Chapter Text
It's tomorrow already...
"To inhabitants of Snezhnaya. To citizens and foreigners alike. We are pleased to invite you to the 400th year anniversary of The Fatui!"... The rest of the poster is just a bunch of details no one has time to read for.
The Doctor sighed as he placed down the poster onto his desk, his laboratory as quiet as usual. He couldn't remember how much time has passed since he sat down to think about Columbina's words.
'... Well, usually it's The Captain who would do the opening message, but we all know he's in Natlan. You're just a rank below him. It would make sense if you would take over his role while he's gone.' He could remember how her voice was laced with innocence as she said that.
She knew he didn't want this.
He knew she didn't want this either.
But what are they going to do?
If he were to tell The Jester about his want to withdraw from the task, he might see him differently, in a negative way. And my, how he did not like it when people looked down on him or see him in a wrong light. He's been there before, and he doesn't want to feel or hear anyone sneak snide whispers behind his back.
Or maybe he should just go tell him? Pierro doesn't seem to be the kind of person who would do that to him. He's not like those mindless classmates he had when he was still in The Akademiya. Just give his face a good look and you'll know that he's not one bad kink away from breathing out an insult.
And at the back of his head, he knew he wasn't the best choice when it came to delivering important messages in front of so many people. Not that he couldn't; he had plenty of experience back then. But now that he's one of the most important figures in Teyvat (atleast he tells himself), he should be careful treading over this area.
Maybe he should just tell him. He doesn't want to be in front being all shaky in the hands anyways...
-=/== -
"You're stepping down from the position?"
Dottore felt himself go numb. Despite Pierro's neutral tone, he couldn't help but feel he's a little disappointed. He seemed like he was in disbelief.
"I really don't think I could do that." he thought he could make his tone the same as his, but he failed miserably at covering up that pang of sadness.
Pierro knew something was off for a long time now. He could no longer hear the busy clang of metals or bubbling brew of mixtures in the underground lab. Columbina also filed a post-project leave on Dottore's behalf. There was something bad, he could tell. But he really couldn't pin it on a specific why.
Dottore knows he couldn't do it.
Pierro knows he shouldn't push this.
He could really use a heavy sigh now... But Dottore was a smart and attentive one. Such a gesture might be insulting.
"I understand. This isn't supposed to be your role anyway. Perhaps Tartaglia might want to try his hand at this..."
-=/== -
"I understand. This isn't supposed to be your role anyway..."
Those words wouldn't leave him in peace.
How dare he! What does he think of him?! Did he already expect him to back out?! He could easily take on that speech! (no he couldn't)
Dottore slowly crushed the poster with his hand. He immediately ran back to his lab after getting out of that office. Pushing open his lab door, his hands became shaky as he tried to wipe off his sweat when he sunk onto the nearby chair.
Had he done something wrong? Has Pierro been seeing him in a different light?
All these years... Is Pierro exactly what he thought he was?
Thinking about it made his chest ache.
It can't be. It can't be like this–! That's not the image he's been setting himself up! Columbina would never talk to Pierro about him either!
I hate this.
I hate this!
"... Dottore?"
Dottore immediately looked up. It was Pantalone at the door. He looked concerned. His eyes scanning him before looking down at the table.
Oh no
He forgot to pull down his sleeves.
Pantalone took a step closer. Dottore kept his gaze away from him as he stood up and stepped away from his chair, quickly pulling down the sleeves of his shirt. He needs keep away from him.
The Regrator couldn't really find the right words. "You—"
"—I didn't ask you to talk about that." Dottore sounded pissed. Frustrated.
Pantalone took a deep breath. He's seen this before. He already knew about it since days ago. When those cuts were still fresh...
He's never seen The Doctor like that in all his years. Something was definitely bothering that man. And just like The Damslette, he wants to find out as well.
If only Pantalone hadn't schemed to stand in front of the door, Dottore would've gotten out of this damned office. Telling him he has to go would only raise more questions.
Pantalone crossed his arms across his chest, "You don't seem like yourself. It's been happening these past few days," his eyes focus onto The Doctor's now covered arms, to which Dottore replies with a threatening glare.
