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Diluc could consider himself many things, and he’s sure that anyone he’s ever interacted with before would also consider him many things; despite what everybody had seemed to think, Diluc was aware of almost every rumour that circled around about him.
He had heard it all.
Somebody who overly enjoys other people’s company - with obvious exceptions to the rule - however, was not something that would appear in even the top ten of his characteristics.
His clear dislike of most of the people that visited his tavern was also something that was pretty much well known, even with his almost flawless execution of forced politeness.
People that had been drinking far more than they reasonably should have been, and apparently seemed to just be obnoxiously annoying enough to get on every other dignified person - of which there were few - in the tavern's nerves.
They were the main population that frequented, especially around this time of year
It was especially irritating, considering the sun had barely even begun to set, and everybody seemed to be attempting to give themselves alcohol poisoning.
Diluc would genuinely rather face five abyss mages than deal with the people in front of him right now.
Loathe as he was to admit it, he was tired, and he could feel the full-body ache that had set in since the waves of attacks last night. He knew he should have listened when Charles insisted that he could cover the day till night shift; but he also did not wish to do something that was unfair to him.
It was fine, it wasn’t like he was being forced to work all through the night, he’d deal with the fools here, go back to the Winery and pretend like his skull wasn’t feeling like it was about to cave in.
He’d been keeping an eye on a few of the more rowdy patrons, mentally taking note of how many drinks they’d obtained since they’d wandered in. He’d watched as they steadily grew more, and more obnoxious as time passed; and Diluc was already preparing himself for what could possibly go wrong here.
They’d hardly be the first people to cause a fight here, - it was a considerably more common occurrence then it should have been - but dealing with them was never something he took any sort of satisfaction in.
It was hardly anything to be proud of to get the win over somebody that could barely stand as-is, and only had a fifty-fifty chance of actually being able to see straight.
He hardly tolerated them on a good day, nevermind during an afternoon-to-night period where he’d gradually watched the sky darken, the drizzling of rain being an on-and-off again occurrence for the past few hours. He knew the weather well enough to recognise the slow formation of what was probably going to be a truly awful storm.
He’s jolted out of his thoughts where he’d been organising some of the bottles behind the bar by the sudden sound of hands slamming against the table, and by the screeching of chairs being pushed back suddenly.
It’s the same patrons from before, because of course it was, and apparently some sort of disagreement had broken out between the two groups occupying the back tables.
He watches with barely concealed irritation, - already coming out from behind the bar to shut this down - as the glasses on the table were knocked over with the force of the slam. The combination of shattered glass shards that he watched scatter across the floor, and the spilled drinks from said glasses; were not going to be something fun to clean later.
He hated cleaning up sticky spills like that, it was one of his least favourite parts of being here ever.
Jean had said multiple times about needing to buy a collection of sippy cups to keep stored behind the bartop, for the messier ones that were drunk here.
Diluc could never work out whether she was serious or not, considering how she often stared him down for a few seconds afterwards; but regardless it was not one he wanted to entertain.
Even if it would be hilarious to hand Kaeya one of said sippy-cups with mock seriousness the next time he showed up to irritate Diluc.
The idea of that alone almost makes him consider it. Almost.
He’s pretty sure Kaeya would throw it at his head, but it would be well worth it for that brief moment.
The sudden sounds of voices rapidly raising beyond the usual drunken pitch that all Mondstat citizens seemed to develop in any tavern, and Diluc glances up from the glass he was absently cleaning in time to watch at least two of the taverns cups go crashing to the floor in a heap of shattered glass and soon-to-be sticky alcohol; as one of the patrons took a leap across the table.
He’s ducking around the sides of the bar and making his way over as soon as he processes what’s going on, when one of the men - an overly burly guy that probably spent most of his time picking fights, judging by the vibe - rears back to throw a punch at one of the guys across from him.
As if it couldn’t get worse, that particular action seems to trigger everybody within both groups into acting like rabid dogs, and the entire tavern quickly descends into a sort of chaos that Diluc would have preferred to not have to deal with on this particular night.
His vision whites out for a moment as the mans stray fist - and glass clutched tightly in his fist - makes contact with the side of Diluc’s temple.
As such, - and only because he had already been… off his game previously to arriving at the tavern - he resists emptying the barely-existent contents of his stomach all over his tavern floor.
He’s not even sure whether the tavern floor could currently get in a worse state, bar possibly if an actual fight between vision wielders were to occur, but it was the principle of the matter.
The sudden contact shocks him enough in the moment that it sends him stumbling backwards into the railing as it knocks him off-balance. He can already feel an irritating ringing in his ear and he just knew it was going to be driving him crazy if it didn’t go away soon.
It does seem to cease the chaos that had erupted, with everybody settling almost in sync into an immediate silence, staring at the situation.
He took a deep breath inwards. And a few more just to be safe.
“I would recommend that you all leave the premise as soon as possible.” He grits out, fighting against the wave of nausea that was threatening to overcome him.
The men make a sudden move towards the exit— all drunken coordination and wounded pride— at the same time as the tavern door opens with an almost echoing bang, the Knights of Favonius on the other side of it.
Diluc was pleasantly surprised to see for once that it was not any of the knights that had been involved in this particular incident. It made an interesting change from the usual; almost pleasant.
Of course that pleased feeling only lasted moments before he registered who was leading the effort of hauling - sorry, assisting - the drunken men out of the tavern.
He makes unblinking eye contact with Kaeya for a moment, his brother's eyes raking over the way that Diluc probably looked pretty worse for wear, before turning back towards the mess around him.
The patrons that had been remaining civil the entire time had also made themselves scarce in the aftermath, bar a few stragglers that were determined to simply mind their business in the corner.
Diluc can practically feel the bruises developing as he remained crouched down trying to get all the glass shards off of the floor, and went through the painstaking process of attempting to wipe up all the spills with a cloth that he had thankfully had the foresight to keep on a stray surface.
The tavern was almost echoingly silent in the aftermath, even with the faint sounds of people within the streets, and of a few of the uninvolved knights herding off the last of the drunken men. The previous noise level had drained so suddenly, it was almost eerie.
He was not ashamed to say that he took the tiniest bit of satisfaction in watching Kaeya quite literally throw the man who had gotten the lucky hit in out the doorway.
He was so sick of funding new glasses for the place. He should just change all cups to various variations of sippy cups and plastic cups. Drunken adults could not be trusted with glass apparently.
They’d been removed from the premises as soon as the ( - ) had been able to get them actually detained - and honestly there was something almost deranged about how resilient the combination of adrenaline and alcohol could make a person - but Diluc has still almost too aware of the other patrons still in the room.
They were being much more quiet than the previous assholes, and Diluc was so thankful for that fact since he could feel a splitting headache forming in his skull.
