reassurance.  He’d even nipped it in the bud a time or two, manipulating packs into seeing that there was a problem and subtly steering them into correcting it.

But in order to be neglected by a pack, you had to have one in the first place.

So Kaeya couldn’t possibly be suffering from pack neglect.

Every time Kaeya pointed that out, though, Lisa calmly insisted that he did, in fact, have a pack.  One that had been neglecting him horribly for far too long.

Lisa insisted that most of the City of Mondstadt was his pack.  That he’d somehow turned a city with a population in the thousands into a pack when the largest pack he could think of off the top of his head was Bennett’s (nine people) and the largest he’d ever heard of was Grand Master Vanessa’s (fourteen people).

The entire notion was ridiculous, but the warmth that welled up in his chest every time she brought it up forced him to consider the fact that ‘ridiculous’ didn’t necessarily mean ‘untrue’.

Lisa was immensely patient, and her persistence once she decided something needed doing was legendary.  Kaeya could refute her as many times as he wanted: she’d just calmly wait for him to stop talking, then pick right up where she’d left off.  She had a counter for his every objection, all of them perfectly logical and most of them impossible to dispute.

By the time Kaeya felt ready to return to work - after weeks of pulling people from their duties, weeks of sleeping in a pile every night and spending his days surrounded by talk and ready touch and scents not his own - he was ready to admit she was right.

Chapter Text

Kaeya’s first day back was… odd.

Once he’d accepted that Lisa did know what she was talking about, he’d expected… honestly, he’d expected to be met with disgust.  Turning an entire city into a pack - without anyone’s knowledge or consent - was unnatural at best.  Maybe some of the kinder-hearted citizens would simply pity him for being desperate enough to go to such lengths, but disgust and even hostility would make more sense to him.

(He knew the people of Mondstadt better than that.  But somehow, the doubts always managed to drown that knowledge out.)

It was hard to doubt Eula, Lisa, Albedo, and Klee all waiting for him when he stepped outside, though.  Hard to doubt the way Klee leaped into his arms and Eula stationed herself so close by his side that their arms kept brushing as they began the walk up to Headquarters.

The walk took three times as long as usual.  Most of the citizens and his fellow knights were polite to Kaeya, and would greet him in passing, but very few actually held conversations with him that he didn’t initiate.  Today, however, they seemed determined to make up for it.

Miles usually kept a professional distance from Kaeya, rigidly observing etiquette out of uncertainty in a new city full of strangers.  When they passed him, he saluted as usual, but also took the time to pat Kaeya familiarly on the shoulder.

Margaret’s daily walks had a set route that did not include the roads between Kaeya’s apartment and Headquarters, which meant she deliberately sought him out to congratulate him on his recovery and inform him that there was a 50% discount on his next bill at Cat’s Tail.

(Margaret did not do discounts.  Offering such a huge discount on the entire bill instead of a single drink was unheard-of, and the clearest evidence of her sincerity he could have asked for.)

Michelle hugged him as soon as she saw him.  Raymond clapped him on the shoulder the same way Miles had, hand lingering as he asked about Kaeya’s health and listened to Klee’s bright-eyed assurances that Kaeya was better now. Athos and Porthos both smiled and greeted him warmly as he mounted the steps to Headquarters.

Once inside, Eula made her apologies and vanished down the hall to see to her own duties.  Albedo reclaimed a reluctant Klee and headed back outside, leaving only Lisa to accompany him into Jean’s office.

Jean looked up from her paperwork with a smile.  “Good morning, Kaeya.  It’s good to have you back.”

“Good morning, Master Jean,” he replied.  “It’s good to be back.  What do you have for me today?”

“I have a very difficult assignment for you,” she said. “I want you to take it easy for the next few days.  And yes, that is an order,” she added when Kaeya opened his mouth to protest.  “You aren’t fully recovered yet, and the entire city will be beside ourselves with worry if we think you’re taking on too much, too fast.”

Which was a fair point.  People were going to be paying much closer attention to him than usual, and he doubted he’d get away with hiding any strain or fatigue for a while.

“Stick to deskwork for at least the rest of the week.  If there’s anyone you have to speak to, let them come to you instead of the other way around.”

“No galavanting about getting into mischief just yet,” Lisa insisted.

“We can have Klee enforce this if we have to,” Jean added.

Kaeya couldn’t help but laugh.  “It’s rude to call people out in public like that, Jean,” he said.

Jean smiled.  “Back to work with you, Captain,” she ordered fondly.

Kaeya saluted her smartly and obeyed.

His office was… not as bad as he’d expected.  Noelle had obviously been through a few times in his absence, and everything was neatly stored and organized exactly the way Kaeya would have done it if he ever bothered being so tidy.  The paperwork on his desk was even properly sorted from most to least urgent.

