Chapter Text
Kaeya made it into the Angel’s Share with barely a stagger, sauntering up to the bar and leaning heavily on it. To his immense joy and relief — by all the grace and mercy of the gods (or perhaps their pity) — a familiar head of red curls greeted him with a likewise familiar scowl. Kaeya's gaze softened at the sight.
It was towards the later part of the evening and already Diluc’s unruly hair was escaping its ponytail. Kaeya longed to gather up the wayward locks and strands and neatly smooth them back into an elegant ponytail, like he did when they were kids. He'd have to wash his hands first, as bloodied as they were.
Kaeya was abruptly dumped back into the present moment as Diluc greeted him with a grunt. A wordless, what’s your order?
“Death after noon, please,” Kaeya rasped, leaning into the huskiness of his voice and acting more sultry, flashing Diluc a wink. Diluc all but rolled his eyes at him, tutting softly.
“Already drunk?” He said, distastefully eyeing how heavily Kaeya slumped over the bar. Kaeya merely grinned, his vision swimming as the wound in his side pulsed.
“Afraid of your loyal customer getting drinks from elsewhere?” He teased, deflecting Diluc’s unstated comment on his behaviour. If Diluc was going to mistake his borderline delirium caused by pain and blood loss for drunkenness then Kaeya was going to let him.
Diluc snorted, turning away to grab a glass. “Not at all,” he replied mildly. “I welcome it.”
Kaeya’s slight hitch of breath caused pain to flare at his side. Perhaps the inside of his chest stung a little, too. They’d always been like this, even before Diluc had disowned him, teasing with insults. Kaeya wondered, not for the first time, just how much sincerity was buried in those callous comments. Perhaps Diluc really did begrudge Kaeya’s visits to his tavern. Fortunately for Diluc, this would be Kaeya’s last night.
Maybe after he was gone Diluc would tend the bar more often.
“Your death after noon,” Diluc announced, setting the glass down in front of Kaeya. Kaeya hadn’t even realised Diluc had made it. Maybe he was minutely blacking out at moments. Kaeya didn’t mind, so long as no one noticed.
“Thanks, love,” Kaeya said, wrapping one hand around the glass, still playing the sultry angle — passing off his deathbed voice for a bedroom one instead. Plus, the more he disgusted Diluc, the more likely he’d be left to die in peace.
Digging a handful of coins out of his pocket, he set them on the counter. Diluc eyed them curiously. Death after noon wasn’t cheap, but it cost less Mora than this. But Kaeya didn’t have the strength to count; he needed to sit down, now.
“For the drink, and to pay off some of my tab,” Kaeya said, not meeting Diluc’s eyes. Part of him regretted not being able to pay off the tab in full, to erase at least one of his debts to the Ragnvindrs. Alas, he was in no state to meander back to his apartment and pick up more Mora now. With a half-hearted wave, Kaeya used his hip to push himself off the bar. “Have a good night, Master Diluc.”
Not waiting for a reply, and perhaps deliberately fleeing before he could hear one, Kaeya weaved and wobbled his way between tables and patrons, heading straight for the stairs. Each step was agony, pulling at the wound, sparking pain like fire. Ah, how ironic to feel a pain that burned. Kaeya smiled, thinking of that bitter night he lost everything. If anything, since then he’d just been waiting for today: his final, miserable end to his miserable existence.
He collapsed into a chair by the balcony railings, choosing a spot where he could overlook the bar whilst also keeping his eye on the stairs. Lounging as best as his bloodied wound allowed, Kaeya settled in to wait, watching Diluc work as he sipped his glass of death after noon. He hoped the alcohol would numb his pain soon.
-- ☆ --
Diluc watched Kaeya cross the tavern floor, keen eyes picking up the unusually unsteady gait of the Cavalry Captain. Kaeya was a graceful thing, but today his wavering balance made him sway, each step placed without the lethal elegance Diluc was used to seeing from him.