He’s pretty sure he could feel his brain actually rattling around whenever he moved too fast, black spots occuring in the corners of his vision for split seconds.
He had a first aid kit in the back, he just had to get this under control - because the last thing he needed was somebody slipping or getting glass embedded in themselves - and then he could go and stick some sort of covering on the open cuts, and pretend like the bruises on his face weren’t developing into what was definitely something unsightly.
He’d waved away the Knights when they’d made vague remarks about needing to get it all treated, irritated at the fussing from people he didn’t particularly enjoy being around either; to say the least.
They’d thankfully gotten the hint easily enough. Probably had something to do with him outright telling them to go away.
Politely, of course.
The other patrons had apparently contented themselves to just sip on whatever they already have, thankfully not demanding anything off of him for the minute.
He’s pretty sure if any of them tried to speak to him right now, - because what has he ever done to both deserve this bullshit here and the thunderstorm outside deciding that now was just the perfect time to really start - he was going to lob the nearest solid object at their heads.
Which would… prove to be problematic to say the very least.
He was very determinedly ignoring that every crack of the sky outside was simultaneously feeling outrageously loud - even over the noises of the tavern - and the way it was making him have to resist throwing up all over the floor.
Or that may have been the head wound. And concussion.
Maybe.
He hardly notices what’s going on in the rest of the tavern when he finally stands up, aside from a brief scan to make sure nothing else was going on. Every step he took towards the back of the room again was making his head basically thump in time with his heartbeat.
It was disgusting.
He’s distracted enough scraping all of the glass and whatnot into the nearest bin, that he doesn’t hear the tavern door opening again. He barely even registers the brief silence that occurs before the chatter continued in what felt like a forced sense of normality later on.
Jean appears through the door only moments afterwards - or maybe it was longer, because Diluc is pretty sure he only blinked and she had moved across the room, so maybe he wasn’t the best judge of time as of this moment - a look of worry hidden in her steps.
“What happened?”
“Kaeya didn’t fill you in?” Diluc croaks, his voice sounding humiliatingly bad in the time it’s taken him to do go out the back. Jean’s eyebrows shoot up ever-slightly and Diluc curses himself in his head for the blatantly petulant edge that his voice had taken.
“It was one of your former-patrons that came and told me what was happening, actually, I was at Marjorie’s shop.” Her tone has an unimpressed edge, and Diluc allows himself a single not-sulky moment at the hidden reprimand.
It loses it’s impact however, when Diluc takes note of the entire vibe Jean was giving out, one that Diluc only recognised due to years-upon-years of history. The undercurrent of worry to the firmness. Diluc knew it well.
“Snitches.” He says in lieu of anything else. There’s not exactly much that he could say to deter the enter situation; it was hard to miss the glass shards and the redness that was no doubt on his face in the areas it was still stinging in. That and Kaeya was nothing if not insufferable and would share the information immediately anyway.
“It’s not snitching if they’re worried about your health.” Jean’s hands prop themselves up on her hips, one eyebrow raised as sheresponds in the driest tone imaginable. It’s a pose he’s seen her in a thousand times before, usually accompnised with a rant about something idiotic that somebody had done.
And she wonders why Barbara was such a menace when she wanted to be.
“I’m pretty sure that it’s still snitching.” Diluc pushes himself to stand upright, no longer crouched on the floor with the bag of shards. It’s Kaeya’s clearly involuntary bark of laughter at the comment - before rapidly turning around to talk to another Knight - that reminds him he was still in a public area.
They head into the back, just out of sight of the general patrons but close enough to still hear any further unfolding ruckus. Despite most of Mondstats endless drunken stupidity, they were hardly likely to try anything else in front of the Knights still lurking around.
Jean swings around to look at him as soon as they’re out of sight. Diluc does his best not to roll his eyes in a truly petulant move.
“Show me any injuries.” For somebody who’s job involved a large part of speaking to people, Jean truly had terrible people skills that she reserved for Diluc only. He appreciated the lack of beating around the bush, if he was honest.
“It’s fine, Jean. Barely a scratch, I can hardly feel anything.” Diluc insists, attempting to divert the entirety of the fuss that he could feel coming.
It’s complete and utter bullshit. He had a high pain tolerance as of now - because it sort of came with the territory - but the stinging on his face and in the side of his head, trailing down into his ear was making him feel vaguely nauseous. Everything felt off, like he was more out of place than he had ever been.
He didn’t want to admit that though, nor did he quite know how, so he just stayed silent in the face of Jean’s disbelieving gaze.
It all would have felt very condescending if this interaction had been occurring with anybody other than Jean. He’s pretty sure he would have thrown something at anybody else by now. There was a reason that Kaeya had not even attempted to interact with him with his usual insufferableness.
Jean clearly took pity on him and didn’t say anything as she went and dug out whatever first aid stuff she thought was required. Diluc was enjoying the reprieve of both noise, and the sight of everybody’s eyes on him.
He hated the way people stared after him, - or at him - on a good day, let alone when he felt a bit like he wanted to crawl into his bed and pretend like he didn’t exist for a while. It would be the talk of the town for the next two days about what unfolded, before they decided it was old news.
“Kaeya pushed the man who I’m assuming hit you into one of the dirty puddles.” Jean pipes up after a moment, breaking the steady silence that had fallen between them, and Diluc takes a moment to blink out of the haze he’d let himself fall into as he stood there.
She had apparently found everything that she needed from the kit, and was gesturing for Diluc to stay still long enough to fix everything up. Which, it was hardly as if he was going to go anywhere currently.
Diluc laughs despite himself, wincing slightly when it tugs on the days-old bruising aloing his torso,
“Should you be encouraging that”?” He just questioned back, tilting his head to the side at her request. He definitely did not wince away from the sting of antibacterials. He had suffered through far worse than the cleaning of some small cuts.
Jean could have just healed it in what would have been a much easier way for herself, but Diluc was aware that the repetitiveness of doing it in the stereotypical way, was something that brought her comfort; so he didn’t say anything.
“I didn’t laugh outright at the action, nor did I acknowledge it. As far as I’m concerned, it never happened.” Jean sounds properly offended that Diluc was even assume her to be anything other than completely professional.
“Ah, of course, clearly my mistake.”
“Obviously.”
Her tone is teasing, something light in the back of it as she murmurs about the work she’d been trying to get through earlier in the day in an attempt to distract Diluc from the entire process of cleaning the wounds up. He’d always been particularly intolerant of the steps, his father used to have to actually pin him down half the time.
Jean had taken to sitting on him at one point in time when they were around twelve or thirteen.
He loses himself in the faint monolouging that Jean had taken to doing as the distraction, the quiet atmosphere of the backrooms and a now-mostly-empty bar doing him no favours in stopping the tiredness from filling his head. Everything fades into a sort of background noise.
