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The water was colder than Aether expected.
Not just a chill, but a sharp, penetrating cold that bit straight through muscle and bone, stealing the air from his lungs the moment he went under. The current surged around him, disorienting, relentless, dragging him down and away from the broken stone ledge he’d slipped from.
Aether kicked hard, instincts screaming, but the river twisted violently around his legs. His pack tore loose. Something, debris, maybe, struck his ribs, sending him tumbling over himself under the surface. The impact knocked what little breath he’d managed to keep right out of him.
No…
He broke the surface for half a second, coughing, gasping, fingers scraping uselessly against slick rock before the current yanked him under again.
Water flooded his mouth.
His chest burned almost immediately, a deep, spreading ache that made every reflex fight to inhale. He clamped his jaw shut just in time, vision blurring as the world dissolved into muted greens and shadows.
Think, he told himself desperately. Think!
But panic crept in anyway, insidious and overwhelming. The river was louder under the surface, a roaring pressure in his ears. His limbs felt heavy, sluggish, like they no longer belonged to him. With no air left in his body, he began to sink.
Now the surface seemed impossibly far away. Aether’s movements grew weaker, more frantic. His lungs spasmed, demanding air they weren’t getting. Stars burst across his vision.
His mind scrambled for anything, anyone. There was only one name he could think of.
“Xiao—!!!” The name tore itself from him, a scream, a useless sound swallowed instantly by the water.
But it was enough. The river exploded. A shockwave split the current apart, water gushing outward as a teal blur cut through it with impossible speed. The pressure in Aether’s ears vanished in an instant, replaced by strong arms locking around his torso.
Xiao.
The adeptus didn’t just think. He moved. One moment Aether was sinking; the next, the river was behind them as Xiao launched out of the water and onto the riverbank in a spray of white foam and shattered stone.
Aether hit the ground hard, coughing violently as Xiao released him just long enough to roll him onto his side. Water poured from Aether’s mouth and nose in choking gasps. His entire body shook uncontrollably, muscles locking and unlocking in useless jerks.
Xiao crouched beside him, also sopping wet, though he didn’t seem to be affected by the temperature.
“Aether.” The word came out strained, broken off by a sharp breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
Aether tried to reply. It came out as a wet, rasping cough instead. His fingers clawed weakly at the dirt as another spasm wracked his chest.
Xiao hesitated for half a heartbeat, then placed a firm hand between Aether’s shoulder blades, grounding him.
“Breathe,” he said sharply, then softer, lower. “Slowly. You are safe.”
Aether sucked in a harsh, shuddering breath. Then another. Each inhale burned like fire, but the air was there this time.
Xiao stayed close, eyes sharp, scanning the surrounding area for danger even as his attention refused to leave Aether’s trembling form. When the coughing finally subsided into uneven breathing, Xiao shifted, carefully easing Aether upright.
The Traveler slumped immediately, head drooping forward, hair plastered to his face and neck. His clothes were soaked through, water pooling beneath him, skin pale beneath the grime.
He let out a weak, breathless laugh that dissolved into another cough. “You… came.”
“…You called,” Xiao replied quietly, almost to himself.
Aether shivered violently as he inhaled.
Xiao noticed, his jaw tightening. “This river is fed by snowmelt,” he said. “If your body temperature drops further—”
“—I know,” Aether murmured hoarsely. “I… slipped. The rocks…”
“Later,” Xiao interrupted. Not harshly. Decisively. “You need warmth. And rest.”
Aether nodded faintly, though his eyes fluttered.
Xiao cursed under his breath as he gathered Aether up carefully, one arm braced behind his knees, the other supporting his back.
The wind stirred as Xiao vanished in a burst of green light, reappearing moments later at Wangshu Inn. He didn’t wait for questions, bringing the freezing boy straight to the room that Verr Goldet had given him. One that he had never even used before now.
Xiao sat Aether down on the end of the bed, and water immediately soaked into the sheets beneath him.
It pooled around where his body indented the mattress, dripped from his hair onto the floor, soaked into the blankets no matter how many of the inn’s towels Xiao dragged over him. Aether’s boots thudded dully against the bedframe when Xiao tried to maneuver him, heavy with water and mud.