That had been Diluc’s first clue that something was wrong; the drunken way Kaeya had approached the bar. The second had been Kaeya’s payment. Kaeya wasn’t exactly rich, having never touched his inheritance from the Ragnvindr family after their estrangement. That wasn’t to say that Kaeya wanted for money, either, earning a reputable salary as a Knight of Favonius. Of course, Kaeya was no stranger to flaunting his money, either to flirt, generously buy a round of drinks for people, or just for that spark of mischief Diluc was so used to seeing in his eye. But paying his tab?
If Kaeya paid, it was at the end of the night, after racking up a fair tab from drink after drink. Often, he didn’t pay at all. Diluc trusted him just enough to pay off his debts eventually, but he suspected Kaeya got a kick out of causing Diluc the headache of chasing up his tab. His customary smirk as he told Diluc to add another drink to his tab told him that much.
His third indication for concern was the way Kaeya took his drink and headed straight for the stairs — or at least, as straight as he could whilst wobbling his way across the floor. It was odd enough for Kaeya to seek solitude instead of the bustling company of the lower floor, but even stranger was how he didn’t stop to chat with any other patrons, barely greeting anyone he passed. Perhaps he was meeting someone upstairs? But even that didn’t explain Kaeya’s lack of socialising. Maybe he was running late, although Diluc hadn’t noticed anyone else head upstairs yet.
Diluc decided to watch and wait, keeping an eye on both the tavern door and the bottom of the stairs.
Unfortunately, nothing appeared at either of those places to assuage his concerns.
-- ☆ --
His shirt was soaked through with blood. He could feel it in the warmth that made the fabric cling to his skin, the way it stuck around the wound and pulled sickeningly whenever he moved. He tried not to move. The blood had seeped to his pants now, too, a dark stain he’d never remove. A dead man had no need for clean clothes, after all.
Letting a breath out through clenched teeth, Kaeya took another sip of his drink, gazing down at Diluc. If he forgot the pain clawing through his body, he could almost believe he had already passed; he was merely a spirit, watching over Diluc, seeing time unfold and life play out without him. It was comforting. Things would continue without him, maybe for the better. Probably for the better. Kaeya couldn’t know for sure, but he suspected Diluc scowled less when he wasn’t around. Maybe Diluc would even smile.
He was barely halfway through his glass but his blood was pooling on the seat of the chair. Kaeya muttered a soft curse, barely able to speak. His head felt like it was full of snow. His mouth felt like it was full of dandelion puffs. The clearest sensation was the searing pain in his side, and the flame of hair below the balcony, stood behind the bar.
Alas, it seemed the alcohol would not warm him quickly enough before the blood loss chilled him. His Vision glinted coldly at his side, almost mockingly. In the end, it hadn’t been good for anything. He wondered why he’d ever been given it. In the end, his Vision had just delayed the inevitable.
Or perhaps it had done him the justice of a slow and painful death, like he deserved, instead of the fireflash burn of instant retribution at Diluc’s hands.
It should have been Diluc, Kaeya mused. He didn’t wish Diluc the pain of ending another loved one, but it had been a long time since Kaeya had been counted among Diluc's loved ones, hadn’t it? So maybe it would be okay. Or would have been. Kaeya was sitting here now, waiting to bleed out. It wasn’t as if he had the strength to stand anymore, let alone hobble back downstairs to beg Diluc for a faster death.
No, he’d wait here. The upper floor was dark and quiet. Anyone that had reached the top of the stairs had been greeted with a stern, one-eyed glare, clearly signalling their unwelcomeness, and each patron had concedingly retreated back downstairs. Kaeya was grateful. Oh, he was so grateful, for so many terrible things.
He was grateful for the Mitachurl that had cleaved open his side, just below his ribs. He was grateful for his pride and stupidity that had earned him that mistake in battle. He was grateful he’d made it back to Mondstadt city, and that the guards at the gate had been none the wiser. He was grateful he’d reached Angel’s Share before his strength failed him and he was grateful to see Diluc tending the bar.
He was grateful he could see Diluc in his final moments. It was selfish, he knew. He didn’t deserve Diluc’s company. He knew Diluc loathed him. Hated him.
Kaeya loved him, still.
Which was why this was enough — and too much for a sinner like him, just basking in Diluc’s distant presence. So close and impossibly far away, a rift between them greater than any physical distance and all the more untraversable for it.