________
He barely remembers them closing up the tavern early for the night - some vague excuse about the incoming storming and earlier incident as Kaeya would later tell him - before it’s like he’s blinked and they’re partway through their trek to apparently the Winery.
The apparent concussion symptoms he still had leftover after everything was something that was apparently messing with his head enough still - even with Jean’s healing - that he’d found himself far more unbalanced than he would be in any other situation.
It only took a few steps where he’d stumbled over the ground they were working on, as Jean begun leading them in the direction of the winery, before she was taking a soft grip on his wrist.
“It’s been raining, and you’re concussed. I don’t want you tripping and making it worse.” Jean answers his unspoken question smoothly, her voice a mix of informative and demanding as she insisted that yes Barbara, she was the one that was going to lead them to the Winery.
“Oh. I’d be fine.” Diluc remembers to add after a moment of just letting Jean tug him along, but she just hums vaguely in response.
Diluc does know when to recognise a losing battle sometimes. He shoots an almost pleading look in Kaeya’s direction, who just smiles back at him in amusement.
So helpful wasn’t he.
“For my peace of mind then?” There’s something in Jeans voice that makes him squint at her slightly, before deciding that it’s probably just the concussion making everything seem off.
“Sure, just to make you stop worrying so much.”
“How generous.” She teases, as they set off walking, Diluc was not ashamed to admit - to himself that was, - that he was taking tentative care with each step. The last thing he needed was to trip over something and prove Jean right. Neither her, nor Kaeya would ever let him live it down.
Despite the unease he could feel bubbling under his skin about the whole scenario - because he and the others had been tentatively reconciling the history between them and the now for quite a while, but this was all pretty much pushing the edges of his comfort zone with it - Diluc found it easy to fall into the conversation that quickly arose between them.
It was easy to not pay attention to the very rapidly darkening skies above him, nor the particular chill that was settling into the air when he was focusing all of his energy into not falling directly on his face.
Maybe he should have let Jean heal him earlier, because the concussion that he had very determinedly declared a ‘minor thing’ was honestly making him want to throw up.
He’s pointedly focusing on the banter that had arisen between Jean and Barbara, with Kaeya’s token contribution to add a bit more fuel to the metaphorical fire, and not on how much he’d rather be at the Winery already.
He misses what Barbara says exactly, his mind distracted as he counted his steps beneath him absentmindedly, but he is not above admitting that it takes all his strength to not outright snicker at the sheer look of offense that Jean is making to whatever had been said. It was almost comical.
It’s not often that anybody manages to catch Jean out - it was something that had both impressed him and infuriated him in the first place - but it was always amusing to witness on the occasions that it did, because it blinded her each and every time.
“Don’t look like that, you know I’m right.” Barbara insists, somehow having been made into the unofficial leader in all of this and was steering them along the correct pathways.
Sometimes it was especially obvious that Jean had largely raised Barbara, and of the younger girls clear hero worship of her older sister whenever it was one of these moments and all her shyness seemed to melt away into determination.
“You are not. And I am not why we are here.”
Diluc resists the urge to throw a clump of dirt directly at her, in a move that would by far be considered too childish. Maybe if it was Kaeya. She could have just left him out of it.
As such, the throbbing behind his eyes prevented him from any sort of clever retort and instead was occupying most of his effort to stand upright.
He just made a noise that he would insist as being disagreeing, and that Jean would later inform him with clear amusement, was entirely petulant.
Another moment to add to the non-acknowledgement box.
“Either way, we should get there by the time this storm is upon us. It doesn’t seem to be travelling too fast, but the last thing anyone wants is to end up soaking wet.” Barbara adds helpfully, steering the conversation away from what was likely going to be twenty minutes of Jean trying to debate all the reasons why Barbara was wrong, actually thank you.
Diluc eyes the sky with trepidation as he did his best to adopt the cool sort of uncaring that he was usually able to muster, considering that the moment Barbara makes the comment about it, he becomes aware of the side eye that Kaeya and Jean both send him. It’s almost scarily in sync.
He could almost forget sometimes, the fact that they had grown up together and inherently knew things nobody else did. Kaeya probably remembers the nights spent awake together during thunderstorms; playing games and stories and whatnot to pass the time. Jean likely also remembers the various sleepovers and shenanigans when they were younger.
Diluc brushes the hair out of his face with a jerky movement, trying to clear the well of emotions and memories that the concussion was causing to surge.
“Are we going back to the winery?” Diluc makes a move to ask, the words barely coming out of his mouth before Kaeya opens his mouth only a second after,
“I’m not sure Diluc could look any more disgruntled, but best not to test it.” The words come out like he just couldn’t quite help himself; and considering the constant overwhelming urge Diluc felt to not-torment the other man, the words almost definitely were involuntary.
There’s a pause. Then there’s the telltale yelp of an iron-toed boot connected with unprotected skin. Kaeya still had his guards on, but Diluc had had many years of experience of learning soft spots.
He was concussed, and probably very bruised already, but he was not letting that slide.
“Kaeya-“ Barbara starts with indignation, honestly more offended on Diluc’s behalf than he was. It was a nice thought, considering Diluc could see Jean not even bothering to hide her snickers.
He has no idea how various diplomats and the knights and the people of Mondstat - the ones who don’t remember the before, of course - viewed Jean as this scary, overly official person.
She was absolutely efficient beyond reason, that was never something in doubt; but Diluc still remembers them swapping clothes and tearing up her good blue dress to make something to climb with on four different occasions.
And the subsequent fall when she slipped her grasp and went headfirst into the genuinely most gross muddy-water-stuff that he’d probably ever seen.
It had been funny when it was her, and then she had dragged him down into the water alongside her and suddenly nothing was funny anymore. Still, it made it hard for any sort of intimidation to really have impact.
The insufferableness of their younger siblings when they had returned mud-covered and soaking wet was something that still made him snicker and groan simultaneously if he thought about it for too long.
Barbara had been carefully concerned the entire time, even with the carefully curated chaoticness that generally came alongside interactions with them - not that any of them would admit that to anybody outside of their group - but she had practically forced the two of them to get changed and made sure that nobody was hurt.
Maybe just their pride that day, and Diluc’s cheek from where Jean had thrown a rock at him upon him referring to her as ‘milord’ mockingly.
Kaeya had just stood there and laughed, before cheerily informing him that he was absolutely telling their father, and well; soon both of them were covered in mud and the threat had lost significant weight.
They resumed their pace towards their destination, the conversation starting back up after only a moment. Diluc for his own peace of mind was pretending he couldn’t notice the way that Kaeya had made himself known beside Diluc’s shoulder, hovering an inch away; as though if he looked away for second, Diluc was going to pass out and die or something.
