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Almost everyone liked Cavalry Captain Kaeya Alberich, and most who didn’t possessed at least a grudging respect. It was easy to say that he was far more than beloved. Warm smiles, smooth words, and hidden actions; he put on the mask of a slacker, but the only person who worked harder than the Acting Grand Master was the Cavalry Captain himself.
Those who knew anything knew that much. He protected Mondstadt from threats both visible and hidden. His keen eye could spot the symptoms of corruption, weed out anything that would threaten the safety of the city.
His city. His home. His people. He loved them more than anything. More than himself. So he would smile, even as an insidious monster crept up his collar to latch itself around his throat.
Alcohol eased its squeeze; with Death After Noon strong enough to loosen its grip the most reliably. When it was out of season he simply tried to ignore the beast by pushing himself even harder than normal. Stacks and stacks of documents, maps, intel, and notes would take up his spaces, visible signs of his efforts.
The adoration and gratitude of the people of the city helped immensely, a tangible thing that he could wield against the slowly suffocating grip that refused to let go.
Cavalry Captain Kaeya Alberich was successful and beloved, he was needed and welcomed. He was someone many people aspired to be. He was looked up to; a hero in his own right.
But no one was immune, not even a hero.
-
There were signs, but the problem about them was that they tended to be subtle; hidden. A few extra drinks at the Angel’s share. Reporting late for duty. Sudden and unexplained absences, despite never having left the city. A blank stare at a wall when he believed no one to be watching. A growing stack of neglected paperwork. A few lost pounds.
The signs were obvious, if you knew what to look for.
But most people didn’t, and simply saw them as traits or matters of circumstance.
Captain Kaeya enjoyed his drink, and clearly he was late because he was hungover or worked deep into the night. His absences were likely just investigations or catching up on rest after missions. He was deep in thought, and simply had more important things to do that paperwork right then; he’d get to it later. The weight loss? He was busy so he probably just forgot to eat; Jean did that too.
People crafted excuses and explanations for his actions, and who was he to deny such handy stories? Saved him the effort of weaving them himself.
A few of the more observant, those closest to him, could sense something was off, though. Some tried to approach and ask, while others took more direct action; Diluc cutting him off at the bar, Jean lessening his workload, Amber showing up at his house unannounced to drag him to work. People cared, and showed that in varying ways.
But no one knew the full extent of it, and because of that no one knew what to do.
-
“You really do like ginseng, don’t you, Sir Kaeya?” Blanche asked, passing the paper bag of groceries over to the man. “If you’d like, I could find you some recipes from Liyue?”
Kaeya smiled warmly. “That sounds lovely, Blanche. I look forward to seeing what you come up with.~”
Blanche beamed and waved goodbye as Kaeya bid his farewell, taking long confident strides down the city streets. It was his day off, but he had to spend it running errands. The sun was setting and he had just completed his last task, and made his way home as quickly as he could.
The frost flowers in the boxes in front of his house made a cool wispy breeze, comforting in the warm summer evening and was a wonderful insulator that kept the inside of his home a comfortable temperature.
The door closed behind him with a click, and with a slide of the lock, Kaeya breathed.
Sluggishly he sat his purchases on the table, moving to the fireplace and plucking an incense stick from the jar. A strike of a match and soon enough the smell of frankincense filled the room. The smell had embedded itself into the fabric of his furniture, and even into the wood of his kitchen table.
He sank into a kitchen chair and stared blankly at the wood grain of the surface. He had some cold goods he needed to put in the mist flower box, so he knew he would have to get up and put everything away.
He was so tired, though. A deep weight in his marrow that kept him welded to the chair. So heavy the drag that he couldn’t even bring himself to look up from the table.
It was hard to say how long had passed, but it wasn’t until the grandfather clock in the corner chimed the hour that he was knocked from his reverie.
Using the booming ring as a starting gun, Kaeya forced himself to his feet and slowly began the process of putting his groceries away. As he worked, he noticed some produce in the mist box was beginning to go off. They needed to be discarded before they got any worse, but the thought of doing that was almost too much. Instead he closed the door and resolved to do it in the morning.
The task only took about five minutes. Part of him knew he should probably eat, but the thought of putting the effort into preparing anything was also too much. He didn’t feel hungry anyway, so it was fine.