And worse, the shivering didn’t stop. Aether curled in on himself instinctively as his body tried, and failed, to generate warmth. His teeth chattered hard enough that Xiao could hear it over his own breathing.
“Your clothes are too wet; I need to remove them.” He glanced up, hesitating, making eye contact. “Can I...?”
A nod in response.
Xiao dropped to his knees in front of the Aether and yanked his boots off first, fingers slipping on wet leather. They hit the floor with a dull, careless sound, water pouring out of them. He stripped the soaked gloves next, then the sodden layers of Aether’s clothes, fabric clinging stubbornly to chilled skin. Every time he pulled something away, the cold rushed in to replace it. Sparing him from any more embarrassment, Xiao didn’t touch Aether’s boxers. They seemed to be drying already, anyway.
Aether gasped softly, breath hitching as Xiao gently moved him from the end of the bed to the front, laying his head down against a pillow and body straight as one normally would. He wrapped Aether tighter in the blankets, pressing a hand flat against his chest to steady him. The heartbeat beneath his palm was fast. Too fast.
“Stay with me,” Xiao said, sharper than he intended. He forced the edge from his voice.
He nodded faintly, lashes fluttering, hair plastered to his face and neck, water darkening the pillow beneath him. Xiao dragged a towel over and scrubbed at it quickly, clumsily, then abandoned the attempt when the shivering worsened.
The cold was already too deep. Xiao froze, breath catching painfully in his chest as the realization struck him.
This is not enough. Aether could die.
He straightened abruptly and stripped off his own armor and outer garments, movements rough and unceremonious. The wet fabric hit the floor without care. He climbed into the bed and pulled Aether against him fully, pressing their bodies together, wrapping the blankets around them both until there was no space left for the cold to creep in.
Aether made a small, startled sound, then melted into him with a soft sigh, fingers clawing weakly at Xiao’s bicep.
“...Xiao,” he murmured, the word barely there.
Xiao’s arms locked around him, one hand spread firmly between his shoulder blades, the other cradling the back of his head. Aether’s wet braid hung off the side of the bed, little drips of water beading from it the only sound in the room, aside from Xiao’s own heartbeat thundering in his ears.
He lowered his forehead to Aether’s, breathing deliberately slowly, forcing his heartbeat to steady so Aether could feel it. He stayed like that, holding him, feeling every shudder as it gradually lessened, every breath as it evened out. The shaking faded inch by inch, until it was nothing more than a faint tremor beneath his hands.
This is acceptable, he told himself. This is necessary.
Only then did Xiao realize how tightly he was holding him.
The moment he was finally warm enough to relax, Aether’s body jerked, a weak shudder running through him as another coughing fit seized his lungs. Xiao kept his hold on Aether as water and breath tore their way out of him in harsh, uneven bursts. Each cough sounded worse than the last.
“Slow,” Xiao instructed, though his voice betrayed him, too sharp, too tight. He forced himself to inhale, then exhale. Again. “Do not fight it.”
Aether’s eyes were half-lidded, unfocused. His breaths came shallow between coughs, lips tinged faintly blue at the edges. When the fit finally subsided, he sagged bonelessly against Xiao, chest heaving.
“I…” He tried to speak, failed, and shook his head weakly instead.
Xiao swallowed. He had faced gods. Monsters. Centuries of slaughter and corruption. He didn’t exactly have experience with healing, especially not on others.
“You inhaled a lot of water,” he said, more to steady himself than Aether. “Your lungs will react. You must let it happen.”
Aether let out a breathless huff that might have been a laugh. “You… sound like you’re scolding me.”
“I am,” Xiao replied automatically.
“I’m…” he murmured, smile falling, voice barely audible. “I’m sorry. I know this is… Not what you wanted to deal with today.”
The words landed like a blade between Xiao’s ribs. “…That’s not necessary,” he said quietly. “You called for me. It is my duty.”