An unneeded fuss of course, Diluc was much too put together to simply pass out. He had received plenty of concussions throughout the duration of his life, especially the last few years; he knew when one was especially serious. This wasn’t.
Still, for all that Adelinde was in no way or shape blood related to either him nor Kaeya, his brother had somehow inherited her ‘mother-henning’ tendencies when he wanted to. Diluc resisted the urge to slide away slowly, he’s pretty sure Kaeya would end up following him anyway.
________
He almost doesn’t remember the rest of the journey to the Winery, everything fading into a steady haze he couldn’t quite pinpoint beneath the concussed fog in his head.
He remembers informing everyone quietly of the various facts he had memorised about the birds and insects in the area, and laughing at Jean when she - ironically - slipped in a stray mud puddle on the road.
He remembers blinking blearily at Adelinde as she opened the door and ushered them in, quiet words being exchanged that he couldn’t bring himself to really try and focus on.
They had made it back just as the storm had begun to actually start, the rain beginning to patter against the roof within seconds of getting inside the door; Barbara had been eerily accurate with her weather guesses.
Diluc had stayed pressed against the arm of the couch - practically blending into the cushions - since they’d gone through to the main living room.
A part of him felt bad, and guilty about the cushions being dirty and the whole way everything felt wrong, but right now he couldn’t find the will to even budge from where Jean had steered him over.
The energy that he’d found himself with during the walk back was very quickly fading in the face of the quiet atmosphere. It was like everything had settled for a moment, and he was suddenly back to being hyper aware of how much his head and ribs hurt, and the conditions outside.
He was overly aware of how damp his hair had begun to feel since they had settled inside, and it was making him vaguely want to go at it with the dagger he could spot over on one of the bookend tables.
He could feel Kaeya’s occasional glances as he went about whatever design he had come up with in his head about how the fort should look, with Barbara contributing to where she felt the design was lacking.
Diluc was only half paying attention of course, torn between focusing on not spilling the grape juice anywhere that had been carefully shoved into his hand by Jean upon their arrival, insisting to an amused - and albeit slightly worried looking - Adelinde that yes she could do it, it’s fine, before she disappeared off to the kitchen to make vaguely terrifying clanging sounds.
The whole scene felt rather childish, if Diluc was to look any closer at it than usual, he’s not sure how Kaeya had even managed to convince Adelinde to commit to the process of building - in his exact words - ‘the coolest fort ever’, but he does suspect it was entirely due to Barbara’s influence, and the longstanding clear favouritism that Adelinde always had.
He had words for anybody that ever insisted that Barbara was the sweet, good younger sister of Jean; the girl was a downright menace. Jean had raised her far too well, in every regard.
“-luc? Thoughts?” Diluc zones back in to Kaeya’s questioning voice, Barbara having apparently disappeared off in the time that Diluc had allowed his mind to wander, to go and assist - or whatever it was that she had phrased the assistance as being - with finding some snacks.
“What?”
“The layout. Do you like it?” Kaeya nudged the edges of a blanket, and the frankly insane amount of pillows with a booted foot, his outfit half stripped into something more casual, yet slightly on edge. Even though the frankly revolting feeling of cotton-blankets in his brain, he could still read the tension in Kaeya’s frame.
“It’s good,” Diluc starts, pausing to clear his throat as he worked out how to get his mouth to form around the words he needed them to, “I had forgotten how good you were at forts.”
It wasn’t a lie. Diluc tended to avoid thinking of any of the memories split into the before-during times, focusing clearly on the here-and-now, but he did occasionally remember the frankly impressive forts that Kaeya had assembled over the years when they were young. Their father had allowed them to commander the living room on multiple occasions.
The clean up process was almost irritating enough to make him hate it, why did folding blankets take so incredibly long to fold back up afterwards. His father used to nag him endlessly about remembering to fold them back up; he usually just found a way to bribe Kaeya into doing it for him.
“I have had a-plenty of practice. I’ve been teaching Klee the art of them.”
“Is she just as insane as you are about it?”
Kaeya makes a spluttering, mock-offended noise in response, bundling up a loose sheet in his hands and throwing it softly in Diluc’s direction. Even the inherent gentleness in the actions made Diluc more aware than he wanted to be about how different everything was feeling.
Him and Kaeya had reached a tentative, careful point where they could exist in the same area without either of them beginning to act like some sort of creature, but ideally Diluc would have nobody and nothing experience his company when he was so… unbalanced. Baring Jean, perhaps, simply due to their longstanding history, and the fact that she gets it.
“I feel like I maybe shouldn’t answer that.” Kaeya teases lightly, and Diluc can’t help the snicker that escapes him at the telltale way Kaeya immediately was avoiding eye-contact.
He had totally taught Klee to be as intense about them as he was; Diluc would have the utmost sympathy for the Alchemist if Diluc wasn’t aware that the man had invited it on himself.
“That’s enough of an answer in itself.” Diluc can’t help but throw back, his mouth cooperating with him how he needed it to for once, and he looks on with amusement as Kaeya sniffs in mock-offence turning around to go and nudge a few more pillows into place around the sides.
He doesn’t stay in the room for very long after that, finishing up what he was doing before heading off to the kitchen at the sound of Barbara calling for him.
It’s around the same time that Adelinde enters, and Diluc is back to doing his best to not take notice of anything going on around him, in case his brain locks in on the gradually increasing sound of rain hitting the roof, and pelting the windows; but it’s hard to miss the somehow knowing look that the two of them share on Kaeya’s way out.
Diluc isn’t too proud to admit that he mostly really just wants to go to bed right now and go to sleep.
“So, Master Diluc,” Adelinde starts, moving forward to brush a damp curl out of Diluc’s eyes.
It’s a testament to how honestly crap Diluc was feeling right now that he didn’t say anything - because even with the minimal bit of healing that Barbara was able to conduct earlier, it didn’t take everything away - and Adelinde continued smoothly,
“I heard the Tavern did not go entirely well?” He appreciated her attempt at pretending like they didn’t both know full well the disaster that the afternoon had turned out to be. He knew full well however, that Kaeya - and likely Barbara - had snitched the minute they walked through the doorway.
Diluc could still hear the sounds of clattering in the kitchen, more-so now than there was before since Kaeya had gone to join them. Diluc just hoped nobody was going to get further injured in any way.
Everyone was exceptionally talented and strong individuals - even Kaeya, he would admit - but something about existing in each other's proximity for more than a short period of time made all of the collective intelligence seem to just… disappear.
Diluc chose to blame it on Kaeya.
It’s probably why he was always around sticking his nose in other peoples business, because Jean couldn’t keep him around the main headquarters without risking giving away her own reputation as not being as utterly deranged.