He poured a cup of water and moved to the couch, falling into the plush softness and smelling the frankincense waft out from inside. The cup rested in his hands, otherwise untouched, as he simply stared forward at the unlit fireplace.
The sun fell completely and shrouded the house in darkness, but Kaeya couldn’t bring himself to get up to turn on the lights. Contented to sit in the darkness, he closed his eyes.
-
The grandfather clock ringing the morning hour woke Kaeya with a jolt, adrenaline rushing through his blood before he began to piece together what happened.
Obviously he didn’t make it to his bed-again. He’d fallen asleep on the couch, the cup of water thankfully not having tipped in his slumber.
Kaeya closed his eyes again, the thought of having to get up was already exhausting him. He would, he just… needed a minute.
A minute turned into an hour, and once more the grandfather clock rang out. With a deep steeling breath Kaeya forced himself to stand, that action alone taking a significant amount of willpower.
He made himself slam the cup of water, setting the empty container on the table to be worried about later. He opened the mist flower box and glanced inside, realizing that there wasn’t much he could eat that didn’t take at least some preparation.
Settling for a carrot and an apple, he gnawed on the orange root as he trudged up the stairs and to his bedroom. He changed his clothes, leaving what he had worn the previous day in a small pile on the ground. He spent long enough in front of the mirror to make himself look presentable, ensuring nothing seemed out of place from his normal appearance.
Back down the stairs, a glance at the clock proved that he was, once again, running late due to how long it took him to detach himself from the couch. He wasn’t going to get any more on-time, so he didn’t rush as he found his satchel and slung it over his shoulder, scooping the apple up and biting into it as he left his house.
People smiled and greeted him a good morning on the way to the headquarters, and each person got their own smile in return. He had no idea how many people he interacted with by the time he got to his office, already wiped from the simple interactions. Normally he had a bit more tolerance than this, and briefly began to consider the worth of raiding Jean’s coffee supply.
His pondering was cut short by the woman herself knocking on his office door, slipping inside. “Kaeya, there you are,” she sighed, “late again?”
Kaeya lifted his hands in a placating gesture. “Apologies, Acting Grand Master.” He smiled. “A little too much to drink last night.” A lie.
Jean’s lip twitched downward, in displeasure or skepticism Kaeya wasn’t sure. She then sighed. “You’re setting a bad example to the other recruits; please bear that in mind. Anyway, I didn’t come here to talk about your attendance.”
“What can I do for you?” Kaeya was grateful the subject dropped, and knew he would have to work a little harder to stop being late. Even Jean would have to put her foot down eventually.
“It’s not much, here.” Jean passed him a file; a list of small incidents that needed to be investigated. “I hope your hangover improves. If you need me, you know where to find me.”
“Of course.~” Kaeya smiled.
With a nod, Jean left, allowing Kaeya to be alone once more.
-
Kaeya knew it was probably just circumstance, but an entire day spent chasing leads of every kind, only for him to be met with absolutely nothing of value, did a number on one’s self confidence. When he offered her his report at the end of the day, she was visibly disappointed, but smiled nonetheless.
“Thank you for your hard work, maybe we’ll have better luck tomorrow. Rest for now.”
With that dismissal, Kaeya left and made straight for the Angel’s Share, his haven of alcohol and numbness. It was maladaptive as hell, and he knew that, but it made life more tolerable, even if only for a little bit.
The Angel’s Share was as bustling as it normally was, people laughing and chatting and having a grand time. It was a good atmosphere, and most days Kaeya actually found himself enjoying it.
That day was not one of them, unfortunately. He sat at his table, nursing his third Death After Noon and rubbing his brow as his brain cycled over and over on how useless he was. How Jean’s disappointment was pointed at him and his failures, rather than at the situation itself. Why did he even bother, if he couldn’t get results on something so simple? Why was it so hard to just do things anymore?
The noise in the tavern was a lot, a dull roar that made his head hurt. The energy was exhausting as well, even though he was not part of any of it and simply a bystander in that evening’s revelry.
An attempt to take another drink was met with an empty glass and, with a sigh, he stood and trudged over to the bar.
Diluc was there that night, and passed him only half a glance as he approached.
