Chapter Text
It had been nearly a month since that day in the cathedral.
Since the screaming. Since the blank stare. Since Kaeya had sat against the cold stone wall and wept until his body ached.
A month of silence that felt like years.
Kaeya had returned to work—barely. He’d begged Jean for leniency, promising to stay on top of paperwork and reports from home. Most days, he sat in the parlor of Dawn Winery, surrounded by maps, reports, half-finished letters, and stacks of unsigned documents. His once-precise handwriting had grown tired and uneven.
But he kept going. He had to. It was the only way he knew how to keep himself from falling apart completely.
Every few minutes, he would glance down the hallway that led to Diluc’s room. His mind filled with the sound of muffled crying, of strained breathing, of the fragile voice that still sometimes called out in the middle of the night—panicked, incoherent, begging someone invisible to stop.
He’d learned not to go running to that voice.
Because if he did, Diluc would lash out.
It had started small—Diluc pulling away from his touch, flinching when Kaeya brushed his hand against his shoulder. Then came the fights. The raw, wild kind of fights that broke Kaeya’s heart each time. Diluc’s eyes would flash with panic, and he’d shove, kick, swing. Kaeya never fought back. He’d just block, catch, restrain—softly. Quietly. Let Diluc exhaust himself. Let him scream if he needed to.
After, Diluc would lock himself in another room, switching again and again, refusing to stay anywhere too long. He said it felt suffocating.
Kaeya had learned to let him.
Today was different, though. Adelinde had come quietly to the parlor that morning, whispering that Diluc wanted to walk around.
“Just a short walk,” she’d said softly, her eyes weary. “He said… he feels too trapped.”
Kaeya had only nodded. He couldn’t even bring himself to smile at the small progress. Every “good” day felt fragile, like glass that could shatter without warning.
And so, as he sat now on the couch, papers spread across his lap, he tried to pretend his pen wasn’t shaking in his hand.
The quiet shuffle of feet made him look up.
Diluc was there—pale, thin, a ghost of himself. His long red hair was tied loosely back, but his eyes were distant, hollow, barely glancing at anything around him. Adelinde followed a few steps behind, hovering protectively, her hands wringing the edge of her apron.
Kaeya froze. He didn’t speak. Didn’t dare.
Diluc’s gaze flicked toward him briefly—just long enough for Kaeya to see the storm gathering in his eyes.
Then Diluc looked away. He took a slow step forward, his fingers twitching slightly. The bandages around his wrists were faintly visible under the sleeves of his loose shirt. His breathing was shallow but steady.
Kaeya set his pen down, voice soft. “You’re walking again.”
Diluc didn’t answer.
Adelinde gave a small, nervous smile. “He wanted to stretch his legs a bit. The rooms were feeling… too small.”
Kaeya nodded, forcing a gentle tone. “That’s good. I’m glad you’re out of bed.”
Something in those words—gentle, careful—seemed to ignite something in Diluc. His hands clenched at his sides. “I’m not bedridden,” he muttered sharply.
Kaeya blinked, caught off guard by the sudden hostility. “I didn’t say you were.”
“Yes, you did,” Diluc snapped, louder now, his chest rising and falling quickly. His voice was sharp, defensive—angry, angry in a way Kaeya hadn’t seen since before Sumeru. “You said it like I’m some invalid, like I can’t even stand on my own two feet without someone watching me.”
“Diluc, I wasn’t—”
“You were!” Diluc’s voice cracked but his glare didn’t falter. “You all think I’m helpless now, don’t you? That I need to be pitied? That I’m—” He gestured to himself, trembling, seething. “That I’m broken.”
Kaeya set his papers down, exhaling slowly. He didn’t want to do this. Not today. He’d been so careful, walking on glass for weeks—but Diluc always seemed to find the sharpest shards to cut himself on.
“No one thinks that,” Kaeya said softly. “We just want to make sure you’re all right.”
Diluc’s eyes flared. “There it is again. That tone. That stupid, patronizing tone like you’re talking to a child.”
Kaeya’s jaw tightened. “I’m not—”
“Don’t lie to me!”