Kaeya didn’t particularly enjoy paperwork, but that only meant he was very good at getting it done quickly and correctly: the less time spent on it, the better, and being sloppy would just mean having to do it twice, so obviously it made sense to learn how to do it fast and right the first time.  When Diluc had been Captain, he’d always put paperwork off until the last minute, meaning most of it had wound up being done by Kaeya just to make sure the deadlines could actually be met.

When Noelle appeared at his office door a few hours later with a tray in her hands, Kaeya had already made it through an entire day’s worth of work.  He could have kept going, but he remembered Jean’s admonishment and knew Noelle was a worrier by nature, so he set aside his paperwork and waved her in.

“What can I do for you, Noelle?”

“I brought you some tea and snacks,” she said, setting the tray in a clear spot near the edge of his desk.

The tray did indeed contain a teapot and cup, along with a small stack of pancakes with honey and extra berries.

“Thank you, Noelle,” he said, smiling.  “I was just starting to feel a bit peckish.”

Noelle smiled back.  “If you want more, I’ll be happy to make them for you,” she said.

It was reflex to deflect, because Noelle took a lot on herself and Kaeya had a hell of a time keeping her from overworking at the best of times, but again: Noelle was a worrier by nature.  Under normal circumstances, she’d accept his answer at face value and find other people to look after, but she was already worried about him and would only worry more if he didn’t let her take care of him.

(And Kaeya was self-aware enough to admit he needed a little caring for still.)

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said instead, and was rewarded with Noelle’s brightest smile.

“Please do,” she insisted.  “Is there anything else you need?”

Kaeya considered the depleted pile of paperwork on his desk for a moment.

“Tell Master Jean I’m being a good boy and taking a break,” he said.  “Tell her I said she should follow my example.”

“I’ll try,” Noelle promised, dipping a quick curtsy before leaving him to his food.

Kaeya finished eating, leaving the tray on the desk to be collected later, then continued being a good boy by going out to get some fresh air.

He visited the Cathedral so Barbara could give him a once-over and confirm that he was not, in fact, dying.  Sister Victoria met him at the door, and didn’t make a single passive-aggressive comment about excessive drinking the entire conversation.

Barbara ordered him to relax for the rest of the day and didn’t let him leave the Cathedral until after she’d dispatched a Knight to inform Jean, thereby ensuring he wouldn’t be allowed to work anymore until morning at the earliest.  He was further detained by Lily, and didn’t even bother trying to get back into Headquarters once he finally made it outside again.

He had no choice about having the afternoon off, so he might as well accept defeat gracefully and make the most of it.

When he stopped by Cat’s Tail to take Margaret up on that discount she’d mentioned, Diona only glared at him a little before presenting him with a rocks glass of a violently purple cocktail and a grumbled glad you’re better, drunkard.   She even let him steal her hat and mess up her hair with only mild yowling.

On his way through the market district, Marjorie intercepted him long enough to give him a necklace made from a fragment of Shivada Jade, in a silver wire setting that mimicked Irminsul.  She refused to let him leave until he let her hang it around his neck.

Schulz waved to him cheerfully as he passed the smithy, and Wagner spared enough attention from his work to greet him with a quick nod.

Flora and Donna had a bouquet waiting when he got to their stall, and Beatrice didn’t even complain when Quinn insisted on giving Kaeya a free apple.

Kaeya had spent more than half his life in Mondstadt, but he had never in all that time felt so much like he belonged in Mondstadt as he did that afternoon.

The sun was just beginning to set by the time Kaeya made it home, long before he normally would.  He let himself in, debating if he should make dinner or just go to bed; the day had been more taxing than he’d expected, and he was tired enough to consider skipping food in favor of rest at this early hour.

Inside, he found the couch occupied by Razor and Bennett.  Bennett wasn’t that much of a surprise - he was in and out of Kaeya’s apartment all the time - but Kaeya could count the number of times Razor had actually entered Mondstadt City on one hand.

“What are you two doing here?” he asked.

“We’re staying the night,” Bennett said brightly.

“Why?”

Bennett’s smile dimmed slightly, and he lost some of his enthusiasm.  “Do- do you not want us here?” he asked.

“Of course I want you here, Benny,” Kaeya hurried to assure him.  “But I’m okay now.  You don’t have to coddle me anymore.”

Bennett frowned, his honey and burning leaves scent sharpening with worry as he stood, hopping over the coffee table and striding over to throw his arms around Kaeya’s waist.

“It isn’t coddling to take care of you,” he insisted.

Razor stood as well, following Bennett’s example and also hugging Kaeya, wrapping both omegas in his scent.