“Drinking yourself stupid again?” the tycoon asked almost bitterly, turning and taking the glass.
“What can I say, you make the best drinks.”
“Don’t make me complicit in your own self destruction.”
“I’m doing no such thing.~ Now, would you be so kind as to prepare me another?”
“No.”
After three? Diluc was cutting him off more and more…
“Now now, I’m hardly drunk, and I have mora; why so cold?”
“Just go, Sir Kaeya.” Diluc turned his back on him with a flat tone, and began the process of cleaning the glass.
With a frown, Kaeya’s head buzzed. Diluc tended to be cold towards him, which was painful enough on its own.
That night, though, one where he was already aching so badly…
It hurt more than he realized it could. Diluc really did hate him, didn’t he?
How worthless he was, that he couldn’t even keep the affection of someone who used to love so openly… How he let that radiant smile flicker and die.
“I’ll see you… tomorrow, then,” Kaeya said, turning to go.
He left the Angel’s Share with a smile on his face, even as the vibrating grief in his chest reverberated more and more violently. He felt like he was going to be sick and his head swam. His breath came out hard, winded despite no exertion.
He turned in the direction of his home and began to walk, head down and smile wavering. His senses were blurred as he made it halfway across the city in a haze, only managing to mumble an apology to the young dark-haired woman he brushed shoulders with. He moved with purpose, and while he thought he heard something be said by her, he said nothing in reply. It didn’t matter.
Nothing mattered, did it? He was useless, everything hurt, and nothing would get better.
Why was he bothering? Every day was such an exhausting drag. He had no family left; his biological Father abandoned him, Crepus died protecting Diluc, and Diluc hated him.
He didn’t remember opening his door and stepping inside, the smell of frankincense hitting his nose and bringing him a little closer to reality. He turned the deadbolt latch and shambled into the kitchen, his hands gripping his shoulders tightly as he just stood there and stared at the wooden floor.
The patterns in the wood became indiscernible as he felt his knees give out, tears blinding his eye as he felt himself begin to sink.
Every day was a struggle. Every task, every smile, everything took so much energy, and no matter how much rest he tried to get, he never felt any better. Putting on the mask of a happy man was his only defense; fake it until you make it.
But what happens when faking it doesn’t work?
Why was he doing anything? Mondstadt didn’t need him, Jean didn’t need him either. He was a Cavalry Captain with no Cavalry; he was redundant. Jean was capable, and she had people like Eula, Lisa, and Albedo to rely on.
What did he have, really? Why was he fighting? Why did he bother getting out of bed in the morning? He was so tired.
So tired. He just… didn’t want to do anything anymore.
He knelt in the kitchen, a puddle on the floor from tears he could no longer restrain, unsure of why he was crying at all. All he knew was that it hurt. It hurt so badly. He would rather a million blades dig into his skin than have to continue to endure the deep agony of whatever it was that had latched onto his soul. An insidious and immovable monster; one that had weighed on his chest since he was a teenager.
Even back when he was happy, and he had no reason to be sad, it was there.
Even as an adult, with adoration and appreciation, it hauled him down into the deepest depths where he couldn’t escape. He fought it back with everything he could find that helped, but it only grew larger and larger, until the weight of it kept him pinned to the floor.
He wanted to escape, he wanted it to go away.
He wanted to just stop hurting.
Nothing mattered. Nothing was worth it. What was he even doing? Why did tomorrow matter at all? Everyone would survive without him; he wasn’t really needed.
It wasn’t worth the effort… was it?
He wondered then, if Barbatos would be willing to take him if he…
Well… Even the abyss would be better than the ache that settled itself deep into his very essence, inescapable.
In a haze of sudden numbness, Kaeya got to his feet and looked around. He didn’t want to make a mess; the least he could do was make cleanup easier…
He paced the house, looking at what he had on hand. The ceiling was a bit too low to use rope, and despite everything he would rather leave some dignity intact. He also didn’t want to cause a giant incident, so doing it in his home would be best.
A quick skim of his medicine cabinet proved useless; he didn’t have anything that could do the job painlessly. He could wait, take a trip to the forest and find something. Though he could also just get himself killed fighting an abyss mage or something. Less obviously suicide…
But the ache was too much, he didn’t want to wait.