“Diluc,” Kaeya said quietly, trying to keep his voice even. “I’m tired too, all right? I’m doing my best to help you. You’ve been doing better, today was a good day, and—”
That was it.
That one sentence set everything off.
Diluc’s face twisted, red with fury. “A good day?” His voice cracked into a half-yell. “You think this is a goodday? You think me walking around like some ghost counts as progress?!”
“Diluc—”
“Stop saying my name like that!” he shouted, stepping forward. “Like you care! Like you actually know me anymore!”
Kaeya stood up instinctively, hands raised in a placating gesture. “You’re twisting my words. Please—”
Diluc lunged.
It happened fast—too fast for Kaeya to brace for it. Diluc swung his fist at Kaeya’s face, missing by inches. Kaeya backed up, but Diluc didn’t stop. He lashed out again, fists shaking, raw anger twisting his face.
“You don’t get to call this a good day!” Diluc roared, his voice cracking with strain. “You don’t get to act like everything’s fine, like I’m fine!”
Kaeya caught his wrist before the next hit could land. “Stop!” he said, voice firm but trembling. “Diluc, stop—please—”
Diluc growled and tried to kick him, catching Kaeya’s shin. Kaeya hissed in pain, stumbling backward, but Diluc came again—swinging, clawing, desperate.
He caught Kaeya’s cheek with his nails—three sharp streaks of pain across skin. Kaeya flinched. Reflex overrode thought.
He pushed.
It wasn’t hard—not really—but Diluc wasn’t steady. He stumbled backward, hit the edge of the table, and went down hard.
The dull thud that followed made the whole world stop.
“—Diluc!” Kaeya gasped, his blood running cold. He rushed forward, heart hammering, only for Diluc to let out a sharp, broken yelping sound that tore through him.
Diluc’s hands flew to his stomach, curling in on himself as he hit the floor. His breathing turned shallow, fast, trembling.
Kaeya froze mid-step. “No—no, no, no, no…”
He dropped to his knees beside him, voice cracking. “Luc, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to—”
Diluc didn’t answer. His eyes were squeezed shut, his face pale. He was shaking—hard—and his breathing came out in short, panicked gasps.
Kaeya’s chest felt like it was splitting open. He reached forward instinctively, but Diluc flinched violently, his whole body jerking back.
“Don’t touch me!” he gasped, voice hoarse and panicked.
Kaeya froze again, his hand hovering uselessly in the air. His throat burned. “…okay,” he whispered. “I won’t. I won’t, I promise.”
He sat there on the cold floor, hands trembling, watching as Diluc hugged his stomach tighter, curling up smaller and smaller. His breath hitched with every exhale.
“Luc, please,” Kaeya said softly, voice breaking. “I swear I didn’t mean to push you like that. I just… you were—” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “You were angry. I didn’t think. I just wanted you to stop hurting yourself.”
No response.
Just soft, uneven breaths.
Adelinde rushed in a few seconds later, her hand flying to her mouth at the sight of Diluc on the floor. “Archons—what happened?”
Kaeya’s mouth opened, but no words came out. His chest was tight, his throat ached, his eyes stung.
“I—he—he got angry,” he managed finally, his voice thin and weak. “I said something stupid. He tried to— I just—”
Adelinde knelt quickly, trying to help Diluc up. “Master Diluc, are you hurt? Please, breathe—”
Diluc turned away from her touch, whispering something small and broken under his breath. Kaeya strained to hear, but it was barely a whisper:
“Stop… don’t touch me…”
Kaeya’s heart felt like it was being torn in two.
He stood up shakily, pressing a trembling hand against his face. The scratches stung, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t even look at Diluc now. Not when he’d pushed him. Not when Diluc was trembling like that—like Kaeya was one of them.
Kaeya didn’t sleep that night.
He sat in the chair beside the bed, head in his hands, listening to Diluc’s uneven breathing—the occasional twitch, the soft mumble of dreams he didn’t want to imagine.
The dawn came like it always did—quiet and uncaring.
When Diluc finally stirred, Kaeya straightened up, half-expecting another bout of screaming, another argument, another day of walking on glass.
But none came.
Diluc blinked slowly, eyes glassy, unfocused. His pupils were blown wide, red lashes fluttering as he looked around the room like he wasn’t sure where he was. Then his gaze caught on Kaeya’s face.
