Chapter Text
The Angel Share’s tavern is aglow in golden swaths of light, setting the night’s tempo in its liveliness. It’s busy, no doubt — ale mugs clink in celebration at one table, whereas liquor glasses slam on others in the spirit of competition; regardless of the customer’s choices of drink, everyone enjoys themselves on such a cloudless evening.
The mood is further compelled by Diluc’s appearance, the tavern owner himself; it’s impressive to everyone that he is so endowed with wealth and stellar reputation, but yet chooses to work as much as his barkeeper.
His riches do not poison him with entitlement, that much is clear. The young winery owner busies himself with preparing orders and cleaning glasses, timely and skilled.
Perhaps it’s concerning then, that in contrast to the joyous conversation and banter, Kaeya is slumped over his usual spot at the bar. He’s not only lethargic, but clearly has imbibed in one too many.
And not in joyous pretenses.
Diluc finds himself so caught up in the night’s business — it’s bordering on hectic — that he doesn’t even notice his brother’s abnormal silence. It’s not until he’s picking up some wine glasses from further down the bar that his eyes catch a glimpse of Kaeya’s head, resting in his folded arms upon the wooden surface.
He frowns, at first in disgust — Archons, Kaeya, how much did you drink? — but it shifts to a flicker of concern as he sees the ragged shrugs of his shoulders with each breath. Though he can’t hear it through the cacophany of conversations in the tavern, it appears Kaeya is wheezing.
The scarlet-haired man shifts further down the bar, attempting to take a closer look at Kaeya’s half-concealed face. Though he doesn’t want to appear terribly concerned — after all, they aren’t exactly on stellar terms.
But Diluc remembers quite a bit about his brother, regardless of their tense relationship at present. Kaeya was prone to bouts of respiratory illness in childhood, apparently triggered by an allergy, hay fever, or a shift in the weather. He had the same shrug to his shoulders when ill, as if it took tremendous effort to draw in a breath. It worried him and their father terribly, but as Kaeya grew older, he seemed to outgrow the ailment altogether.
Diluc tries to dismiss the idea as mere coincidence. He’s simply had too much to drink, he reassures himself, placating whatever worry had sprouted in his head. His theory is bolstered by Kaeya shakily raising his empty glass towards him.
”I’ll have another,” Kaeya mutters, his words slurred incoherently.
Diluc doesn’t need him to repeat what he’s said. The glass is context enough. He shakes his head — against his logic wanting to leave Kaeya alone to lose himself in an alcohol-induced stupor. It doesn’t sit right with him.
”I believe you’ve had one too many, Sir Kaeya.” He reaches for the glass, surprised that there’s no resistance as he takes it, cleaning it thoroughly.
Kaeya rests his hand back beneath his chin, propping up his head slightly. When Diluc glances towards him, his brow knits as he sees his starry eye glazed over, its normal glint replaced with a sickly gloss.
What little he can see of the Cavalry Captain’s cheeks appear flushed, and there’s a slight tremor in his arms along with the whistling rasps he can now hear more clearly. He’s feverish, too.
”I don’t think I’ve had enough, actually,” Kaeya mumbles. His half-lidded eye barely looks up at his brother, and his string of words are lost to his sleeves.
”You can barely speak, much less hold up your head. You’re drunk. And sick, on top of it.”
Diluc’s snappish reply garners a phlegmy cough from the Cavalry Captain, as if it’s only more evidence that he’s in no state to be consuming more alcohol than he already has.
“I’m fine, Diluc,” Kaeya rasps, swallowing thickly. He straightens up in his seat, raising his head — a herculean effort, judging by the way his breathing becomes shallow. His starry gaze narrows upon his estranged sibling with a brief flare of frost. ”I managed just fine without you for all those years you were gone, did I not?”
A strange twist of guilt gnaws at Diluc’s chest as he pours out a glass of wine for another table.