Don't you dare
"Are you okay, Zandik?"
Dottore quickly turns around to face him, "I'd be doing better without that question." If only those tired eyes behind his mask ended this charade then...
Pantalone lightly huffs, as if trying to hold back a chuckle, "I heard from Columbina yesterday that you wanted a long break from your duties. Is that true?" his disgusting eyes once again land on Dottore's wrists, partly covered by his long-sleeves. He could see a now dried cut peeking on the edge of the fabric.
Dottore gave a heavy sigh, his shoulders didn't quite square when he places his hands on his waist, "You enjoyed that show, huh? Keep that to yourself," his annoyed voice hidden with amusement, "You're not going to get another one."
The Doctor approached The Regrator and quickly flicked his hand away. Pantalone recoiled from the sudden sting before stepping away from the door.
The door opens, "You better not be here when I come back." he walks down the hallway, not looking back to Pantalone.
He didn't exactly know what was wrong with that scientist, but he could feel something was off.
As the footsteps echoing in the halls faded away Pantalone decided to go back to his office where he could think more clearly of this.
-=/== -
It was strange he didn't really have any paperwork today. There usually would be a stack of paper dumped onto his table every afternoon. Now his prized mahogany desk has nothing to carry on it, the varnished surface reflected the views in the room.
The view outside was spectacular. It was rare to see the snow falling gently after a turbulent storm. The Regrator watched the light dance through the pine leaves which shook off its snowflakes from the wind.
He didn't really know why he cared for Dottore. Maybe all those years working closely together formed some kind of bond.
It was definitely far from Columbina's platonic friendship with him. But it sure was getting there.
He could remember how those low ranking personnel of his actually showed signs of care. They probably just wanted to please him as their boss, but they actually gave a chip of their attention.
Perhaps it's just a normal thing for people to look out on each other.
He remembers that time where he found the harbinger passed out on the floor of his lab. And when he told The Captain about it, his usually stoic demeanor seemed to slightly slip before sliding back into place. And like all other conversations he had about something bad happening to Dottore, Columbina would just suddenly step up from the shadows or show up behind him.
They know a few things. Things he doesn't know.. Something about why The Doctor never seems to look out for himself.
Why he works himself to exhaustion.
Why he barely eats and sleeps.
Why he's done so many things to hurt himself.
So just like The Captain and The Damslette, he wants to find out what's bothering Dottore as well.
After all, Pantalone wasn't the kind of person to just watch the misery unfold.
-=/== -
The laboratory beneath Zapolyarny Palace has been eerily quiet all week.
Doing experiments just didn't seem interesting anymore.
-/== -
Captain,
It's not the best time to send you a letter now that you have just set foot in Natlan, but I need you to return to our homeland. There's something that you may be interested in. Something that you'll want to know.
I know that you have been keeping a good eye on Zandik the moment you first set your eyes on him, that whatever bad he'll do to himself, you'll be there and give that man your word on it. The Damslette has told me this, and knowing her, she does the same for him as well.
He doesn't seem like himself.
The usual laboratory is quiet and I've heard from Columbina about his recent dwelling in his old personal space we all thought he abandoned. She didn't say anything further.
The Damslette has also filed a post-project leave on behalf of Dottore. Just like the previous situation, she also has her mouth shut about details and hasn't talked to me since. I sense that there's more to what she's letting out. If you know her well, you can say she's trying to alarm us on something.
Even I have not heard much from him since the palace's laboratory had finished its construction. Both of you are the only ones who got this close to him. But between you and The Damslette, she agrees that you posses a greater skill in predicting his inner workings.
I trust you to be the one to find out what he's going through without agitating him. I will confront him on whatever problem has stopped him from doing the only thing he ever wanted, but I need some knowledge on the surface level in order to do so.
I entrust you with this, Captain, that you handle this situation with utmost care. Dottore has long been showing that there's a lot in his mind, but it all pales down to this situation. Your timely return would be a welcome relief.
Sincerely,
The Jester