And he smiled.
Kaeya froze.
It was faint—barely there, small, tired, soft. But a smile nonetheless.
“…hey,” Diluc whispered. His voice was slow, almost slurred. “You’re… still here.”
Kaeya swallowed. “Of course I am.”
Diluc’s gaze flicked around the room again before coming back to Kaeya. “Good,” he murmured. His words tumbled out without rhythm or reason. “It’s… it’s warm today. I think. Or maybe that’s the blanket.” He tugged absently at the corner of it, eyes unfocused. “Do you think it’s warm?”
Kaeya managed a faint smile. “Yeah, it’s warm.”
“Good…” Diluc murmured again. “I like when it’s warm. The floor in the other place was always cold. You know? Hard. And they’d say not to shiver, but I couldn’t stop…”
Kaeya’s smile faltered, his heart twisting painfully.
He reached forward without thinking, gently taking Diluc’s hand in his own.
Diluc looked down at the touch, blinking as though trying to process it. Then, slowly, his lips curved up again. “…your hand’s warm too.”
Kaeya didn’t trust his voice, so he just squeezed softly, letting Diluc hold on.
For a few minutes, Diluc kept talking—disjointed, rambling things. About the way the sunlight looked on the curtains. About how the ceiling reminded him of something he couldn’t remember. About how he’d had a dream about fire, but not a bad one this time.
None of it made sense. It didn’t need to.
Kaeya nodded, murmured soft acknowledgments whenever Diluc paused. “Mm.” “That’s good.” “Yeah?”
He tried to follow, to piece meaning out of the broken threads, but it didn’t matter if he understood or not.
Because Diluc was smiling.
He was quiet. Gentle. Mellow. His voice didn’t shake with rage or panic or pain. His hands didn’t tremble from fear—only from weakness. And he let Kaeya touch him.
When Kaeya brushed a stray lock of hair away from his face, Diluc didn’t flinch. When Kaeya’s thumb lingered at his cheek, tracing the faint hollow there, Diluc leaned into it with a small, sleepy sigh.
Kaeya’s chest ached.
He shouldn’t like this. He knew that.
He shouldn’t prefer this version of Diluc—the soft, pliant, half-lost one.
He shouldn’t wish for quiet instead of recovery. But gods, after months of screaming, shaking, crying, flinching—after nights spent holding him through tremors and nightmares—Kaeya didn’t know what to do with the silence except cling to it.
He almost forgot that peace in this house was never real.
Because just as that thought crossed his mind, he felt a small tug at his wrist.
Kaeya looked down. Diluc was staring up at him—eyes wide, dazed, pupils blown. His fingers curled weakly around Kaeya’s wrist, tugging once, twice.
“When…” Diluc murmured, his voice soft and uneven. “When are you gonna sleep with me?”
The words hit Kaeya like ice water.
“…what?” he said quietly, hoping—praying—he misheard.
Diluc blinked, looking at him like it was the most natural question in the world. “When are you gonna… y’know.” He made a vague motion with his hand. “Sleep with me. You always—people always do after. After I talk nice.”
Kaeya’s breath left him all at once.
For a second, his brain refused to process it. His ears rang. The room felt suddenly smaller, colder, the air thick with something he couldn’t name.
He swallowed hard, forcing his voice steady. “Diluc… no.”
Diluc tilted his head, confused. “No?”
“No,” Kaeya repeated, gentler this time. “We’re not—no one’s doing that. Not now, not ever. I’m not here for that.”
A soft frown tugged at Diluc’s lips. He blinked, eyes darting around the room as though trying to find the part that made sense. “…Did I do something wrong?”
Kaeya shook his head immediately. “No. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Then… why not?”
“Because,” Kaeya said softly, “you don’t want that. Not really. You’re tired. You’re confused.”
Diluc let out a tiny, breathy laugh—quiet, almost kind. “I’m not confused. It’s okay. I’m good, see?” He tugged at Kaeya’s wrist again, like he was trying to prove something. “I’m good. You don’t have to pretend.”