”At least let me walk you home, then.” There’s almost a hint of uneasiness that threatens to creep its way into Diluc’s words, but he manages to remain as neutral as possible.
It’s of no surprise, though, that Kaeya declines.
In fact, the Captain slips off of the barstool with the coordination of a puppet too heavy for its strings, and Diluc instinctively attempts to grab his brother’s arm to steady him. Kaeya notices, ripping his arm away from the man’s grasp as he shuffles backward.
“Don’t touch me,” He wheezes, his tone sharpened like a blade’s edge despite his intoxication. He wobbles slightly, touching a hand to his forehead with a cringe on his face. ”I can find my way home. I don’t need your help.”
“What if you fall? Or hurt yourself?”
Kaeya laughs dryly, though it’s accompanied by yet another rattling cough that nearly unbalances him where he stands.
"Since when have you concerned yourself with my wellbeing?"
Diluc’s guilt twists sharply like a knife to the gut. He wants to explain that he’s just worried — regardless of all that’s estranged them now, they were brothers. They cared for each other, looked out for each other growing up. Even as Knights, that didn’t change — they continued to have each others’ backs, supporting and encouraging.
But he knows that’s behind them now. Their past is dead and buried, and they’ve never mended what’s been broken. The twisted burn scars lacing Kaeya’s exposed arms makes that all too clear.
Diluc attempts to speak, to refute Kaeya’s question — but he’s met with a raised hand to silence him before he can gather the words.
”You know what? Forget it. Don’t even bother answering that.”
Kaeya doesn’t give his brother a second glance before heading towards the tavern’s door, bracing himself against the wall before opening it. Before he hobbles outside, he says, "Take care of your patrons, Master Diluc. Forget about me."
The door slams shut, and he’s gone.
Their unsettling exchange of words has left the tavern in a momentary pause, with onlookers peering at the two brothers through their drinks. However, as with all spontaneous happenings in the establishment, everyone soon returns to their usual racket.
Diluc, however, remains still, staring intently at the door as if expecting Kaeya to return. As if expecting him to come back and give him room to express himself differently. To let him apologize. Worry churns inside his chest, turbulent and persistent.
It’s all against his better judgement. Against every pillar of logic he’s built for the past few years. To separate himself from the man he once accepted wholeheartedly as family.
He’s inebriated, he’s ill, and I just let him leave. He grips the bar counter until his knuckles are white, trying to reason with himself. To not let the sentiments of the past drive his thinking towards the irrational and emotional. No, let him leave. He’s not your responsibility.
Not anymore.
Diluc sighs. They have no obligation to look out for each other now. And while both of them contributed to the vicious fight they’d had that fateful night, it was Diluc himself who chose to draw blood. To raise his flames against a man he’d grown up with. That he knew. No, that he thought he knew.
Between the temptation to follow his brother out the door and remain in the tavern’s bar, Diluc ultimately chooses the latter. Kaeya doesn’t want him around, anyways. He’s made that vividly clear.
To distract himself from any second thoughts, he busies himself with the abundance of dirty glasses he has to wipe downStill, every so often, his eyes glance up to the door.
Something tugs at him, somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind. Perhaps it’s mourning. He’s had his throes of grief with his father’s death, but now he mourns the loss of a brother he cherished. The childhood they shared. The memories they instilled in the very core of their minds. Every moment of joy and happiness and worries untethered and unconcerned have been reduced to ashes. Muddled with the rage, the fear, and grief from that night.
It plagues him to dwell on it. He continues to bury himself in his work, mundane as it may be — it’s better than wondering if he and Kaeya would ever be on better terms again.
To be brothers again.
The night is still and serene. The tavern brims with life and vigor.
Stay safe, Kaeya.
Getting home is going to be a bigger challenge than he initially thinks.
Kaeya’s head spins with each step, the skies and the earth twisting around violently with a wave of nauseating vertigo. Not even close to his home, he leans against the wall of another house adjacent to him, groaning as he clenches his eyes shut to ameliorate the dizziness. Ouch.