He thought it all with good humour of course, but it was definitely something he was adding to his mental list to tease Kaeya about at a later date.
He was surprised that there weren’t other people floating around at this time, considering it would typically be before everybody would disperse for the night, but he couldn’t find anything in him to complain about.
The fewer people to witness his… everything that was going on, the better.
“It was… fine.” Diluc starts, his voice coming out far quieter and off-kilter than he had intended, “You are aware of how people get with their alcohol, it was as expected.” He finishes, coughing softly to try and sound as he normally would.
He was more than adept usually at knowing how, and what to say to mimic his normal patterns when he got… like this; but considering the raised eyebrow that Adelinde sent his way, it was safe to assume that he had steadily failed.
“Really? So you get hit in the head with glass cups every shift?”
Diluc was no longer enjoying the peace and quiet that came with the lack of Kaeya and Jean’s presence - Barbara was no longer included in this statement, as she was usually quite a delight - and was very rapidly rather wishing that any of them would make a perfect-timing reappearance to the living room.
“Well, no- but you know what people are like. Just a bit of rowdiness.” It’s a weak reassurance and he’s more than aware of it, this was hardly his best work with defence and explanations, but he’s not even sure he can string apart his individual thoughts at the current moment, everything blurring and muddling together in his brain.
As if sensing how desperately Diluc was wishing for one of them to appear, if only to bail him out from the disapproving energy that he could feel radiating from Adelinde as she spoke to him; he heard the sounds of Kaeya’s boots on the flooring.
Adelinde busied herself with placing some of the extra blankets and pillows that she had gone off to collect upon request.
Diluc was steadily pretending he couldn’t hear what was being said in the underlying tone. It was his personal least favourite thing about any sort of situation, when he was forced to admit that somebody else was in fact right.
He’d genuinely rather get severely wounded than admit that he was wrong about something, not unless he was completely and utterly forced to.
He’d been gambling with his odds at avoiding Adelinde’s unspoken ‘I-told-you-so’ that he was possibly about to incur when it was simply just a general feeling of shittiness when he had headed off for the shift in the first place; and then everything had gone down and he could practically already hear it.
“Had fun while I was gone?” Kaeya pipes up, stepping forward through the door entryway, a few bowls of various fruits balanced in his grip that he made a move to play down on the low-table they’d moved over closer to the quickly-assembling blanket fort..
Kaeya sent a cheeky smile Adelinde’s way, before poking his tongue out at Diluc teasingly upon Diluc rolling his eyes exaggeratedly behind her back. Adelinde turned back around at the action, an eyebrow raised as Diluc hurried to turn his face into the picture of innocence again.
She looked as fond as she did exasperated.
Whatever it was that Adelinde had planned to say was quickly cut off at the sound of Jean and Barbara’s sudden reappearance into the room. Diluc felt that familiar, precious anxiety make its own reappearance.
He felt Adelinde’s gaze on him as she begun speaking— Kaeya’s too, if Diluc was to pay any real attention— and he tried not to let the entire idea of everything make his chest hurt. He felt far too reactive to everything around him, it was kind of awful.
“Right, you all desperately require some freshening up, especially before you eat. I trust you all know your ways around?” Her voice takes on a teasing note at the end, even as her face and mannerisms remain the picture of professionalism.
It's an odd, perfectly developed duality of formality and informality; it’s one that Diluc, and Kaeya, had heard a hundred times growing up.
The other three make vague sounds of agreement, Barbara especially taking a moment to thank Adelinde for everything, her tone earnest. Diluc always knew that Barbara was the actual real favourite, he’s not sure why any of them ever thought otherwise.
“I think I have some stuff in my wardrobe if you’d like something more comfortable,” Kaeya offers after a beat of everyone processing what Adelinde had said, to which the younger girl just nods in agreement; it would hardly be the first time that she’d ended up borrowing something of Kaeya’s throughout their life.
Despite that they’d done their best to give her whatever various items of Jean’s wardrobe that had ended up in Diluc’s when they could, sometimes it was simply not possible, and the four of them had split very evenly into their Kaeya-and-Barbara, and Jean-and-Diluc sort of solidarity.
The younger siblings versus older sibling dynamics, if you would. If Diluc was any less prideful about it all, he’d be willing to admit the irony of how everything had flipped backwards now.
“Come along ‘Luc, I’m raiding your clothes for a shirt and whatnot.” Jean sighs dramatically after a moment, holding out her hand for Diluc to grab and haul himself up with, “Lead the way!” He appreciated her attempt at deflecting the attention off of how unsteady everything was feeling.
Diluc was almost always so on his game, it was one of his better traits, how alert he was, it was disorientating to be anything less than.
He steals a slice of apple on his way past, squinting playfully at Kaeya’s teasing look as they wandered past; the other boy presumably leading Barbara to borrow something from whatever was left of his wardrobe from years ago.
It was vaguely reminiscent of the way everything would play out when they were actual kids, and judging by the amused look Adelinde was pretending to not have, she was aware of the similarities just as much as he was.
“You don’t have to run y’know, the clothes aren’t going anywhere.” Diluc teases after a moment, the sudden silence away from the organised chaos of the living room letting up on the constant throbbing in the back of his head and letting him work out how to speak normally again; if only for a moment.
He can feel Jean’s eyeroll in response, even without being able to actually see her face. Honestly he envied her when she got like this, she got to have that vaguely amusing time of just chilling, whilst Diluc had to contend with having the emotional reactivity of an actual toddler; it was inherently humiliating despite any assurances otherwise.
As if sensing the rapidly growing anxiety in Diluc’s feelings, between both the storm that had been rapidly getting more and more chaotic since they had arrived back at the Winery, and the general anxiety around feeling so off-kilter; Jean slowed her past down to a more casual stroll.
If nothing else, at least the bossiness was familiar, even if there had been the barely noticeable distance that had been sitting between them since Diluc had returned.
“Yeah, but if we take too long, then Barbara and Kaeya are going to eat all the perfect pieces of fruit. And the good slices of bread. Do you really want our siblings to get that.” She responds almost conspiratorially, and Diluc laughs despite himself.
It had been a while since the four of them had interacted without all the fanfare of complicated histories and feelings and duties; he’d forgotten the comfort of everything.
“Barbara is too polite to eat all the good pieces, I don’t know how she's related to you.”
“I think I liked you much more when you’re too fogged up to be a smartass.” Jean retorts, turning them abruptly as they arrived at Diluc’s bedroom, and DIluc was once again thankful for his best friends tact around not mentioning the… emotional skill regression, or whatever he had insisted it be called when Adelinde had spoken to him about it weeks ago,
“Okay, here we go, let’s get this going. I’ll find pajamas, and you go and find where Birdy ended up.” Jean declares, wasting no time in beginning to rummage through Diluc’s wardrobe for whatever it was that she was deeming appropriate.