Most people kept at least some control over their scents, weakening them as a matter of courtesy; alphas especially tended to work hard at dampening their scents.  Razor, probably as a byproduct of literally being raised by wolves, was definitely not one of those alphas.  His scent was always honest and strong, filling the air around him with the grounding scent of freshly turned earth sweetened by valberries, heady even out in the wilderness.  In the confines of Kaeya’s living room, it completely overrode any misgivings or worries Kaeya might have had, soothing him almost as well as Lisa’s scent did.

“Don’t have to stay,” Razor said into Kaeya’s chest.  “Want to.  Different.”

“Yeah,” Kaeya agreed quietly, “that’s different.”

Bennett and Razor weren’t here because they thought they had to be, because they felt obligated to cater to Kaeya’s shortcomings: there were here because they wanted to be.  They wanted to spend the night with him.  Not because they thought he might break down again, but because they just… wanted to.

As with a lot of things he’d been experiencing lately, Kaeya found the thought of that comforting.

The three of them stayed like that for a few minutes more before the boys let Kaeya pull away.

Kaeya cooked dinner, because Bennett was banned from the kitchen and all Razor knew how to make was hash browns, and someone had to see to it they ate something at least vaguely resembling a balanced diet.

Once the dishes were done, they all got changed and piled into Kaeya’s nest together.  He thought he’d resigned himself to not having company anymore, but the relief he felt at not being alone said he’d only been fooling himself on that count.

Thank Barbatos, his pack was smarter than him.

Kaeya got roughly the same amount of work done the next day before Lisa appeared in his office and kidnapped him, bundling him off to her own office buried behind the library where a fresh pot of tea and a stack of books were waiting.

Lisa seemed to feel that there were significant gaps in his education with regard to packs and how they worked, and had decided to take it upon herself to correct those oversights.  She informed him in no uncertain terms that he was going to be joining her for tea, lessons, and a nap every other day whether he wanted to or not.

He thought she was being a bit excessive, until the lesson actually started.

The gaps were bigger than even Lisa had thought.  The fundamentals he should have learned as a child, he’d been forced to pick up in bits and fragments as an adult.  The more nuanced rules and etiquette he should have learned from his pack as he reached adulthood had been neglected due to Crepus’s death and Kaeya’s expulsion from the pack almost immediately afterward.  The average ten-year-old in Mondstadt probably knew more about packs than Kaeya did.

“It’s alright, darling,” Lisa assured him, sitting next to him on the plush purple sofa and wrapping her arms around him.  “I’m a very good teacher, and you’re a fast learner.  We’ll get this fixed.”

“My apologies for making you-”

“Ah! None of that,” she interrupted.  “You aren’t making me do anything: I’m choosing to do this, because I love you and want to help you.  So no more apologies, am I understood?”

“Yes, Teacher,” Kaeya said, smiling slightly.

Lisa smiled back, choosing to remain pressed against his side while she turned to the next page to continue the lesson.

Kaeya was allowed to run one errand outside after Lisa let him go.  There were a number of things he could choose to spend it on, some of them fairly important, but in the end he chose to visit Huffman.  Jean had worked twice as hard as usual while Kaeya was unavailable, and getting back to recopying Huffman’s reports for her was small, easy, and unlikely to make anyone think he was doing too much, but would undeniably be helpful to Jean.

On his way to speak to Huffman, Shiliu called out to him, waving him over.

“I have something for you, Sir Kaeya, if you’ll accept it,” she said, holding out one of the small lacquered boxes she packed artifacts in on the rare occasion she actually sold one.  It was made of sandbearer wood stained a light golden-brown, with a stylized glaze lily carved into the lid.

(Kaeya privately suspected that most people who bought from her were actually after those boxes rather than the artifacts inside them.  He didn’t blame those people at all.)

Kaeya took it, lifting off the lid.  The inside was lined with gold silk, with a gold silk cushion on which rested a ring, carved with an intricate feather design and polished until it gleamed brilliant blue in the afternoon sun.

“It’s tradition in Liyue,” Shiliu said, “when a new pack is formed or someone becomes part of a pre-existing pack, to present gifts to the pack alpha and pack omega.  Noctilucous Jade is traditional for pack omegas.”

“It’s beautiful, Shiliu,” Kaeya said, lifting it out and setting the box down so he could slip it on.  It fit perfectly.  “Thank you.”

Shiliu blushed, smiling.  “Sorry it’s a little late.”

“If it had been on time, I would’ve been very confused,” Kaeya said with a laugh.  “Thank you.  Really.”

Shiliu blushed a bit deeper.  “I won’t keep you any longer, Sir Kaeya,” she said.  “Have a wonderful day.”