“Fuck it.” He muttered, digging in his coat and withdrawing his sharpest dagger. It glinted in the light, it’s lethal edge singing sweet promises.
He made for the bathroom, turning the faucet of the bathtub and allowing it to fill with water. He sat outside of it on the floor, leaning over the edge and twirling the blade with the point down on the surface, digging a small groove into it.
His thoughts wandered as he waited. Jean would be sad. Klee would be devastated, though most likely the truth of his passing would be hidden from her until she was older. She’d be fine, though. Would the city mourn for him, he wondered? Would Diluc?
Well, none of it mattered, did it?
The water lapped at his elbows, soaking up into the fabric of his shirt and sending a chill into his skin. He leaned forward and twisted the faucet knob off, stopping the flow. His gaze remained on his hands as he worked, watching his fingers as he slowly and methodically plucked one glove off, then the other. Both cuffs were then removed and his sleeves rolled up to just below the elbow.
He could feel his heart beating in his chest, yet despite his body’s fight or flight reflex kicking in, he felt at peace.
It would be over soon, he thought to himself as blade met flesh, wincing in pain.
He lowered the bleeding arm into the water, and leaned over the edge and closed his eyes. He laid there and allowed his mind to wander, briefly touching on the idea of leaving a note.
Well, it was a little late now. Oh well, they would be smart enough to figure it out on their own.
He heard the clang of the grandfather clock, but paid it no mind as he felt his head begin to swim, the cold of the floor creeping up into his legs. He wondered when he’d lose consciousness.
He felt himself begin to drift, twitching slightly as he was vaguely aware of loud banging and shouts. The voice sounded familiar… Who?
More banging, then the sound of splintering wood. His name.
Everything felt like static, and he only had the energy to close his eyes again. The voice sounded familiar, what-
Kaeya was wrenched back to semi-coherency as his body was drenched with cold and reddened water, a large form hauling him haphazardly from the edge of the tub and away from it. He blinked and tried to focus on who it was, only able to make out black and red.
He felt something be tied painfully tightly around his arm, and his fingers began to tingle even more than they had been.
“-ya. Wa-- up!”
Everything sounded muffled and he grunted, weak and struggling to grasp what was happening. The figure snatched something from a rack and gripped his wrist tightly with it, pressing down almost painfully.
“Stupid-”
Kaeya breathed and tried to make out what was being said.
“Get ---bara!” the figure, a man, shouted to someone out of sight, before looking back at him.
It was cold, and he was so tired… He gave into the urge to close his eyes.
Sharp pain and his head wrenching to the side snapped him back.
“Don’t you fucking dare fall asleep on me!” the voice snapped, the first clear thing Kaeya could hear. The stinging pain in his face served to give him a small bout of lucidity.
“Luc…?” Kaeya slurred, finally making out the man who held him in his arms, a painfully tight grip around his wrist where he applied pressure to the gash.
“Kaeya, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Diluc snapped, his voice laced with what could only be described as near hysteria.
“Trying to die, obviously,” Kaeya responded lethargically, not putting much thought into the statement. It was true, after all.
Diluc swore again. “Why?!”
“Cuz it hurts,” Kaeya mumbled, his fatigue outpacing the adrenaline from being slapped. “Everything hurts, I want it to stop…” He blinked and looked at Diluc properly. “Why are you here?”
“It doesn’t matter, I’m here now. Kaeya I-” Diluc stumbled over his words. “Kaeya I’m so sorry-”
“Since when have you ever given a shit?” Kaeya asked, a faint flicker of resentment warming his chest despite the creeping frost.
“I-” Diluc choked on his reply, hesitating and instead leaning forward to yank Kaeya into a tight hug, never letting go of the blood soaked cloth clutched around the other’s wrist. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, Kaeya.”
Kaeya’s head was still very hazy, but he could have sworn those last words were sobbed out, Diluc burying his face in the other’s shoulder.
Muddled thoughts began to process the situation, and with a jolt of fear and frustration he realized what was happening; Diluc had thwarted his attempt. He wouldn’t be able to end it.
“Let me go, Diluc,” Kaeya grit out, weakly trying to struggle. While the tycoon loosened his grip, he didn’t let go.