Diluc felt the colour rush to his cheeks despite himself at how flippantly she says it. Like no time had passed at all since they were ten and the same situation was occurring, he pauses where he’s stood, the sudden anxiety rearing its head at the idea of well, everything.
It was one thing to admit to this particular weakness in the privacy of his own home, when it was just purely him by himself - excluding the occasions where Adelinde or Elzer were not willing to turn a blind eye to everything, or when Jean and him managed to make a little bit of time where they weren’t both utterly overrun with their responsibilities - and having everything on display in front of people.
He knew they would not be cruel, - or he had reasonable sureness about it at least, but the idea still made his skin crawl. This was entirely new territory, with people he’d only really just begun to rebuild the connections that he had - pun unintended - burnt to the ground in truly spectacular ways.
Suddenly it was like a switch had flipped and everything around him had dialed itself back up to one hundred. His skin felt itchy, and hot, and he was suddenly so aware of how the dampness of his clothes were sticking to him. The storm outside seemed to grow louder.
He can feel that familiar burn in the back of his throat, and he’s pretty sure that if he actually starts crying right now, he will be throwing himself headfirst out of the window.”
Jean must sense the way he just hadn’t moved from where he was stood in the middle of his room, because she turns around with an almost-dramatic spin and her mouth open ready for whatever teasing comment had popped into her head; before closing it quickly with an almost audible snap.
“What happened?” Jean’s tone borders on outright demanding. Diluc appreciates that it hadn’t softened, he’s not sure he could have handled that right now. It’s an identical sort of tone to when she had demanded who exactly it was that had punched him in the nose when they were kids; it’s comforting if nothing else.
“Nothing, I’m fine. I’m… thinking.” He attempts to rationalise, because the sight of Jean staring at him wide-eyed and disbelieving at the horrible attempt at lying - and honestly he really needs to get better at the lying thing right now, he was usually a pro at avoiding the truth at current times - whilst being half stood in his wardrobe was a comical sight.
He wasn’t sure whether to laugh in her face, or start sobbing in a truly embarrassing way.
“You’re… thinking.” Jean responds, her tone deadpan, even as she makes a step forward in his direction, pajamas loosely held in her grasp, “Really?”
The sheer audacity of Jean to not be willing to just pretend this whole thing wasn’t happening. What sort of best friend was she?
“Yep. Just thinking.” Everything in his tone feels off, and he’s sure that it’s just as obvious to Jean as well. Judging by the way her expression softens minutely at him - which is something he was honestly choosing to pretend he did not notice for his own peace of mind - and gently shoves whatever pajamas she had chosen for him in his arms. Some sort of loose light brown shirt that he’d honestly forgotten about.
He’s tired enough of how his current clothes feel right now that he’s pretty sure he would happily wear a curtain if he had to.
“Did you want to take a bath? Or just get dressed for now?” One thing about Jean that stays consistent no matter what happens, is that she knows when not to push.
The idea of not washing off everything right now does feel significantly gross, but he also is pretty sure he’d actively throw up if he had to wash his hair right now. The idea of the water, and the coldness upon getting out was something that made his skin itch.
He shakes his head, already going through the motions of putting the clothes on, whilst attempting to dislodge the phantom sensations of everything as he works out how to respond to Jean,
“Got most of it off at the tavern,” He croaks out, his voice sounding somehow worse than it had earlier after his honestly embarrassing crying fit. He’s just glad it was in front of Jean and not everybody collectively, “It’s fine.”
“I’m starting to think that might be your favourite sentence now.” Jean teases, turning back around to rummage through his wardrobe again, before pausing briefly to turn back around, “Did you want help getting your shirt on and off, your arm still looks pretty bad, I think.”
His arm did still hurt, he could already see where the bruises were starting to form properly, and the skin was still red and slightly swollen. He’d been determinedly trying to ignore the pulsing sensation since it had occurred.
He’d refused any healing from both Jean and Barbara - not just because the sensation of any healing like that put him on edge, for reasons he couldn’t even begin to sort out - and he was willing to stick with that; but the feeling of uncomfortableness everytime he moved was something that really was getting to him.
He really did feel like crawling into one of the forgotten, hidden hideaways that he had discovered as a child, and hiding from the world for a little while.
Everything involved choices and decisions and feelings and he didn’t want to deal with anything right now. His head was still aching in periodic pulses.
“Diluc?” Jean asks again, jolting Diluc back out of the thought process he’d found himself caught in, he pulls his eyes back up to meet hers briefly before shifting away again. He genuinely despised that particular burn in the back of your throat; everything was wrong.
Jean apparently was willing to take pity on him tonight, because she didn’t say anything at the honestly state that he was probably presenting right now, instead making a gesture indicating towards the bed,
“C’mere, get your shirt on and I’ll tie your hair back so you don’t look like the wet cat that Kaeya compared you to.”
Diluc made a choked sound of offence, willing some lighthearted-ness into the noise in an attempt to make the whole picture feel a little bit less like a miserable child getting dressed.
Which… in a way was exactly what this was, but it did not mean it had to feel like that.
He thumbed the fabric of Birdy’s wings, shifting closer slowly as he fought between the urge to turn tail and disappear at how readily he was being perceived.
He was, if nothing else, incredibly thankful that at least Jean was with him in some sort of solidarity; even with all her determined discouragement attempts at Barbara’s delight in finally getting the chance to be the big sister for once.
“I don’t look like a wet cat,” Diluc starts, indignation in his tone as he tried not to wince at the feeling of the brush pulling through damp hair, “Kaeya is lying. And he knows it.”
“Hmm, I don’t know, that’s definitely the energy I’m getting.”
Diluc didn’t dignify that with a response, not because he couldn’t come up with anything to say in response, but simply because the effort of forcing his brain to come up with coherent sentences when he was mostly trying to tune out the dual sensations of the thundering outside and the feeling of wet hair being touched.
He wasn’t sure why it was, probably the remnants of the concussion that was still lingering that had completely shortened out his emotional reactivity; but it really was horribly embarrassing.
Kaeya and Barbara beat them back to the living room, which wasn’t really a surprise - even if Diluc could see Jean gearing up to go and torment Barbara endlessly about the whole thing, and honestly her periodic disclaimers about still one hundred percent being the older sibling were fooling nobody - considering that they had found themselves massively delayed upstairs.
Diluc doesn’t say much as he allows Jean to tug him back over to where Kaeya and Barbara had settled themselves down on the collection of blankets that they had commandeered in the main living room.