On top of his obvious inebriation, his chest heaves tremendously with each inhale, suffocating and painful. The accumulation of phlegm inside his throat only adds to the sensation that he’s being crushed — or buried alive. Neither of which are pleasant thoughts, but his predicament might as well be of a similar urgency.
The spinning abates momentarily, just enough for the Cavalry Captain to weakly push away from the wall. It’s barely a recovery, and along with his staggering breaths, his stomach churns and twists with the threat of expelling its contents.
Swallowing back the bile in his throat, he pauses just to get his bearings. He knows the city like the back of his hand — the hand he now uses to wipe a bead of febrile sweat trickling down his forehead. All he has to do is shuffle down the end of this block, turn right, then a left..and he’s home.
Kaeya begins his uncoordinated sojourn, but every few paces he must pause to allow for the waves of dizziness to subside, and the wracking fits of coughing to cease.
It’s tumultuous enough that Kaeya’s legs refuse to cooperate, his strides awkward and uneven to compensate for his gross lack of balance. It’s yet another woe on his mind that his ailment has seeped into his core, as he alternates frequently from shivering old to sweltering hot.
Above it all, the moonlit stretch of sky muddles with brooding clouds. He barely notices the shift in temperature — his body is having its own thermoregulatory crisis — until the first patter of raindrops hit his skin.
"Shit," He mutters aloud, forcing his body to lurch forward and continue down the street. He has no choice, does he? The fever raging within him, however, is beginning to make him light-headed. And as the gentle trickle suddenly entrenches the city in a fierce downpour, Kaeya steadily becomes more disoriented.
The heavy rainfall obscures his already blurry vision, and even the obvious direction of his route is no longer comprehensible to him. "I’m lost," He slurs, stumbling over his toes for the upteenth time, "I’m so fucking lost."
As he barely catches himself, he begins to laugh, bent over with his hands pressed against his thighs. The merciless onslaught of precipitation soaks his cloak and the rest of his uniform, tendrils of water dripping down the edges of the fabric and down the cerulean locks of hair that plaster his face.
He laughs, and laughs some more, and he’s not quite sure why. He’s drunk — terribly so. He’s so pathetically laden with booze, he can’t make heads or tails of a street he’s wandered every day for years.
He’s so pathetic, he can’t even make things right with his own brother.
He can’t begin to find the words for how Diluc must’ve felt on a night like this, soaked in rain and the blood of their father as he lay dead before their very eyes.
How he must’ve felt when Kaeya spilled forth his true reasons for ending up at the winery, taken in by a family of endless generosity.
How it’s his fault that what brotherhood they shared has been torn to shreds.
It’s all my fault.
I’m pathetic.
Kaeya closes his eyes, clenching them tight as the dizziness becomes unbearable. The fever raging in his core is only exacerbated by the chill in the air, and he can no longer maintain his balance.
Realizing he won’t make it home, he resigns himself to the cobblestone beneath him, collapsing onto the cool stone. Small puddles of water pool around him, and as another fit of painful, wracking coughs shake his body, his sorry predicament is that much more prominent.
It’s no wonder Diluc has abandoned me. And for good reason.
It’s something that has carved a deep, sorrowful wound within — through all the charming acts and sly grandeur he portrays to everyone he crosses paths with. A superficial confidence that now, thanks to his attempt at coping with the burdens he carries, betrays him.
Perhaps this is the true Kaeya, the Kaeya that practically nobody has seen — a poor excuse of a Knight and an even poorer excuse of a brother, fully prepared to drown in a two-inch puddle. If only the nation he’s served so proudly could see him now. To see what lies behind the well-scripted spectacle of an actor, playing a role that’s webbed in deceit.
Go figure.
Kaeya’s attempt at walking down the street has spent the last of his energy, weak from the illness inflaming his chest and the dehydration from the copious amounts of alcohol he’s consumed. The shuddering rasps of his breathing slow as his eyes start to close. Perhaps I’ll die here.