With a grunt of frustration Kaeya went for the tourniquet on his arm, desperately trying to rip it off. Diluc was forced to let go of the other man’s body to snatch his other wrist, accidentally letting him fall harshly to the ground.
“Damnit Kaeya-!”
“Just let go of me! Let me go!” Kaeya tried to wrench himself free, but he wouldn’t have been able to escape Diluc’s grip even if he wasn’t half dead from blood loss.
“Just shut up! I’m not letting you do anything stupid!” Diluc snapped back, raising his voice and pinning Kaeya’s arms at his side. “Stop fighting me! I’m not going to let you die! You aren’t allowed to die.”
How selfish. Kaeya glared and scowled, but fell silent as he knew that he wouldn’t be able to win against the larger man. Little could match Diluc’s brute strength.
Diluc breathed hard, leaning over the Knight and looking him over with eyes of terror, panic, and grief. After a few moments of silence, he spoke again; softer. “I’m sorry, Kaeya… I won’t let you die. I don’t want you to die. I’m sorry I never noticed, what you were going through...”
“I’m here!” A voice, a young woman. Heels charged through the house and familiar blonde hair popped into view. For a delirious second Kaeya thought it was Jean, but a beat later he realized it was her sister.
A steady humming tune and Kaeya could feel the wound on his wrist knitting back together, the cloth being removed and the tourniquet untied. He could feel what little blood he still had rush back to the limb, sending painful static through it.
“We need to get him warm,” Barbara instructed, and immediately Diluc ripped his coat off and bundled Kaeya with it, the body warmed leather tailored for a broader shouldered physique, so he wound up swimming in it. “Help me take him to the church?”
“Of course, just a moment,” Diluc replied, taking a moment to shove his hand into Kaeya’s own jacket.
Annoyingly the tycoon had the foresight to check for additional weaponry, and methodically disarmed the Captain of anything he could try to use on the way. Only once Diluc was sure he was fully weaponless did he bundle Kaeya back up in the jacket and pick him up.
Thankfully it was quite late; anyone still out would be too drunk to notice anything. A small mercy, since Kaeya knew he’d have to continue to tolerate his miserable existence.
He was carried out into the warm evening, held closely to his ex-brother’s chest as their small group made their way up the many stone steps.
“I’ve got you, Kae,” Diluc muttered softly. “I won’t let you go. You’re going to be okay.”
Kaeya just grunted in displeasure, closing his eyes and deciding if he couldn’t die, then napping would be the next best alternative.
-
He woke up restrained, the memories of the previous night hazy. The sun beamed cheerily in through the window and cast a warm light across the room that was, honestly, somewhat cozy. He inhaled slowly and gently pulled at his bonds; they were soft and surprisingly comfortable, but also immensely sturdy. He had some range of movement, enough to ensure comfort, but not enough to really do anything.
Like trying to hurt himself, for instance.
“Ah, Kaeya, you’re awake.” A soft voice drew his attention, and he glanced over to see a haggard looking Jean at his bedside. She offered him a weak smile, reaching out to gently move his hair from his face for him. “How do you feel?”
“… I’m not sure how I’m supposed to answer that,” Kaeya mumbled.
Jean’s expression turned sad, and she leaned down to rest her forehead against his. “I’m so sorry, Kaeya. I never even suspected...”
“I hid it,” Kaeya confessed simply. “I made an effort to keep anyone from knowing.”
“...Why?” Jean asked with hesitation, sitting up to kneel by the bedside, gripping her friend’s hand.
“I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want to bother anyone with it. Easier to pretend it wasn’t an issue; ignore it until it went away.” Kaeya was too tired to lie or put on an act. The cat was out of the bag; might as well put everything on the table.
“Kaeya-”
“What happened last night?” he cut in.
“You don’t remember?”
“It’s hazy. I remember the Angel’s Share, and feeling...” A pause. “I left and went straight home. Decided to act on the urge. I remember trying to come up with a plan. I...” Another pause. “I remember cutting my wrist and putting it in the water. The rest is a blur.”
Jean hesitated but began to speak. “You brushed past Mona, and she… had a vision. She knew she wouldn’t be able to stop you, so she rushed to get Diluc at the Angel’s Share. He broke your door down and saved you.”
“Why would he do something like that?” Kaeya mumbled, mostly to himself.