Kaeya’s throat closed up. “Diluc, stop—”
“I promise I won’t bite,” Diluc said with that same small smile, and gods, it was wrong—so wrong. It wasn’t teasing, it wasn’t sly—it was soft. Eager to please.
Kaeya pulled his wrist gently free and took a step back, voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to do that, Luc. Not for me. Not for anyone.”
Diluc’s smile faltered. “But… that’s what they like. That’s what I’m for.”
Kaeya’s heart shattered. “No, no, no—no one should have told you that.”
Diluc blinked, clearly lost. “Then why are you here?”
Kaeya’s breath caught. He knelt beside the bed, hands trembling as he reached out to cup Diluc’s face, his thumbs brushing against the faint scars near his temples. “I’m here because I love you, Diluc. Because you’re my brother. Because you’re safe here, and I’ll never hurt you.”
Diluc’s eyes darted between Kaeya’s, confusion flickering there, as if trying to find truth in words he didn’t understand.
“…brother,” he whispered. “No. That’s not—no, you’re not him.”
Kaeya froze. “…What?”
Diluc laughed softly, shaking his head. “He’s dead. My brother’s dead. You’re just—” his voice dropped to a hush, fragile, rehearsed, “you’re just another one. They said I have to be good. So I am. I can be good for you.”
Kaeya’s stomach turned. He reached for Diluc’s hands again, holding them tightly between his own. “Stop. Please. Listen to me. You don’t have to be good for anyone. Not for me. Not for them. You don’t owe anyone that.”
Diluc just stared. “Then… what am I supposed to do?”
“Just rest,” Kaeya whispered. “Just… be here. Talk to me. Sleep. Anything. Just don’t—don’t try to give yourself away like this.”
Diluc blinked, his lip trembling faintly. “You don’t… want me?”
Kaeya’s voice broke. “Not like that. Never like that.”
Diluc frowned, his eyes clouding with something like shame—or maybe fear. “Oh. You’re mad, then.”
“No, gods, no.” Kaeya shook his head furiously. “I’m not mad. I just—” His voice faltered. “I just want you to know that you’re not something people take turns using. You’re you. You’re Diluc. You’re—” His throat closed again, and he couldn’t finish.
For a long, unbearable moment, Diluc just looked at him, still wearing that uncertain, empty smile.
“It’s okay,” he whispered finally. “You don’t have to lie. It doesn’t hurt as much anymore. Not if I just… stop thinking.”
Kaeya bit down on a sob, his chest tightening until it hurt to breathe. “Please don’t say that.”
“It’s true,” Diluc murmured. “When you stop thinking, it’s easier. The walls, the cold, the hands—everything just goes away. And then you can smile. And then they don’t get angry.”
Kaeya reached forward suddenly, pulling him into a trembling hug.
At first, Diluc went stiff in his arms—but then, slowly, he seemed to melt. Kaeya felt the way his shoulders sagged, how his breath hitched like he didn’t know what to do with warmth anymore. Kaeya tightened his hold, one hand trembling against Diluc’s back.
“It’s okay,” he murmured against his hair. “You’re safe.”
For one brief, fragile second, Kaeya thought—hoped—that Diluc understood.
Then he felt Diluc’s hands move.
Not to return the embrace, but to tug weakly at Kaeya’s shirt. Fingers fumbling with the fabric, tracing over the hem with a nervous, learned rhythm.
Kaeya froze. “Diluc—wait—”
Diluc looked up, his expression soft and nervous. “You said it’s okay,” he whispered. “You can—if you want to—”
“Stop,” Kaeya said, gently but firm. He grabbed Diluc’s wrists before they could move any further.
Diluc blinked, confusion flooding his face. “Why?”
“Because that’s not what I meant,” Kaeya said, his voice shaking despite his best effort to steady it. “I wasn’t—this isn’t—”
Diluc’s eyes flickered down to where Kaeya still held his wrists, his breathing quickening. “Then… when are you going to?”
Kaeya’s stomach dropped. “What?”
“When are you going to touch me?” Diluc asked, his tone small but insistent, like he was trying to guess the right answer to a test. “You always have to. That’s what happens next.”
“Diluc,” Kaeya said, his throat raw, “no one has to do anything to you ever again.”