Fate seems to spare him, however, when something dark emerges from behind a nearby bush. Through the sheets of relentless rain, Kaeya spots a shadow approaching him.
It’s a dog, seemingly unbothered by the elements as it stands and watches him. He just barely notices the odd spark of silvery light from one of its eyes, a shimmering beacon through the darkness.
It draws closer, and closer, and closer, silent in its steps. Its figure, short-furred and slender, stands over him briefly. Charcoal like the iron ore that crops up on cliffsides, only interrupted by the white patches that cover its shimmering eye, the star on its chest, and the tips of the toes Kaeya can just barely make out through his fading consciousness.
What an odd dog..almost reminds me of me. He can barely respond, only wheezing softly as the dog turns once, twice, then curls up against his body, offering some much needed warmth.
As the rain drenches them both, Kaeya no longer comprehends the arrival of his strange companion before darkness consumes him.
Dawn has not even cracked the horizon when Diluc arrives in the city. As much as he dislikes early mornings, it’s inventory day — a crucial part of being a tavern owner, ensuring his supplies are well-stocked and inspected.
Hooves clack across the cobblestone as he rides down the street leading towards the tavern, the animal’s steady gait lulling him into a sense of monotony. He’s not expecting anything extraordinary today — but the events of last night, and the spat with Kaeya, still leave him conflicted.
Diluc’s mind spares no details in looping what he could’ve done, something he finds exhausting. Regret weighs heavily on the soul, no doubt — being confronted with it is even more draining.
He dismounts upon reaching the tavern, tying his horse to nearby post. Instead of dwelling upon the convoluted and tumultuous relationship he has with his sibling, he tries to submerge himself into the finer points of calculating his wine stocks — per barrel and per bottle. There’s the liquors and ale as well, can’t forget those. The ledgers, too, and the total accumulation of tax based on his purchased goods for the last month..
Diluc sighs heavily, producing a folded piece of parchment from his coat pocket. He’s sure he’s written everything down, but he peruses it anyways, just in case his memory begets him.
Engaged in his to-do list, he barely hears the clicking of nails across the stoney road.
Then, a sharp bark.
He’s pulled from his task with a start, practically jumping out of his skin at the sudden noise — he’s just short of summoning his claymore when his eyes catch a strange dog staring intently at him.
Normally the absence of a foe would bring one some relief, but Diluc remains tense as he stares back at the dark-furred creature, parchment crumpling in his clenched fist.
He’s not fond of dogs. Of all the creatures he’s enjoyed the company of, canines are not one of them. Ever since a terrifying incident as a child — whereupon a stray dog had clamped its jaws around his wrist and near fractured it, merely because he attempted to feed it — he’s kept his guard up around the strays that frequent the city’s paths.
It’s not a dog he recognizes — most of the ones he’s seen are of a tawny shade, or grey splashed with white — but this one is pitch black, save for some bizarre white markings interrupting the shadowy abyss of its slender form.
Its tail is sickled, crested over its hind end, wagging slightly here and there. Moreover, its eyes are of two different colors. Its ears, perked and upright, stand at attention. It seems just as alert as Diluc is.
"Shoo," Diluc says to it, stern and commanding as possible. He takes a strong step forward, desiring as much distance from it as possible. "Get out of here." He can’t deny that its appearance, as well as its strange stare, is beginning to garner nervousness in him.
It stubbornly refuses to run away outright. Instead, it trots a few steps down a street just around the corner, disappearing and then promptly returning to see that Diluc hasn’t budged. It stares at him for a few more seconds, as if confused as to why the man is just standing there, bracing himself.
Bark!
Diluc flinches at its call, wondering what it’s exactly trying to accomplish by trotting around the corner and then coming back to bark at him. He’s annoyed. He’s not in the mood to be playing games with this dog — surely it’s unwell, judging from its odd behavior. All the more reason for him to ignore it and hope it’ll lose interest.