“You, too,” he replied, setting off again.

He wondered if it would be feasible to convince Shiliu to switch her wares.  Provided it was appropriate for those outside Liyue to practice this particular custom, he could easily see it catching on in Mondstadt as well.  He knew for a fact that as soon as Huffman saw the ring, he was going to want something similar for his mother, and Shiliu’s finances and standing would both improve dramatically.

He’d have to talk to her about that later.  For now, he needed to rescue Jean from Huffman’s terrible handwriting.

When he got home that night, he found Sucrose and Klee waiting for him.  Albedo had dragged Timaeus off to Dragonspine that morning, so Kaeya wasn’t surprised to see them.

Sucrose chose to sleep in the guest room, which was fine: she needed her space more often than not.  The fact that she was right down the hall and would come running if he called was more than enough for him, and it was impossible to feel lonely with Klee sprawled on his chest snoring softly into his shoulder.

The next few days passed in much the same way.  Kaeya settled back into his duties, and the people of Mondstadt continued to shower him with attention and affection as if it was the most natural thing in the world.  Ella even took the time to thank him for patiently listening to her weekly hour-long rant about the scarcity of research opportunities in her chosen field of study.

People were noticing his efforts.

People were acknowledging his efforts.

He wasn’t used to that.

Everything was different now.

(He consciously avoided Angel's Share.  He didn’t want to be disappointed when he discovered that not quite everything was different now.)

Chapter Text

At another afternoon lesson over tea, Lisa decided it was high time to address the fiery elephant in the room.

“He tried to kill you.”

Kaeya froze for a moment, then set his cup down with a sigh.  “Yes.”

“So it’s only fair I try to kill him back.”

“It was years ago, Lisa,” Kaeya said.  “And it wasn’t exactly unjustified.”

Lisa set her own cup down, folding her hands in her lap, and decided she wasn’t going to kill Diluc, after all.

Death would be letting him off too lightly.

“There is nothing you could have done that could justify trying to kill you, Kaeya.”

“His father had just died,” Kaeya said, as if Master Crepus hadn’t been his father, too.  “And he’d just found out I’d been lying to him since the day we met.”

Lisa hummed.  “Still not justification for attempted murder, darling.”

Kaeya looked away, obviously debating something.  Then he took a deep breath, steeling himself.

“I’m a spy.”

He clearly expected her to react negatively, like Diluc apparently had.  But Lisa was not still touted as the best student to come out of the Akademiya in 200 years for nothing.

Diluc and Kaeya met as young children; if she recalled correctly, when Kaeya was nine and Diluc eleven.  If Kaeya had been lying since they met, it would have started then.  If the lie was connected to his being a spy, then that had also started when he was a young child; therefore he couldn’t really be held accountable for either.

“For Khaenri’ah, I presume?”

Kaeya looked up at her, startled, and Lisa lightly tapped her temple next to her left eye.  He automatically lifted his hand, fingertips resting below his own left eye with its unique pupil that anyone who’d read as much of the restricted section as Lisa had could easily recognize.

“Have you ever passed sensitive information about Mondstadt to your homeland?” she asked.

“No.”

“Have you ever supplied Mondstadt with misinformation at the behest of your homeland?”

“No.”

“Have you ever worked in your homeland’s interests in a way that was potentially or actually harmful to Mondstadt?”

“Of course not.”

She cocked her head to the side.  “Have you ever contacted or been contacted by your homeland since coming to Mondstadt?” she asked.

Kaeya shook his head.

“Then I fail to see how you could possibly be considered a spy.”

“But I was placed here-”

“Exactly: placed here.  By someone else.  Not of your own volition.  Hardly a decision that can be counted against you.”

“But-”

“No buts, sweetie,” she interrupted, picking up her tea.  It was lukewarm by now, but she sipped it, anyway.

It was easy for her, an outsider, looking at the situation objectively, to suss this out and come to these conclusions.  Diluc, however, had always been passionate, hot-headed, stubborn, and prone to acting without thinking when his emotions were high.  Combine that with the grief and shock of losing his beloved father the way he had…

“I suppose I can, with effort, understand Master Diluc’s rash actions,” she admitted at length.  “But he still was not justified.”

“Lisa-”

Lisa sighed, finishing her cup.  “Hush, now, dear; I’m all tired out.  Come be my pillow.”

Kaeya let the subject drop, moving obediently to the couch next to her.  She draped herself over him, leaning until he gave up and flopped backward so she could settle herself comfortably on top of him and they could both pull their feet up onto the cushions, shoes and all.  Then she got down to some serious cuddling.

He was not leaving this office until he knew without a doubt that this changed nothing.