Aether didn’t respond, suddenly drifting off to sleep. His breathing stuttered, hitched, then settled again, still too fast, too shallow. But at least it was even. Xiao counted the breaths to make sure. Counted his own. Though he doesn’t ever really need to sleep, as adepti tend to prefer meditation, Xiao found himself tiring as well, closing his eyes with forehead still pressed against Aether’s. The warmth was irresistible.
After what must have only been an hour or two, as it was still light outside, Xiao woke to wrongness. It wasn’t sound. Or movement. It was heat. Too much of it.
For a disoriented heartbeat, he thought it was his own, residual warmth from shared blankets, from proximity. Then he shifted slightly, breath catching when the warmth didn’t fade.
It burned.
Aether was laying against him, forehead tucked beneath Xiao’s chin, breath puffing faintly against his collarbone. Xiao lifted a hand slowly, deliberately, and pressed his palm to Aether’s temple. Scalding.
Aether stirred weakly at the movement, a small sound slipping from his throat. A half whine, half sigh. His skin was really flushed now, cheeks tinged pink instead of pale, lashes damp against his skin. Sweat clung to his hairline, darkening the roots of his braid.
Xiao stiffened, mind snapping into sharp focus. Although he himself has never had one, the temperature of Aether’s skin could only mean one thing. Fever. And it had set in fast.
He eased himself back just enough to see Aether’s face, careful not to jostle him. The Traveler’s breathing was uneven again, faster than before, chest rising and falling shallowly beneath the blankets. Every few breaths, there was a faint hitch, like his lungs still hadn’t forgiven him. It almost sounded like he was gasping for air.
“Wake up,” Xiao said softly, thumb brushing Aether’s cheek. “Aether.”
Aether frowned, lashes fluttering. “…Xiao?” His voice was thick, sluggish, like he had to push each word uphill. “Why’s it… so bright…”
“You have a fever,” Xiao said.
Aether tried to nod. It came out more like a sway. “Feels… warm,” he murmured, absurdly apologetic. “Sorry…”
“Do not apologize,” Xiao snapped, then immediately gentled his tone. “Just… focus on me.”
He shifted carefully, extricating himself just enough to reach the bedside without letting the blankets slip away entirely. Cold air brushed Aether’s skin, earning a faint shiver despite the heat radiating from him.
Xiao returned with a basin of water and a clean cloth. He wrung it out thoroughly, cool, not cold, then knelt beside the bed.
“This may be uncomfortable,” he warned quietly.
Aether hummed weakly, barely conscious. “Are you… shirtless?”
Xiao ignored that, pressing the cloth to Aether’s forehead. Steam might as well have risen from his skin. Aether hissed softly, head turning away on instinct. Xiao followed the movement, steadying him with his free hand.
He wiped along Aether’s temples, down the curve of his neck, his chest, careful around his ribs where bruising had begun to bloom. Aether’s skin was hypersensitive now; every touch drew a reaction: a flinch, a quiet sound, fingers curling faintly into the sheets.
“Xiao,” Aether whispered, eyes half-open but unfocused. “Don’t… go.”
Xiao’s chest tightened. “I won’t,” he said immediately.
He climbed back into bed, pulling Aether against him again, though not as tightly as before. The intention was to leave room for the heat to escape, but be close enough that Aether could still feel him. He tucked the damp cloth against Aether’s neck and shoulder, keeping his palm flat against his back, counting each breath as it rose and fell beneath his hand.
Minutes passed. Maybe longer.
Aether had another coughing fit. It was weaker this time, but still intense, still frightening. Xiao supported him through it until he relaxed enough to speak.
“Did I… mess up?” Aether asked faintly. “Calling you…”
“You saved your own life by doing so,” Xiao replied, tense. “If you had waited any longer…” He stopped himself, swallowed. “Do not think like that. Just rest. Your body needs more time to recover.”
Aether gave a small, tired smile against his chest before closing his eyes again. “Thank you for saving me.”
It was dark the next time he woke up, hours into the night. Deep, suffocating dark, the kind that pressed in on him from all sides. Aether’s eyes snapped open, glassy and unfocused, heart slamming so hard it hurt. For a split second he didn’t know where he was. The ceiling above him swam, unfamiliar, too close. The air felt thick, heavy in his chest.