He scowls at it, stepping back, though his eye is still trained upon it. He doesn’t quite want to turn his back on it, either. Before he can attempt to glance at his crumpled list again, the dog lies down on the cobblestone and whines pititfully.
Perhaps it wishes to gain his favor by appearing less intimidating, or perhaps its senses his surge in anxiety in its presence. But either way, Diluc’s attention is drawn away from his work as he glanced back at it, wondering what it’s trying to accomplish.
He decides to swallow back his old phobia, if not to see what it wants. As he carefully walks toward it, though maintaining distance, the dog rises and promptly trots down the street it disappeared behind before. A few strides ahead of Diluc, it suddenly pauses, turning its head back at him. Waiting for him.
Bark! Bark!
Suddenly, he understands — it wants him to follow it.
Why it wants him, of all the dog-loving locals it could’ve chosen, he cannot ascertain. But he’ll indulge the animal regardless, if not for its incessant determination. It continues to trot forward a few strides, then look back as if to ensure he’s still following, up until they reach one of the more overgrown segments of the various alleyways that encompass the city’s walled metropolis.
The association between him and the dog becomes clearer as Diluc notices a figure slumped over against a wall. The dog stands beside it, unleashing a rather proud bark and a wag of its tail. When the morning light finally casts the wall in its glow, his eyes widen upon realizing it’s Kaeya laying there.
Diluc reaches down to gently shake his brother’s shoulder, hoping he’s just passed out drunk. But with the downpour that befell the nation last evening, combined with his brother’s condition, alarm sets in at his unresponsiveness.
"Kae.” He shakes his shoulder, more roughly this time. Not even a stir. "Kae. KAE!"
Kaeya remains still, his breathing labored and crackled. Frantic, Diluc presses a hand against his brother’s forehead, finding he’s burning up. Even his Cryo vision can’t taper his illness’s effects.
"Shit," He hisses under his breath. He needs to be seen by a healer immediately. He manages to slip his arms beneath his brother’s back and legs, carrying him on a difficult and arduous journey towards the cathedral. All the while, he curses the sheer amount of steps he has to traverse, and he hopes there aren’t too many townsfolk to stare at the sight of a winery owner carrying their unconscious Cavalry Captain through the city.
When he looks behind him, the mysterious dog has disappeared without a trace.
"Just what happened to him?"
Jean’s question rings with a tone of deep-seated distress as she furrows her brow, glancing up at Diluc with an air of desperation.
They stand in the hallway of the cathedral’s infirmary, waiting for news of Kaeya’s condition. Word travels fast, but the Acting Grand Master is that much swifter; especially when it concerns one of her own knights.
He hesitates. Truthfully, he isn’t aware of what exactly occurred once his brother left his establishment. What he does know, however, is that he was responsible for letting him leave in such a poor state. She’ll chew me out for it, I’m sure. Regardless, Jean’s wits are as sharp as her own blade, and he’s not in any position to omit detail where it’s due.
"He drank quite heavily at my tavern last night, and had a nasty cough at that. Kept insisting he was fine — I offered to walk him back to his house, but he refused and left on his own."
He pauses, attempting to follow up with a defense as to why he didn’t just follow after him until Jean responds.
"I don’t blame you, ‘Luc. I know you and Kaeya aren’t on the best of terms, and haven’t been for some time. It’s just that.."
She crosses her arms in front of her, biting her lip. "He’s never allowed himself to lose his senses entirely."
"Even if anything’s been bothering him, he hasn’t approached me about it." Diluc shrugs, turning his head to look down the rows of beds.
"I see. It’s just..not like him. You know?"
She’s made a fair point. Kaeya relishes a good glass of Death After Noon, or some wine — but he takes care to remain within the realm of sobriety. Maintaining his wits about him so as to continue his duties.