It was enough to be sitting here. It was already so much more than he deserved. He watched Diluc mix drinks and clean glasses, dutifully serving patrons, reciprocating conversation with a few. He drank in the sight of his not-brother more deeply than his actual drink. The glass was left, half-drunk, ice melting. The taste of death after noon lingered faintly on his tongue and that was enough.
Very soon he wouldn’t be feeling much of anything at all.
And that was good.
-- ☆ --
Under Diluc’s watchful eye, he noticed that every patron that ascended the stairs immediately returned, meaning that Kaeya was alone on the top floor.
Not a private meeting, then. Unless Kaeya's mysterious appointment had snuck in without using the stairs. But no, the upstairs door was locked. He'd even gone and checked, softly turning the key in the lock to see if it had been picked open. It hadn't.
Kaeya was alone upstairs.
Worry gnawed at the back of his mind as he continued serving drinks, running through possibilities. Was this one of Kaeya’s schemes? There was nothing Diluc kept upstairs that Kaeya could tamper with, all their stock was kept in the kitchen and cellar. Was Kaeya just messing him around, playing some kind of sick prank to make Diluc worried?
As the time neared two in the morning, he caught Charles’ eye as the man returned from carrying some empty bottles to the bin out back. They exchanged a meaningful look and Charles nodded. Diluc set down the glass he was cleaning and withheld a sigh. He liked his staff because they were intelligent; he valued their input and insight, and took reassurance in their capability to manage any issues that might arise as a result of his vigilante excursions. However, sometimes their keen eyes read Diluc himself far too clearly, despite Diluc doing his best to hide his emotions.
Regardless, it gave him the opportunity to leave the bar in Charles’ care, taking the cloth with him to use cleaning tables as an excuse as he made his way upstairs.
The candles on the upper floor had all but burned out, leaving the balcony shrouded in shadow. Still, it was easy to locate the lone figure with the rest of the floor so deserted.
He found Kaeya slouched fully across the table, head resting on the wood. Diluc sighed, tutting as he made his way over.
“Kaeya,” he said, putting a hand on the knight’s shoulder to shake him lightly. “If you’re this drunk, you should go home.”
Kaeya barely stirred. Diluc noticed the glass of death after noon, half full. Dark smudges stained the glass.
His concern heightened.
“Kaeya,” he said more urgently, giving Kaeya’s shoulders a rougher shake. No response.
Kaeya was no lightweight drinker; half a glass of death after noon was hardly enough to make him tipsy, let alone catatonic.
Diluc’s chest felt tight. Anxiety burned inside him. Just like a real fire, it made breathing hard.
Had Kaeya been poisoned?
Diluc had been in possession of the drink right up until Kaeya took it, so there was no way it could have been spiked. Judging by how quickly patrons returned from going upstairs, nobody had set foot upon the upper floor, let alone made it over to Kaeya’s table to drop something in his drink. Had Kaeya been poisoned before visiting Angel’s Share? Diluc cursed him, reckless fool that he was to visit a tavern instead of the cathedral when he was clearly unwell.
Diluc shook him one last time in an effort to wake him up, then gave up and checked for Kaeya’s pulse. Brushing aside Kaeya’s hair and pressing his fingers to the knight’s neck, Diluc found his skin was cold and clammy.
That wasn’t good.
For a painfully long moment, Diluc failed to find any pulse at all. Finally, pressing hard, he felt it.
It was so very, very faint.
Stepping back, Diluc took in the scene fully. That was when he noticed the dark splotches underneath Kaeya’s seat. Crouching down, Diluc’s throat constricted as he saw what they were.
Blood.
As another droplet fell, Diluc’s worst suspicions were confirmed.
It was Kaeya’s blood.
Diluc snapped to his feet with a curse. He lurched forward to lean over the balcony, shouting down to the lower floor.
"Charles! Close the bar."
Despite his evident confusion, Charles met Diluc's gaze and nodded.
"Everybody out," Charles ordered. There was a murmur of dissent, a few groans and curses, but overall the patrons finished their drinks and began to leave without complaint.
Maybe the panic in Diluc's voice had been all too clear. Damnit.