He tried to inhale. It didn’t work.
“I can’t,” He gasped, clutching at Xiao’s wrist. “Can’t breathe-”
“What?” Xiao startled, not used to being woken up at all, much less so suddenly. He caught sight of Aether’s face and the question died in his throat. “You can,” he said, voice firm the moment he understood. He shifted closer, hands steady as he cupped Aether’s face, thumbs pressing gently but insistently along his cheekbones, forcing his focus. “You are breathing. Look at me.”
Aether’s eyes flicked wildly before finally locking onto Xiao’s. Wide, terrified.
“There,” Xiao said quietly. “Stay with me.”
Aether’s breaths hitched, shallow and fast, every inhale scraping, every exhale trembling. His shoulders shook beneath Xiao’s hands.
“Copy what I’m doing,” Xiao instructed, lowering his voice even further. He exaggerated the motion, slow and deliberate, letting Aether feel it through their shared proximity. “In. Now.”
Xiao inhaled.
Aether followed, barely, breath breaking halfway in, but it was air.
“Good,” Xiao said immediately. “Again.”
Another inhale. Shaky. Uneven.
Xiao did not rush him. He matched each breath, counting silently, grounding them both. His thumbs brushed small, repetitive circles against Aether’s cheeks, a physical anchor.
“Again.”
The burning in Aether’s chest dulled fraction by fraction. The room stopped spinning quite so violently. His grip on Xiao’s wrist loosened, fingers curling weakly instead of clawing.
The aftermath settled in slowly. Aether didn’t pull away once the panic faded. If anything, he leaned closer, weight sagging fully into Xiao’s hold like his body had finally remembered it was allowed to rest. His breathing stayed uneven, small hitching inhales that betrayed how close he’d come to losing control again.
For a few moments, he stared unfocused at nothing, pupils blown wide. The dark room pressed in around them, and before, for an instant too long, it wasn’t a room at all. It was cold water closing over his head, the crushing pressure in his chest, the way his lungs had screamed for air that hadn’t been there.
His breath hitched sharply. Tears welled up behind his eyes.
Xiao felt the tremors before he saw them. Faint, persistent shivers rippling through Aether’s body. Not violent enough to be from the cold anymore, just residual. The body remembering what the mind wanted to forget.
“You are shaking,” Xiao murmured, more observation than accusation.
Aether nodded weakly, forehead pressed into Xiao’s collarbone. “I thought…” He swallowed, throat bobbing. “I thought I was back there. I couldn’t… I couldn’t get air. It felt the same.”
Xiao’s arms tightened instinctively, anchoring him. “You are not,” he said quietly, firmly. “You are breathing. Feel it.”
He guided Aether’s hand to his own chest, pressing it flat over his heart so he could feel the steady rhythm beneath.
“Can’t… stop it,” Aether admitted, voice thin, scraped raw. “Every time I close my eyes, it’s like-” He let out a sob, breathing stuttering again.
Xiao adjusted his grip without thinking, shifting them so Aether was more fully cradled against him, chest to chest. He pulled the blankets tighter around them both, tucking the edges in with careful, practiced movements. One hand stayed firm on Aether’s hand. The other traced slow, repetitive paths through his damp hair, smoothing it back from his face.
“Do not fight it,” Xiao said again, gentler this time. “Your body remembers danger. That does not mean you are in it now.”
Aether exhaled shakily. His teeth chattered once, twice, before he pressed his face deeper into Xiao’s shoulder, his tears warm on the yaksha’s skin.
“I couldn’t breathe,” he whispered, the words muffled. “I thought… if you hadn’t-”
Xiao’s jaw tightened. He lowered his head until his forehead rested against Aether’s hair. “I did,” he said quietly. “You are here.”
He held him as he cried, measuring time only by breath and heartbeat. Xiao kept his own breathing slow, letting Aether match it when he could. Every so often, Aether would shudder while he coughed, a full-body tremor, like his lungs were still bracing for water that never came. Each time, Xiao tightened his arms fractionally, wordlessly reinforcing the boundary of his presence. The chill faded gradually. Not all at once, but in small mercies. The shivers softened. Aether’s grip loosened, fingers relaxing as exhaustion finally outweighed adrenaline.