His thoughts return to the strange dog that he’d followed earlier that morning, the one that hovered around his brother as if familiar with him.
”Just out of curiosity..has Kaeya gotten a dog recently?”
Jean appears surprised by his question, her face contorted in an expression of confusion as she shakes her head.
”Not that I’m aware of. Why do you ask?”
”I..it’s nothing, I suppose — there was this dog that led me right to where I found Kaeya. Otherwise I might not have discovered him so quickly.”
“He’s mentioned feeding the stray dogs and cats from time to time. Perhaps it’s one of those creatures returning the favor.”
It makes sense. Perhaps it was merely grateful for Kaeya’s kindness. His brother always held an affection for animals, particularly the starving and the abandoned. He lets the topic fade away, and with it, any additional thought about his encounter.
He finds himself struggling to maintain his stoic demeanor as they wait. Not trying to appear unbothered, but he’s far from hysterical. The horrors he’s endured over the years have effectively blunted him. But upon catching the fear in Jean’s eye as a nun approaches them, he realizes not even she can effectively compartmentalize all of her emotions.
Not when her friend, and his sibling, are concerned.
Diluc remains at Kaeya’s bedside throughout the night. His labored breaths and scorching fever are attributed to a bout of pneumonia — particularly nasty, but he’ll survive.
It’s still of little consolation for him. He won’t even take his eyes off of his brother as he sleeps, making sure his chest rises and falls with each breath. Even if it’s uneven, or shallow, or followed with a thickly gurgling cough. It’s better than nothing at all.
Sitting idle for hours on end allows one’s mind to wander. Diluc’s is no exception. His thoughts loop endlessly, attempting to rifle through his worries and exploit them for their own amusement. You did this to him, they whisper. You drove him down this path, of loathing and conflict. Instead of protecting him, you left him in his darkest moments.
Look where that got him.
He doesn’t wish to indulge his inner torment any longer, but the words continue to flutter about in his head regardless. A reminder. A punishment. Did he not promise their father, all those years ago, that he would protect Kaeya with his life?
That he would not seek to put him in harms’ way, no matter the circumstance? That he would ensure his little brother received all the happiness, kindness, and generosity bestowed upon him, that he would be raised as if he was their own blood?
Diluc has failed in his promises. Miserably.
He’s wrongly deluded himself in believing that Crepus’s death broke him free of such obligations, particularly when Kaeya revealed to him the reasons of his abandonment in Mondstadt. That he was no longer required to offer him protection, happiness and warmth.
Instead, he bore the wrath of his grief-induced temper, showing Kaeya nothing but rage and mercilessness.
But a promise is not a cold-hearted contract. It cannot be conjured and then subsequently broken. A promise remains steadfast, remembered long after it has been given, even if it is not written. He takes care to remember that — if not for his own self-reprimand, but for Kaeya’s sake as well.
Diluc’s pulled from his internal reflection when he hears his brother stir. He hovers over him, hearing Kaeya’s attempt to speak — he isn’t entirely lucid, but he murmurs a barely audible set of words.
“..home..”
He strains to hear what his brother is saying. “Kae? What did you say?”
Kaeya continues to murmur the same set of words — Diluc realizes quickly that he’s speaking Khaenri’ahn, something he hadn’t done since he first arrived at the winery.
His starry eye opens, piercing through Diluc’s gaze. Not seeing him, but through him, as if he’s in a dream. Speaking to someone Diluc does not know.
”Father, take me home..please..” He mutters hoarsely, this time in the common tongue. His hand weakly grips Diluc’s wrist, as if willing him to stay. The faintest shimmer of tears pools in his eye. ”Don’t leave me here..don’t leave me.”
It strikes him, deep in his core, that Kaeya is not referring to Crepus. He’s referring to his biological father, the one that left him helpless and afraid all those years ago.