Diluc shook his head, frowning faintly. “You’re lying. They always say that before.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Then why are you holding me like this?” Diluc asked, voice cracking. “You’re—you’re supposed to—” He faltered, his words breaking apart, tears suddenly welling in his eyes. “I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong.”
Kaeya’s pulse thundered. He loosened his grip but didn’t let go completely. “You’re not doing anything wrong, Luc. You’re not. You just—you don’t have to do this.”
Diluc’s lips trembled. He looked at Kaeya’s hands on his wrists, then up at his face. “You look angry.”
“I’m not angry,” Kaeya lied. “I just—” He tried to breathe through the wave of nausea rising in his throat. “I don’t want you to think I’m like them.”
Diluc’s confusion deepened. “You’re not,” he said softly, but his voice quivered. “You’re nice. You don’t hit me.”
Kaeya felt his chest seize. “That’s not—” He broke off, running a hand through his hair. “Gods. Diluc, please listen to me. You don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to offer—this.”
Diluc’s gaze darted between him and the floor, panicked and lost. “Then what am I supposed to do?”
“Just… be,” Kaeya said weakly. “You don’t have to perform. You don’t have to make anyone happy. Just rest.”
Diluc’s eyes filled with tears. “You don’t want me anymore,” he whispered, voice cracking.
Kaeya took a step forward, desperate to soothe him—but the moment he moved, Diluc flinched back hard, trembling.
Kaeya stopped dead.
“Luc,” he said softly, “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Diluc ducked his head, whispering rapidly, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—please don’t leave—please don’t—”
“Hey—hey,” Kaeya said quickly, reaching out a hand but not touching him. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
But Diluc just kept mumbling apologies under his breath, eyes wide and glassy. He started to shake harder, his fingers twitching at his sleeves like he wanted to tear at his skin.
Kaeya took another step back, his own breath quickening now. He couldn’t—he couldn’t breathe through this. Not while looking at him like that. Not while knowing that any sudden move would make it worse.
“Diluc,” he whispered, “I’m right here, okay? I’m just—”
He looked toward the door, voice faltering. “I’m just gonna call Adelinde. Just for a minute.”
Diluc’s head jerked up, his voice breaking. “No, don’t—don’t go—”
“I’ll be right outside,” Kaeya promised, even as guilt clawed at his throat. “I just—need a second.”
He turned and walked out before he could stop himself.
Outside the door, he leaned against the wall and covered his mouth, shaking. The cool air hit his face, but it did nothing to steady him.
Adelinde appeared down the hall, her hands wringing nervously. “Master Kaeya?”
Kaeya swallowed hard. “He—he’s asking for me again,” he said quietly, his voice uneven. “please be there for him..i can’t..”
Her expression softened, pity and worry all at once. “oh kaeya..alright.”
Kaeya nodded, but his throat burned too much to speak.
When he finally turned back toward the door, he could still hear Diluc’s voice—soft, broken—murmuring something from inside.
Apologies. Over and over.
Kaeya pressed his back against the wall, closed his eyes, and let his breath shudder out of him.
Dinner came quietly, the kind of quiet that hummed low in the air—thick, tense, unspoken. Adelinde helped Diluc down the stairs, her arm looped carefully through his. His steps were slow, deliberate, but his head was held a little higher than it had been in days. His eyes, though… they were sharp again. No longer glassy or unfocused. Anger flickered behind them—something more familiar, almost comforting in its volatility.
Kaeya had already set the table, two plates arranged neatly across from each other, the third beside Diluc’s seat for Adelinde. He looked up the second he heard them approach. “You made it down,” he said softly, trying for a smile.
Diluc didn’t respond. His jaw was tight, his expression unreadable. Adelinde pulled out his chair and helped him sit. He muttered something under his breath—something like I can sit on my own—but didn’t protest further.
The three of them sat in silence for several minutes. The clinking of cutlery filled the room—Adelinde’s careful motions, Kaeya’s quiet attempts to eat normally, Diluc’s slow, absent stirring of food around his plate.
Kaeya was the first to break the silence. “How are you feeling today?”
Diluc didn’t even look up. “My head hurts.”