It took all afternoon before she was certain she’d gotten it through his adorably thick skull.  It was, in Lisa’s opinion, an afternoon well-spent.

Kaeya continued to avoid Angel's Share.  He had momentum on that now, it would take more effort to actually go in there than to keep not doing that.

Diluc, however, obviously still believed their conversation wasn’t finished.  Once it became clear Kaeya wasn’t going to come to him, he decided he’d better go to Kaeya, and he was much harder to avoid than a stationary building.

Which was why Kaeya couldn’t honestly say he was surprised when he stepped into his office after the day’s lesson with Lisa to find Diluc lying in wait, obviously having snuck in through the window.

(Kaeya had left the window closed and locked from the inside.  He was going to have to replace that lock now, in case anyone else in town knew how to trip it.  Another item on his “to do when Jean’s not looking” list.)

Kaeya sighed, stepping fully inside.  He’d known he wouldn’t be able to avoid this forever, and it would be a waste of energy to fight it now.  Might as well just get it over with.

“You could have come in the front door like a normal person,” he commented, sitting at his desk with a sigh and getting to work.

“Then you would have hidden from me again,” Diluc replied, crossing his arms.

“I would never,” Kaeya said, and didn’t even bother trying to make it sound like anything but the bald-faced lie it was.

Diluc scowled.  “You can’t keep avoiding me forever, Kaeya.”

“Is that a challenge, Master Diluc?”

Diluc scowled harder, glaring at the papers on Kaeya’s desk instead of at him.

“I don’t remember,” he said abruptly.  “Trying to kill you.  I don’t remember that.”

Kaeya sighed.  “Really, Diluc?  Really?”   That’s what he was going with?  That Kaeya was misremembering what happened?

“I don’t remember anything,” Diluc insisted.  “I remember you telling me… what you told me.  And I remember Adelinde trying to convince me to let her tend to my wounds.  Nothing in between.”

Oh.

That was… not where Kaeya thought this was going.

“I think… I think I went feral,” Diluc said.  “I know I hurt you, but I don’t remember-” he sighed.  It obviously pained him to say this.  “I don’t remember, so I don’t know how much it’s worth to say, but I- I’m sorry.”

Kaeya set down his pen and folded his hands on the desk to hide how they were starting to shake.

He’d never expected an apology.  He’d never expected Diluc to even acknowledge what happened.  He’d expected things to stay the same as they’d been since Diluc came back.  He wasn’t sure what to do with this.  He didn’t know how to react.  This was the one outcome he hadn’t planned for, and he had no idea what to do now that it was happening.

“Go home, Diluc,” he said finally.

“Kaeya-”

“This isn’t something we can work through in a single conversation,” Kaeya said.  “I’m not rejecting your apology, I’m just… not accepting it right now.  We can talk more later.”

“When?”

“I don’t know.  Just not right now.” He sighed, unclasping his hands to run one through his bangs.  He knew Diluc well enough to know he wouldn't leave without some sort of concrete answer.  “I’ll come to the tavern either tonight or tomorrow night, so just- go home, Diluc.”

Diluc wasn’t happy about it, but he did leave.  Through the window rather than the door.  Kaeya refrained from commenting on it.

At least the fact that Diluc had apologized would make Lisa less inclined to kill him.

Kaeya hoped so, anyway.

Amber returned from her patrol and handed in her report, then went straight to Kaeya’s office.

It was awkward, the way she was pulled in conflicting directions about Kaeya right now.  She still thought he was super suspicious, and that this weird ‘being pack omega to the entire city’ thing couldn’t explain all his shady actions away.  But at the same time, he had been being pack omega to the entire city, and everything she was ever taught about omegas said that a pack omega couldn’t even be forced to betray their pack, not without breaking the bond and probably driving them insane.

Amber felt two ways about Kaeya that couldn’t really be reconciled, and she didn’t like it.  So she’d decided to do what she’d always done: confront the problem head-on.

When she reached his open office door, Kaeya was sitting with his elbows on his desk, forehead resting against his intertwined fingers, clearly lost in thought.

“Kaeya?” she called quietly, resolving to leave him be for today if he didn’t respond.

Kaeya blinked and lifted his head, smiling.  “Hello, Amber,” he said.  “Done patrolling?”

She nodded, stepping fully into his office.  “Have you eaten dinner yet?”

Kaeya glanced guiltily at the plate of Noelle’s special pancakes that had obviously been sitting on the corner of his desk for some time now.

“Let’s go to Good Hunter,” she said.  “My treat.”

“My salary is larger than yours,” Kaeya said.  “Surely I should be the one paying.”

“I plan to talk about things you probably don’t want to while we eat,” she said frankly.  “It’s only fair I don’t charge you for putting you through that.”