Adelinde’s earlier words finally made sense when she’d mentioned that there wouldn’t be any staff, or anybody in general around the manor both tonight and tomorrow.
He wasn’t sure how to feel about being that easily read about this, even if it was from somebody that had known him genuinely his entire life.
The train of thought of that particular spiral, one that was making him feel the need to escape to some sort of dark room, is thankfully interrupted by Kaeya shoving his previously forgotten cup of juice into his hands, nudging him over to sit between him and Jean.
Well, he wasn’t passing up an opportunity to enjoy the juice. He was not wasteful.
“Diluc, how is your head?” Barbara questions quietly as soon as they’d settled down.
“It’s fine, thank you.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to heal it? It won’t take very much now that you’ve settled.”
“No. It’s okay, thank you though.” The words feel shorter than he wants them too, and far too tense. He feels a little bit bad about it, because Barbara is just genuinely asking, but talking makes Diluc’s entire throat start itching again for some reason.
Just as he’s beginning to feel the bits of anxiety coming back again at the possibility of having upset one of the others — others that weren’t Kaeya — Barbara just nods at him with a smile, turning back to pester Jean about the seven little sugar balls that she had consumed while Barbara’s back was turned.
It was somehow easier to ignore everything after that, the presence of Birdy by his side - who’s general proximity felt far less vulnerable with the presence of Jean’s own turtle plush toy’s existence next to her in an act of solidarity - and the quiet energy of the whole night.
He was thankful that past him had agreed with Jean’s suggestion of bringing down Birdy and his blanket from upstairs.
Kaeya hadn’t said anything, beyond that knowing sort of affectionate smile that made Diluc feel an equal amount as unsteady as it was grounding.
It was hardly as though he expected Kaeya to say anything, even with the state of their relationship still being so tentatively peaceful; his brother could be an asshole, but he had never been cruel.
Jean handed him a small bowl of apples without him needing to say anything, a slice of bread with a thin smear of jam on top, and an unspoken gesture and eyebrow raise to start eating.
Now that he had smelt some sort of food, the hunger was breaking through the anxious-concussed nausea that had previously been occupying his every sensation.
“So, did you hear what one of the new Knights got caught doing a few days ago?” Kaeya starts after a moment, swallowing his mouthful of fruit before continuing, and yeah apparently all formalities were off now - which wasn’t surprising considering that they were currently sitting in the Winery’s main living room in various states of casualness.
Diluc eyed the shirt that Jean had stolen to wear, she better not get jam on it at all.
“I highly doubt anyone would inform Jean or I of their affairs.” Barbara answered for them, Jean nodding along in consideration. Diluc contemplated mentioning all the gossip that Barbara did in fact get from Bennett during his numerous cathedral visits.
“Well, yeah, I only know because everyone gets awfully chatty when they’ve had a few drinks. Orhave almost died.” Kaeya cheerfully adds back in, shovelling a few pieces of sunsettia fruit into his mouth.
There was the familiar brother that Diluc remembered; incredibly nosy and a huge gossip when he wanted to be.
“Is this how my Cavalry Captain gets such results in everything?” Jean teases, her mouth opening again to say something or another to accompany it. Diluc will admit that he stops listening. He doesn’t care for talks of the Knights endeavours, especially when he could instead focus on the sounds of the storm outside.
He took small bites of a piece of bread in his hand, jam smeared messily across the top of it by Kaeya and who had abruptly shoved it into his hand earlier. It was pretty nice, even with the way Diluc’s stomach rolled with leftover anxiety.
He thumbed the edges of the blanket around his legs absentmindedly - some beige and blue cotton one that he’s pretty sure has been in the cupboard for a while, because he doesn’t remember seeing it much at all since he’d returned to Mondstat - as the others talked, letting his mind wander as he continued eating quietly.
He hadn’t realised how hungry he actually was till now, he had taken one bite and suddenly it was as though he had been feeling the effects of not having really eaten the last couple of days - purely just because he was busy, and couldn’t find the time - multiplied by a thousand.
He readjusted Birdy where he had been displaced next to him amidst Jean’s emotive gesturing, fixing him up nicely to sit next to Jean’s turtle stuffie.
“Y’know, it wouldn’t surprise me if that was how they were really getting around,” Kaeya continues on with a mouthful of food, “ Tunnels under the city…”
Diluc would like to say he had any idea what was going on in the conversation, but he had zoned out for approximately ten seconds and immediately lost track of the entire topic of conversation.
Whatever it was, it was prompting the driest look from Jean that Diluc had seen in a while, and he couldn’t help the snicker that arose at the sight.
“Oi,” Kaeya protested indignantly, pointing at Diluc and Jean with the piece of bread in his hand, “The idea has merit okay. Maybe not to teeny tiny children, but it does.”
Diluc was choosing to pretend that he couldn’t see the way Barbara was pretending she wasn’t almost outright laughing at the entire scene, as Diluc and Jean sat up straight in almost twin motions,
“I’m not a child.” Diluc starts, his tone an almost mimic of Kaeya’s previous one, at the same time that Jean pipes up so helpfully.
“Diluc is younger than I am.”
Diluc swings around to stare at her in offense at her blatant lies, flicking the last of the berries he’d been eating in her direction at the sheer insult.
“I’m not. You’re lying.” It’s a weak defense even to Diluc’s ears, and judging by the cocked eyebrow that Jean sends back in his direction, she was well aware of it. Sometimes he truly resented having any long-standing friendships.
He must somehow drift out of everything for a minute, because he’s jolting himself awake with a minor flail after what feels like only seconds; but everything around him has minutely shifted.
The conversations were still happening above him, but at some point they had apparently moved on from discussing the various shenanigans of the Knights, and the general people’s activities, to some elaborate story that Jean was obviously quizzing at each and every opportunity.
It’s a testament to how tired he actually was after everything — even with the power nap that he absolutely did not have — or maybe just a testament to the peaceful environment that had fallen over everything; even with the noise from Jean and Kaeya’s teasing, and Barbara’s occasional contribution to it all, he could feel sleep beginning to tug at him again.
“Welcome back to the world.” Diluc hears Kaeya murmur teasingly as he apparently notices Diluc shifting himself to sit upright again.
He doesn’t even blink as Diluc shoots him what he hopes is a proper glare; but considering how he could still feel sleep in his eyes, he’s sure the effect was lackluster.
If anything Kaeya only looks more amused, and Diluc pointedly turns away to stare at the sight in front of him.
The food was still sprawled out between the four of them, with them taking the occasional piece to nibble on in between conversations— or in Diluc’s case, whatever Jean or Kaeya had taken to absentmindedly handing him.
He’s pretty sure he’d consumed more grape juice in the past couple of hours than he had in literal months. Adelinde could not know about this.