“I’m sorry,” Aether murmured suddenly, barely audible, words slurring with fever and fatigue. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I just got scared.”
Xiao stilled for half a second. “It’s… alright,” he said softly. His hand paused in Aether’s hair, then resumed its slow movement. “You nearly drowned. This reaction does not make you weak.”
Aether didn’t argue. He only nodded faintly, breath warm now against Xiao’s skin.
Sleep crept back in cautiously, like something afraid of being chased away. Aether’s breathing deepened by degrees, pauses growing longer, steadier. His body went slack in Xiao’s embrace, no longer crying, no longer fighting the weight of rest.
Xiao stayed awake after that. He counted the breaths. Felt the steady heat returning beneath his palms. Listened to the small, unconscious sounds Aether made: a soft sigh, a faint hum in his throat when he shifted closer, as if even asleep he was seeking reassurance that the water was gone. He did eventually pry Aether out of his arms, quietly slipping out onto the balcony to hang their clothes to dry. It was a warm night in Liyue, so he had no worries about not having anything to wear when morning came. And morning did come, eventually.
It was a long time before Aether woke again. And it didn't happen all at once, not cleanly. Consciousness crept back in fragments: warmth first, then weight, then the dull ache in his chest that flared every time he tried to breathe too deeply. His throat felt raw, like he’d been coughing for hours. He shifted, and immediately regretted it. A soft hand steadied him at once.
“Careful.” Xiao’s voice was low, close. Too close to be imagined.
Aether’s eyes fluttered open. The room was dim, curtains drawn tight against the daylight, lantern light turned low. Xiao sat at the edge of the bed in his usual attire, posture rigid but attentive, one hand braced at Aether’s back as if he’d been holding him there already.
“…Hey,” Aether rasped.
Relief crossed Xiao’s face so quickly it was almost gone before Aether could be sure he’d seen it. “You're awake,” he said. “Good.”
Aether swallowed, and it hurt. He winced despite himself. Xiao noticed instantly, reaching for a cup on the nightstand.
“Your throat is irritated. Drink.”
He slid an arm behind Aether’s shoulders, careful but firm, and helped ease him upright. Aether leaned into the support without thinking, head tipping forward until his forehead nearly brushed Xiao’s collarbone.
“Sorry,” he murmured automatically.
Xiao stiffened. Then, very deliberately, relaxed his grip. “Do not apologize,” he said. “You are still feverish.”
The cup touched Aether’s lips. Xiao tilted it slowly, watching his face with an intensity usually reserved for battle. Aether took a tentative sip, then another, coughing softly as the water went down.
“Too much?” he asked.
Aether shook his head weakly. “Just… sore.”
Xiao nodded once, adjusting the angle, slower this time. When Aether finished, Xiao set the cup aside and didn’t pull away. Aether realized then that Xiao’s arm was still around him. That he was still half-leaning against him. That Xiao hadn’t moved to correct it. Neither of them said anything about it.
Aether swallowed, then glanced down at himself for the first time since waking fully, at the blankets pulled tight around his torso, the unfamiliar lightness of his body beneath them. He hesitated, suddenly self-conscious now that the fog had cleared.
“Hey, um… Xiao?”
Xiao looked at him intently.
“…Where are my clothes?”
There was a beat. Xiao’s ears warmed. Just slightly. “Wet,” he said shortly. “They were removed to prevent hypothermia.”
Aether blinked. Then, faintly amused, “You could’ve warned me I was going to wake up like this.”
“You were not conscious.”
“Still,” Aether said, smiling despite himself. “Feels like I missed a step.”
Xiao huffed, shifting his arm just enough to settle Aether back against the pillows. He tucked the blankets higher, movements precise, almost reverent. He chooses to not bring up the fact that the two of them have already been skin-to-skin for the entire night. The less Aether remembers, the better.
“I’ll get them for you shortly; they should be dry by now. You have been asleep for several hours,” he said. “And your fever has lessened a bit. But you must eat.”