Kaeya smiled and stood up.  “That refreshingly blunt manner of yours is one of the things I like best about you, Amber,” he said.  “But I do request that we get our food to go.”

Amber nodded, because that was a reasonable request.  She waited by the door while Kaeya set his desk to rights, then stepped into the hall so he could close and lock the door.  Once that was done, she set off with Kaeya at her heels, heading for Good Hunter and a conversation neither of them was probably going to enjoy.

They both placed an order for their usual - calla lily seafood soup for Kaeya, sticky honey roast and mint jelly for Amber - then waited in awkward silence for Sara to call their names.  Once they’d collected their food, Kaeya led her back to his apartment.

It was weird being back there, after all the time she’d spent helping Kaeya recover from pack neglect.  It was weird that she’d spent all that time there in the first place, she supposed.  But Grandfather had taught her that it wasn’t right to leave an omega in distress even if they weren’t part of your pack, only all the more so for a pack omega.

Pack omegas were special.  They were a pack’s keystone, even more than the pack alpha.  Let a pack omega crumble, and their entire pack could wind up falling apart.  Grandfather would’ve been disappointed in her if she’d turned her back on even someone she hated in that state, and she didn’t hate Kaeya.

Kaeya retrieved a bottle of wine for himself and a jug of apple cider for Amber, then they sat across from each other at the enormous kitchen table to eat.

Amber was halfway through her roast when Kaeya put his spoon down.  “What did you want to talk about?” he asked.

Amber put her fork down and picked up her glass, draining it in a single breath like she was searching for courage at the bottom of a wine bottle.

(She wasn’t going to find courage at the bottom of a glass of non-alcoholic cider, but you couldn’t blame a girl for trying.)

“I don’t trust you,” she said in a rush, not sure how else to start.  “I don’t hate you - I even kind of like you sometimes - but you’re just… so suspicious.”

Kaeya nodded, as if that was totally understandable and he wasn’t offended by it at all.

“I used to think that you were some sort of double agent.  That you were working for the Fatui or the Abyss or something and you were going to betray us all.”

Kaeya, for some reason, laughed.  “I can see how you’d think that,” he said after a moment.  “I take it from your phrasing that you no longer feel that way?”

“Kind of?  I know you won’t betray us now, but… you’re really suspicious, Kaeya.”

“I know,” Kaeya said.  “I would say it’s not on purpose, but that would technically be a lie; it’s sort of unavoidable, given the nature of some of my work.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, frowning.

Kaeya sighed, rolling the stem of his wine glass slightly between his fingers and staring into it.

“I’m not a good person, Amber,” he said at length.  “You’re a good person, and there are lines you won’t cross.  Jean is a good person, too: she’ll cross some of those lines, if it’s necessary, but it will eat at her for the rest of her life.  But me?”

He set his glass back down and turned his gaze on her, and his eye was like ominous stormclouds and tempered steel.

“I’m not a good person.  I will cross those lines, and I won’t lose sleep over it.  I’m not dedicated to some abstract ideal of justice or freedom or truth: I’m dedicated to Mondstadt.  I will keep her safe, in every way I can, at any cost.  Are you sure you want to know the particulars of my work?”

Amber looked down at her empty glass.  Part of her did want to know, because she wanted to know everything.  The rest of her was scared to.  Once she knew, she couldn’t unknow, and they did say that ignorance was bliss, after all.

Kaeya chuckled, interrupting her spiraling thoughts.  When she looked up, he was smiling.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” he said.  “Take your time.  Get back to me later.  I and my secrets will still be here tomorrow.”

Amber nodded, relieved.  Her stomach was in knots, so she pushed her plate away, slumping down in her chair slightly.

Kaeya set aside the remains of his soup, finishing off his glass of wine, and stood.

“I have an engagement elsewhere tonight,” he said. “Feel free to stay as long as you like; I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

Amber nodded again.  Kaeya left the jug of cider on the table for her, storing the half-empty bottle of wine, and left.

Amber drank two more glasses of cider, then decided enough was enough.  She got up, putting away the leftovers, and did the dishes before heading back to her own place.  She needed to think.

(She decided she was better off not knowing.  She’d just have to trust Kaeya.
It was easier to do than she’d thought it would be.)

Chapter Text

Kaeya knew he’d given himself two days to get back to Diluc, but he also knew there was a chance that neither he nor Diluc would survive until tomorrow night.  Might as well save them both the stress and get this over with.

Angel’s Share was doing a fair bit of business when Kaeya got there, but it was far from crowded.  Charles greeted him politely, and didn't react when Kaeya refused an offer of his usual order, instead giving him a glass of water and leaving him alone to wait.