Kaeya nodded, glancing down at his food. “That’s… understandable. You haven’t been sleeping much.”
“Didn’t ask for advice,” Diluc muttered.
The words cut, but Kaeya only exhaled slowly. He leaned forward slightly, clasping his hands on the table. “I know. But I wanted to talk about something that might help.”
Diluc’s fork paused mid-motion. “Help?”
Kaeya hesitated. “Yes. I think it’s time we start looking for someone—someone professional—to help you. A therapist.”
The air went still.
Adelinde’s head turned toward Kaeya sharply, as if warning him to tread carefully. Diluc, however, didn’t react at all. His hand resumed moving, pushing peas into a small pile on his plate.
Kaeya cleared his throat softly. “It’s just—someone you can talk to. Someone who’s trained to—”
“I know what a therapist is,” Diluc snapped suddenly, his voice cutting through the air. His head shot up, eyes blazing with sudden fury. “I’m not fucking stupid.”
Adelinde immediately reached out, her voice soft but firm. “Master Diluc, please—”
Diluc’s hands were trembling now, his fork clattering onto the plate. “He thinks I don’t know what that means,” he said bitterly, glaring at Kaeya. “Like I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Like I need someone to tell me I’m broken.”
Kaeya’s chest tightened. “That’s not what I meant—”
“Then what did you mean?” Diluc’s tone was sharp enough to draw blood. “You think some stranger is going to fix me? You think sitting me down and making me talk will make this go away?”
“I think,” Kaeya said carefully, fighting to keep his voice level, “that you deserve help that I can’t give you. Someone who knows how to help with this kind of pain. It’s not about—”
But Diluc wasn’t listening anymore. His eyes had gone glassy with frustration, his chest rising and falling faster. He grabbed his fork again and stabbed it into his food, twisting it in the plate as if it were something he could destroy.
“Stop talking,” he muttered.
“Diluc—”
“I said stop talking.”
Kaeya leaned forward slightly. “I can’t just stop talking when—”
“STOP!”
Diluc’s hands flew up suddenly, his palms clamping over his ears. “Stop, stop, stop, stop!” His voice cracked mid-scream, the sound shrill and raw. “Stop talking!”
The sound echoed through the dining room.
Kaeya froze. For a moment, he couldn’t even breathe. Adelinde’s eyes widened, her hands halfway between both men as if she could shield them from each other.
“Diluc—” Kaeya started, trying to lower his tone, but Diluc just squeezed his hands tighter against his ears, his knuckles white.
Kaeya reached across the table instinctively, trying to touch his wrist. “Hey—hey, it’s okay, no one’s—”
“STOP!” Diluc screamed again, louder this time, shaking his head violently. “You never stop! You never shut up—just stop talking!”
Kaeya’s heart pounded in his chest. “Luc, please—”
That’s when something in him snapped.
“Enough!” Kaeya shouted, slamming his palm against the table. The sound cracked like thunder in the quiet room. “Enough, Diluc!”
The room fell into silence, except for Diluc’s ragged breathing. His hands had dropped away from his ears, his expression frozen between fury and fear.
Kaeya immediately regretted it. His voice—too loud, too harsh—still hung in the air.
Diluc stared at him, wide-eyed, then turned his face away sharply. “You always get what you want,” he muttered hoarsely. “Even now.”
Kaeya swallowed, forcing his tone softer. “That’s not true.”
Diluc’s shoulders hunched. “You want to fix me. You can’t. You can’t fix what’s been done.” His voice wavered, the anger beginning to fray. “You can’t undo it. You can’t make me normal again.”
Adelinde put a gentle hand on his back, her eyes glistening. “Master Diluc, no one expects you to be what you were. We just want you to heal.”
Diluc pushed her hand off and stood abruptly. The chair scraped back across the floor, the sound loud enough to make Kaeya flinch. “I don’t want to heal,” Diluc hissed, voice trembling. “I just want to be left alone.”
He stormed out of the dining room, his footsteps echoing through the hall.
Kaeya stayed still for a long moment, staring down at the untouched food in front of him. His pulse was still racing, his throat aching from shouting.
Adelinde sighed softly beside him. “He’s… trying,” she murmured. “and so are you.”