He tried to look like he was even at all interested in the story that Kaeya and Barbara were currently putting together.
He had gradually been feeling the entire afternoon's events catching up on him far more than he usually would have. It was far earlier than he would have usually gone to bed — otherwise known as not at all — and he felt the familiar tuggings of indignation stirring at the blatant childlike treatment.
Or he would have felt it, if he was any less tired and wasn’t spending most of his time refusing to be the first one to fall asleep.
He’d taken to blinking himself awake — much to the amusement of Kaeya, who he could see occasionally flicking a glance his way — and trying to focus pointedly on whatever was going on around him.
The focus-in on the conversations, if nothing else, made a decent attempt to drown out the storm that was still raging outside.
He’s pretty sure the entire setup of the night was some elaborate plot to get his mind off the storm; for whatever reason. He wasn’t exactly going to argue against it, for once.
He couldn’t help the grin tugging at his lips at the stare off that was slowly unfolding in front of him between Jean and Barbara. He’d watched as the look on Barbara’s face grew more and more irritated in the face of the endless periodic questions from Jean.
He would bet literal mora on how short of a timeframe there would be between now, and when her seemingly endless patience ran out and she pulled a very Jean-like move and clobbered her sister around the back of the head.
Judging by the entertained eye contact he briefly made with Kaeya from where he was still sitting, he wasn’t the only one aware of that fact.
“Yes but where were the clues found?”
“I just said you’ll find out later.”
“Diluc wants to know now, right ‘luc?” Diluc jolted out of the small haze he’d found himself in as he focused so hard on what they were saying, taking an obligatory sip of the juice that he’d honestly forgotten that he was holding as he tried to remember what the current story was about.
Jean had always had the worst case of bringing Diluc into whatever argument it was that she was trying to win. And of course, unless it was against himself, he obviously had to side with her; it led to him getting real good at figuring out what he should say to whatever she happened to spring on him.
It had absolutely driven his father insane when they were children. They had perfected the art of having the others back.
Despite himself, he can feel the continual steady talking - and admittedly the large amount of grape juice) that he’d consumed over the course of the night - tugging at him.
It was easy like this, without the creeping feeling of something being wrong, caught in the loop of tensions and stressors and the sheer dislike of it all.
The storm was still ongoing, even though it had faded steadily into the background. Between Kaeya, and Jean - and Barbara too honestly - they were pretty much nailing the concepts of redirection.
Diluc still was at times feeling the urge to throw himself out the nearest window when he noticed the similarities between how Kaeya was interacting with him and his interactions with Klee; only altered by the inherent differences that came with an almost-lifetime of knowing each other.
But he also was willing to admit that if the others were apparently willing to put their dignity aside for a single night, then he obviously owes them that respect back.
It didn’t hurt that the blankets they had chosen were extremely comfortable. He’s pretty sure he’d freeze to death if he even tried to move right now.
He was reassured by any potential shame of course, by Jean having the same methods she used on Barbara growing up, used on her. The sheer look of outrage every single time she was aware of it - which wasn’t often honestly - was something that made Diluc snicker every time.
Eventually, Kaeya must grow tired of witnessing what even Diluc is aware of being a rather pathetic attempt at keeping himself awake - which okay, sue him, it had been a few days, and his excuse was that he’s pretty sure his head was actually filled with stew - and makes a sudden move to shift his position.
Diluc instinctually freezes up at the movement on his right side, going stiff as Kaeya pretty much wrangles him into slouching down a bit further, instead of the long-term very uncomfortable half-sitting up position that he’d found himself in.
A hand comes up to loosely fiddle with the loose ponytail that Jean had tied earlier, the ribbon keeping it all together like a constant comforting reminder of her solidarity in this all. Diluc exhaled softly - ironically, in time with a sharp crack of thunder and lightning lighting up the sky - and Kaeya only paused momentarily before continuing his ministrations.
He found himself trying to focus on the conversation happening in front of him, and of the careful movements of his hair being touched. He was usually such an avid hater of any sort of-anything around his hair on a good day, but everything about tonight just felt off anyway.
As if sensing the rising anxiety, Kaeya took over with the story-turned-conversation in an attempt to steer it away from what was possibly about to be an attempt at fratricide.
“I don’t think Diluc is going to help you with finding out the stories secrets any sooner, Acting Grandmaster,” Kaeya starts teasingly, shaking his head playfully as Jean poked her tongue out at him in response, “I think Barbara was just about to get to a fun part, yeah?”
“Yes! And if you would listen for more than five seconds, I would tell you that there were four locations that the wizard had to visit,” Barbara continues, “and these locations needed him to fight-”
“Were there four locations for a reason? Or was it just a coincidental number?”
“Jean.”
Diluc blinked slowly at the scene unfolding in front of him, his brain drifting off into that staticy feeling that didn’t make him simultaneously feel unbearably anxious.
He could feel Kaeya absentmindedly playing with the loose curls from his ponytail; and he was a bit mortified to realise how easily it was making that tiredness more prevalent.
Either Kaeya was doing it completely unintentionally, or he was one tricky bastard.
Both options were as likely as the other. He doesn’t know how Albedo put up with him on a daily basis.
Barbara does get to continue on with her story, with Kaeya chiming in at the right moments with some helpful comment or tibet, and Diluc honestly really tries to stay awake to listen; because it’s polite.
But it was as if the lack of sleep and the work he’d been completing for the last few days were hitting him all at once now that he’d stopped..
He takes a quiet sip of his grape juice, holding it carefully and drinking it slowly in an attempt to wake his brain up a little bit.
It is pretty much entirely unsuccessful. It’s like the moment he even dared to acknowledge that he was tired, suddenly it was multiplying by a thousand.
“Then, the wizard, with the cats from the third location, went into the forests of Sumeru-“ Barbara’s voice fades into the background almost, becoming a balanced noise as he settled down into the pile of blankets around them, thumbing the fabric of Birdies wings in his hand as he tried to focus back in on what was being said for what was possibly the eleventh time.
He was not sleeping. He wasn’t a child so he was not going to be the first one to fall asleep, especially not while everybody else was still awake; but he was content to rest his eyes for a little while.
Yes, that would be fine, he would rest his eyes for a little while and then he would wake up and possibly find some of the earlier paperwork to complete; there was always something more to do.
A solid plan, he’d just rest until the others were all asleep - so that they couldn’t nag him or whatnot - and then he’d get up to focus. He was just resting.
He doesn’t notice when his cup is loosely pried of of his hand and placed on the outskirts of their fort before it can truly test the limits of the minimal spillage, nor does he notice when a hand carefully brushes the hair out of his face, before tucking the blanket up around him a bit more tightly; Birdy being pressed into his arms properly.
But it’s fine, because he wasn’t sleeping; he was just resting.