Diluc came down the stairs after a few minutes, a load of empty mugs in his hands and a towel over his shoulder.  He was obviously surprised to see Kaeya, and stopped to stare for a long moment before hurrying to dump his burden in the sink.

“Is there somewhere private we can speak?” Kaeya asked, standing.

Diluc nodded, handing his towel to Charles and motioning for Kaeya to follow him.

They made their way up to the attic, full of excess tables and chairs and crates of fancy liquors that were rarely ordered but too valuable to simply sell off or get rid of.  There was only one key as far as Kaeya knew, which Diluc used to lock the door behind them before picking up a lantern and lighting it with a frown of concentration and a faint pulse of heat.

The light revealed that a single table and two chairs had been set up a bit apart from the rest of the clutter and wiped free of dust: Diluc obviously prepared this ahead of time.

“I’m sorry,” Kaeya said, dropping into one of the chairs.

Diluc sat across from him, frowning, and set the lantern down to one side.  “What for?”

“Telling you then.  It wasn’t fair to you.  I’m sorry.” If Diluc could own up to his mistakes, so could Kaeya.

“You were grieving, too, Kaeya, you can’t be blamed for-”

“I did it on purpose.”

Diluc stared at him, blinking owlishly in the flickering lantern light.  “What?”

“I purposely told you then,” Kaeya said.  “I told you knowing you’d be upset.  Knowing you’d lash out.  I didn’t mean to send you feral, but I did mean to make you angry.”

“Why?”

Kaeya shrugged, staring off into the dim shadows of the far end of the attic.  “Self-flagellation, mainly,” he admitted.  “I felt like I deserved to be punished.  I felt like you deserved to be the one to do it.  It seemed like the perfect solution.”

“I almost killed you.”

“I know.  I’m sorry for pushing you that far, and for using you like that.  It was cruel of me.”

“It was,” Diluc agreed.  “It doesn’t justify what I did, but it was cruel.”

That was good: Diluc had a tendency to shoulder far more responsibility than he was due, and Kaeya had been a little worried that he might try to steal all the credit for what was rightly a mutual fuck-up on their parts.

“We both handled that day badly,” Kaeya said.  Diluc snorted in agreement.

They lapsed into silence for a minute or so before Diluc asked, “Were you lying?  When you said you were happy he was dead?”

“Technically yes, technically no,” Kaeya admitted.  “I wasn’t happy - I loved him just as much as you did - but I was relieved.  Just for a moment.”

“Why?”

Kaeya wished he had some wine.  Or something stronger.  He wasn’t sure he could get through this on only the residual buzz of the two glasses he’d had at dinner.

“I can’t tell you tonight,” he said at length.  “Not unless you’ve got that crate of fire-water up here somewhere.”

“I don’t think even you can handle that.”

“That’s what the alleged Fatui diplomats thought, too,” Kaeya said with a faint smile.  “It’s not the strongest thing I’ve ever had.”

Diluc stared at him.

“There isn’t much in the way of drinkable water where I come from,” Kaeya admitted, the first thing he’d ever told Diluc about his homeland beyond its name.  “I was well able to hold my alcohol long before Master Crepus took me in.”

Diluc looked down, staring intently at the wood grain of the table like it was the most facinating thing in Teyvat.

“You don’t have to call him that,” he said quietly.  “I don’t know what I said to make you- but you don’t have to call him that.”

Kaeya vividly recalled every word Diluc snarled at him that night.  You don’t deserve to call him Father had rung in his ears louder than the thunder, sharper than the crack of lightning and heavier than the pounding rain.  You were never his son, you traitor had stayed with him long after the burns healed and the bruises faded. Don’t you dare pretend you loved him still haunted his nightmares every April.

Alphas in an angry feral state usually didn’t bother to speak.  When they did, it was always with violent intent, whatever would hurt their target the most and not necessarily what they actually felt or believed.  He’d thought Diluc meant every word, but if Diluc had truly been feral that night…

“Before Dad took me in,” he said.

Diluc didn’t flinch or growl, and his scent remained steady.

Something in Kaeya that he hadn’t even realized was off-balance finally settled.

They met again, once every two or three days.  Beneath the tree at Windrise, on the bluff behind the Cathedral, Kaeya’s apartment, the tavern attic, on Starsnatch Cliff, anywhere that wasn’t haunted by countless memories of their childhood.

It was hard, but they kept at it.  They talked.  They apologized a lot.  They visited Crepus’s grave together for the first time.  They broke down and cried together for the first time since Crepus died.

“My favorite flower used to be small lamp grass,” Kaeya admitted one day, sitting on the edge of the bluff overlooking Springvale.  “I only started to like calla lilies when you started bringing them to me.”