Aether made a face. “I don’t feel great.”
“I am aware,” Xiao replied dryly. Then, after a pause, quieter: “You still need nourishment. I’ll be back.”
He returned with a small bowl of broth, steam curling faintly in the air. He sat again, even closer this time, and dipped the spoon.
Aether hesitated. “…You don’t have to-”
Xiao’s gaze flicked up, sharp. Aether let it go.
Aether opened his mouth obediently. Xiao fed him slowly, pausing between each spoonful to let him swallow, to breathe.
Aether laughed weakly. “You’re… really serious about this.”
Xiao didn’t look away. “You almost died.”
The words were blunt. Unadorned. They landed heavy between them. Aether swallowed, gaze dropping to his hands.
Xiao’s grip tightened around the spoon. His expression was carefully neutral, but his eyes betrayed him, too bright, too focused, like he was holding something back with sheer force of will. “…I barely heard you,” he continued. “In the water. You were so far under the surface.”
Aether’s breath caught.
“I’ve never…” Xiao continued. His voice lowered. “I’ve never had to take care of anyone like this before. Not even myself.”
Silence stretched between them, fragile and full.
“I’m alive. You seem to be doing a good enough job so far,” Aether responded, trying to lighten the mood. The spoon hovered, forgotten between them. “…Really, Thank you,” he said softly. “For saving me. For… all of this.”
Xiao looked away first. “You would have done the same,” he said.
Aether smiled faintly. “Yeah. But you did it first.”
Xiao exhaled, slow and steady, then set the bowl aside. He reached out, hesitated, then gently brushed Aether’s hair back from his face.
Aether shifted, just slightly, testing the air in his lungs. The breath came easier now. Still sore. Still strange. But steady. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared,” Aether said quietly, almost to himself.
Xiao’s head lifted. He didn’t interrupt.
“In the river,” Aether continued. “At first it was just… cold. Then it was like my body stopped listening to me. Like it decided on its own that it was done.” He clenched the sheets. “I kept thinking I could make it out if I just kicked harder. And then I couldn’t.”
“When you woke up last night,” Xiao responded, voice low, “your breathing was stable. Your panic was not because your lungs failed you.”
Aether glanced at him. “Yeah. I know.”
Silence again. Thicker now.
“I thought,” Aether continued slowly, “that if I let myself fall asleep, I’d wake up back there. Or not wake up at all.”
“That will not happen,” Xiao said firmly.
“You don’t know that.”
Xiao met his gaze without flinching. “I do.”
Aether searched his face, looking for doubt. He didn’t find any. What he did find was something raw and tightly controlled beneath Xiao’s calm exterior that made his chest ache in a different way.
“…You were scared too,” Aether said softly.
Xiao inhaled through his nose. “Yes.”
The admission hung between them.
“I do not panic easily,” Xiao explained. “But when I felt your pulse falter after I pulled you from the water…” He stopped, visibly recalibrating. “I have lost many friends. Before yesterday, I believed I was prepared for that possibility again. I was… clearly mistaken."
Aether’s throat tightened. “I didn’t mean to…”
“I know.” Xiao shook his head once. “This is not me blaming you.”
Aether hesitated, then reached out. His fingers brushed Xiao’s wrist first, tentative, before settling there more firmly. Warm. Real.
“You didn’t leave,” Aether said. “Not even after you rescued me.”
Xiao looked down at the contact, then back up. “…No.”
“Is that… hard for you?”
“Yes.”
Aether smiled faintly. “Then thank you for doing it anyway.”
Xiao didn’t pull away. Instead, he shifted closer, resting his forearm against the edge of the bed so Aether didn’t have to reach.
After a while, Aether spoke again. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to guard me.”
Xiao’s expression sharpened. “That is not-”
“-No, I know,” Aether interrupted gently. “But I also don’t want you to disappear just because I’m… okay again.”
Xiao studied him for a long time. He'd always been the adeptus who vanished between heartbeats. Who watched from shadows. Who stayed apart because it was easier that way.
“…I can remain,” he said finally. “Just until you are back on your feet.”
Aether nodded, satisfied. “That’s enough.”