Diluc returned his attention to Kaeya, taking hold of the knight by his shoulders with firm but gentle hands. He carefully sat Kaeya up, scanning for the wound.
Archons. There was so much blood. How was he meant to tell where it was coming from? Kaeya's previously white shirt was near unrecognisable. Even his fur cape was matted with blood. Diluc cursed again, more vehemently.
"Charles," he called, not moving from Kaeya's side, not looking away from his pallid brother. "Send for a healer."
"Yes Master Diluc," came the reply, and the tiniest knot of tension eased in him. Charles would find a healer. Diluc would stay here to try keep Kaeya alive until then. Stem the bleeding. Maybe he could cauterise the wound.
It would be okay. Kaeya would be okay.
His breath hitched, painfully. As his vision blurred with tears, Diluc belatedly recognised it as a sob.
Fuck. Fuck, he couldn't lose another family member. Not Kaeya. Not like this. The damn bastard had been sat not 10 feet from him, bleeding out!
"Curse you, Kaeya," Diluc bit out, words venomous but weakened by tears, belied by the ever so gentle way he moved Kaeya's chair back from the table. More blood splattered on the floor. "You can't fucking die. Not like this. Don't you fucking dare."
Talking helped. It stopped him from entirely breaking down.
As kids, Diluc had always been the more emotional one. Kaeya was a master of stoicism, hiding his true feelings, concealing his suffering. Even with night terrors so bad he woke screaming, Kaeya would deflect and brush aside concern. It took years before he allowed Diluc to comfort him, hugging his trembling body as he sobbed out whatever feelings had been dredged up by the nightmare.
Diluc, however… well. The best he could do was this: using anger as a shield, as the dam holding back the flood of emotions.
"You moron," he choked out. He clung to the anger, the frustration that Kaeya had just sat down and waited to die, that Kaeya could be so stupid, so selfish. That Kaeya hadn't trusted him with this.
He carefully, so carefully gathered Kaeya off the chair to lie him on the floor. Perhaps not the most hygienic, but Diluc was rather fastidious with cleaning so it was better than most. At the very least, it meant Kaeya's heart was level with his body and gravity wouldn't be so strongly aiding all his blood draining out. And, with Kaeya laid out like this, Diluc could search properly for the wound.
First, he tried unbuttoning the shirt but quickly realised it was a futile effort. The shirt was so bloodsoaked that it was ruined anyways. He'd have to cut it open.
Diluc summoned his claymore.
At least he could cut the shirt into rags and use any remaining dry parts to press on the wound.
Cutting open Kaeya's shirt, so plastered to his skin, was a delicate task. A claymore was definitely dissuited but Diluc was a stubborn man. It helped that his blade was near enough part of his body, an extension of himself. Decades of training compounded by three years of tireless fighting had made him quite the adept wielder.
He pricked apart threads, using parts of the shirt that were already torn — presumably from whatever attacks Kaeya had sustained before stumbling here to die. Bastard. Fucking fool.
Shirt cut to pieces, Diluc was finally able to peel it back, exposing Kaeya's bloodied, ashen skin…
And the bloodied mess of a wound sprawling across Kaeya's right side.
His right side. Diluc felt a helpless surge of anger. Kaeya's right side, his blind side. Kaeya had been blindsided. Probably overwhelmed with multiple enemies, his attention divided.
Once upon a time Diluc would have been there, fighting alongside him, protecting Kaeya's blind side whilst his little shadow darted around, keeping enemies at bay whilst Diluc's slow attacks wound up to power. They'd been a team, infallible, untouchable.
Diluc wondered if Kaeya had anyone to guard Kaeya's blind side. If there was someone, he wondered — with no small amount of loathing — where they'd been when Kaeya sustained this blow.
Sparks flitted across his vision. His Vision burned at his thigh. He was getting too emotional.
Kaeya might be cold but he wasn't dead yet — Diluc wouldn't allow it — so it would be monumentally stupid to cremate him now. Diluc forced himself to take slow breaths, like his father had taught him, steadying himself. Kaeya needed his help. Kaeya needed his big brother's help and by every god and Archon, Diluc was going to save him.
He couldn't bear any other outcome to come to pass.