“They smelled like you,” Diluc said with an embarrassed shrug, ears red like they’d been when he’d brought Kaeya bouquets and garlands and crowns of lilies when Kaeya seemed sad or just because Diluc saw them and thought of him.  Kaeya smiled and didn’t tease him about it.

Diluc brought a bouquet of calla lilies to their next meeting.  Kaeya didn’t tease him about that, either.

“I went feral the first time you had a nightmare after I presented,” Diluc confessed another day, taking an afternoon walk in the Whispering Wood.  “It took Dad and two of the workers to get me under control, and they only managed it because they told me I might wake you.”

“I had no idea what a pack omega was until after you left,” Kaeya said yet another day, hiding on the roof of headquarters.  “No one thought they had to explain it to me, and I was afraid to admit I didn’t know.  I only learned by sitting in on Klee’s lessons.”

“I didn’t realize you hadn’t found a new pack until after I formally disowned you,” Diluc told him the first time Kaeya visited him at the Winery.  “But I was too stubborn and prideful to take it back.”

“I turned an entire city into a pack on accident,” Kaeya replied with a wry smile.  “Lisa had to point it out to me.”

“Am I a part of that pack?” Diluc asked.

“I don’t think I’m capable of having a pack that doesn’t include you,” Kaeya confessed.

Slowly, they got back some of what they’d lost.  Things would never be the same as they were before, but that was okay.  They were different people than they’d been four years ago; it made sense that the relationship they were building would be different, too.

When Kaeya’s next heat rolled around - the first heat in years that hadn’t been forced early or artificially delayed - he spent it with Diluc.

It felt like finally being home.

Lisa gave up on her plans to kill Diluc once she was satisfied that he and Kaeya had reconciled.  She visited Diluc at the Winery; neither she nor Diluc ever divulged what they talked about, but they did come out of it on at least somewhat friendly terms, so Kaeya let them have their secrets.

Eula only gave up on her plans to kill Diluc once Kaeya threatened to never speak to her again if she didn't.  It still wasn’t a good idea to leave them alone together, but they at least stopped growling at each other whenever they met.

Kaeya had long learned to appreciate little victories like that.

“I want to tell Jean.  About where I came from.”

Lisa looked up from her book, expression surprised and a little suspicious.  “Are you sure you want that, dearheart?”

“Maybe less ‘want to’ and more ‘probably should’,” he admitted.  “As long as Jean doesn’t know, that’s a vulnerability.  Someone else might figure it out on their own like you did.”

“I’ll go with you, darling,” Lisa offered, saving him from having to ask, and he flashed her a grateful smile.  “Were you planning to do it now?”

“No time like the present, right?”

Lisa smiled like she was fully aware that he actually meant “if I don’t do it now, I’ll lose my nerve and never do it at all,” but she let it slide, setting aside her book and standing.

“No time like the present, indeed,” she agreed.

Kaeya didn’t know if his pack even had a pack alpha, but if it did, it was probably Lisa. Even before he’d been hit over the head with the fact that they were pack at all, she’d been a source of comfort and support, had known him better than he knew himself, and that would only be natural if she was his pack alpha as well as one of his closest friends.

(And if any alpha had the mental fortitude and strength of will to play pack alpha to two packs at once, it was Lisa.)

Lisa reached out, twining their fingers together, and led him out of the library.  She walked him down to Jean’s office and stood beside him while he faced the Acting Grand Master, quite literally holding his hand through the ordeal.  When the anxiety made it a struggle for Kaeya to breathe normally, let alone speak, she took over that for him, too.  He was able to just stand there, surrounded by the scent of lightning-touched roses, and let his greatest secret be exposed rather than having to reveal it himself.

It was more of a relief than he’d expected.

Jean ordered him to tell no one else.  That was her only reaction.

Lisa, Jean, and Rosaria spent the night with Kaeya that night, to make sure he knew nothing had changed.  Rosaria admitted she’d known for a while, but didn’t get what the big deal was.

Rosaria didn’t get what the big deal was about a lot of things.  Kaeya could see why Jean and Lisa liked her so much.

Kaeya’s pack gained and lost members as time passed.  Not everyone wanted to be part of such a sprawling nontraditional pack, after all, but Kaeya was willing to accept anyone who did, and everyone knew it.  It became something of a source of pride to a lot of the citizens: Captain Kaeya Alberich, Mondstadt’s Omega.  Lots of nations had Archons, but only Mondstadt had a city-wide pack omega.

When a dragon descended on the city, when a flighty bard who knew far more than he should blew into town, when a mysterious traveler swept in to save the day, Mondstadt didn't falter.

Kaeya is Mondstadt’s omega, after all, and he’s very good at his job.