He’s not sure what to say, or do to comfort his brother except being present. His rasping murmurs continue endlessly through the night, repeating the same phrases over and over. All Diluc can do is sit next to him, albeit helplessly as his heart aches. Tensions aside, he’s never wished to see his brother suffer in such a manner.
When he becomes increasingly agitated, insisting on going home — wherever that is in his fever-addled mind — Diluc considers the closest option he can offer. If not to soothe his brother from the nightmares that seem to muddle his waning consciousness, causing him to writhe fitfully.
It’s the least he can do, if not to maintain his personal promise. To make up for his wrongs — and there are plenty of them.
The next morning, despite functioning on little sleep and sustenance, Diluc gathers his remaining strength to bring his brother down to one of the city’s side gates. He’s managed to convince the nuns that he’d best recuperate with him at his estate, and with little else they can do for his fever, they oblige.
He’s managed to get Kaeya into the saddle of his own heavyset stallion — more than capable of carrying two men upon its back. The Cavalry’s Captain’s smaller mount is poneyed next to it as they leave the confines of the city, quietly making their way towards the winery.
The thump of steady, slow hoofbeats across the earthen path provides a gentle hum of noise, save only for the occasional birdsong and leaves fluttering amongst breeze-tickled trees.
Diluc glances down towards his brother sitting in front of him and shrouded in his jacket; while he’s been breaking a sweat, balancing two horses and his sibling, it’s the least of his worries.
Kaeya’s never looked so weak. He’s practically swallowed up by his older brother’s coat, and his deep blue locks hang limply over one slumped shoulder, tousled and unkempt. He can barely lift his head, much less keep himself upright as he hunches over.
He’s ashamed. Ashamed that it took Kaeya falling so ill for Diluc to show him any sort of concern. He realizes, with a deeply ingrained, twisted grief pulling at his chest, that this is the most attention he’s given his brother in years.
Years.
What an unfathomable thought. Their father dedicated all the time he could spare to raise them together — it mattered not who was his own blood and who was adopted. He taught them to look out for one another, to not let quarrels split their precious brotherly bond apart.
Diluc doesn’t even wish to think of how Crepus would react to their fight those years ago, how they allowed themselves to destroy the last remaining factions of family they could rely on. How it is, above all, the fault he carries on his shoulders that Kaeya has slipped down this dark slope, that he’s been ignored and distanced for far too long.
Kaeya arrived to this nation a frightened boy and an outsider. Unsure of who to trust, terrified of just about everything that spoke or moved — it was Diluc and his father who showed him comfort and gave him confidence to feel he belonged. That he was, regardless of his origins, a child of this land.
Gods, he has to make things right. For his father, though gone from this world, and for Kaeya, who desperately needs his support. His last living relative.
”Where are we going?” His younger brother murmurs drowsily, his words hitched through wheezing gasps.
Diluc is still unsure if he’s aware of his surroundings. If he knows it’s his brother who helps carry him home, and not his absent father. Regardless, the man finds his throat tightening, and his eyes suddenly spark with the threat of tears yet to shed.
Swallowing back the tide of regret and grief that dares overtake him, Diluc shakily inhales, clenching his jaw as he glances down at his brother’s head, bowed down with no energy to raise it.
”Home, Kaeya. Remember?” His voice trembles slightly, and he blinks fiercly to chase away the tears. Barely steeling himself, he sees the silhouette of the mansion just beyond the crest of a hill they’ve ascended.
“I’m taking you home.”
Not far behind them, a dark, slender canine takes care to remain unnoticed, trailing behind a safe distance. It’s not keen on getting caught, but it’s drawn to the scent of a man it laid next to, one who smells of infection and is suffering deeply, inside and out.
It’s cautious, not desiring to be chased away by the fiery-haired man with him — thus, as the riders and their horses disappear over the hill, the dog remains put against its instinct to follow, sitting onto its haunches.
It’ll wait as long as it takes, but it must be next to that man again. He needs it.
It’s destined be his guardian, after all.