Jean opened her mouth to reply and stopped, glancing at the door. “Why don’t you ask him yourself? We’ve been taking turns keeping watch over you; we only just made him lay down, but he demanded we tell him when you woke up.”
A grunt was all Jean got, and she stood. “I’ll be back in a moment,” she said softly before turning and going for the door. She spoke quietly to someone around the corner and a nun slipped inside, taking up vigil in her place.
Kaeya said nothing despite the nun’s attempts to assess his condition. He just stared at the ceiling until the door opened once more, familiar heavy boots echoing on the stone floor.
Diluc spoke softly and politely to the nun, thanking her and sending her out. Only once the door clicked shut behind her did he sit down.
They lingered in silence, neither saying the first word. Diluc’s eyes shuffled everywhere, until finally they moved to look at the man on the bed beside him. Kaeya glanced over then, and could see that Diluc looked even worse than he felt; which was impressive.
“Why?” Kaeya asked again.
Diluc knew what was being asked of him. “Because I don’t want you to die,” he replied.
“Why?” Kaeya asked a different question.
“Because I care about you.” Diluc said, gripping his pant leg. “Because, despite my own fuck ups, I never stopped caring about you… even if I acted otherwise...” Diluc’s brows knit tightly in the telltale way it always did when he was trying to fight back tears. “I… I couldn’t bear to lose you too, Kaeya.”
Silence passed between them for a moment.
“It never went away, did it?” he then asked. “The darkness. You said it was gone, I believed you.”
Kaeya exhaled slowly. “It was easier to just ignore it,” he answered weakly. “To pretend like every day wasn’t an exhausting slog, that just existing wasn’t a strain. It was easier, then, for other reasons as well.” Kaeya finally turned to look at Diluc. “It’s a soul-eroding experience, to put everything you can muster into every day, just to give the illusion of being ‘normal’.
The tycoon’s expression wavered, and after a moment of fighting it he allowed his feelings to finally show. “I’m so sorry, Kaeya. For everything. For abandoning you after Father died, for attacking you when you were honest with me. For treating you so poorly… For not seeing the signs...” Diluc’s voice was weak and warbled on the edge of composure. “Kaeya… please… I can only guess what you must be feeling. How unbearable it must have been for you to go so far as to-” Diluc’s throat seized and his words cut. “Please, is there anything that can be done, anything at all that can help you endure? Convince you to… to stay? You’re my brother, you’ve always been. I want to be here for you now, like I was back then.”
Kaeya was, unlike the previous night, sober and more in control of his own thoughts. Still, he knew that now that he had his foot in the door with one attempt, a second wasn’t as unlikely.
“I don’t know, ‘Luc,” Kaeya answered, “I’ve done everything I can to fight it…”
“Not everything. You can let us in; let the people who care about you support you.” Diluc’s hand rested on Kaeya’s cheek, making him have to turn his head and meet the other’s crimson eyes. “I know I’m a massive hypocrite, but please just let other people help you. Let me help you. I know it’s selfish of me after everything I’ve done, but-”
Kaeya wanted to be bitter. The thought of existing with that dark cloud over his head was almost enough to make him consider just biting his own tongue off.
But…
Seeing Diluc, on the verge of tears and opening his heart like this…
“You mean it?” Kaeya asked hesitantly. “You aren’t lying just to soothe your own guilt?” An accusation.
“No! Never! Kaeya I-” Diluc’s voice raised for an instant before he forced it back down. “I’m not lying. I’ll spend the rest of my life if I have to proving that I’m not lying.”
Kaeya looked Diluc in the eyes, well and truly looked.
And decided that, if Diluc was in fact telling the truth, he could… at least try.
“… I suppose… I should thank you, then,” he said softly. “For stopping me. I don’t want to live if it means suffering like I have, but… if you and everyone else genuinely believe you can help me… It’d be selfish of me not to let you at least try.”
“Of course. You can lean on me whenever it gets too difficult. You’re not alone; I’m sorry for ever making you think you were...” This was the most honest and open Kaeya had seen Diluc since they were kids; while it was nice to see, part of him wished it came as a result of a less tragic event…
Still, it was something. It didn’t make the darkness magically go away; the dread and fatigue was still there, weighing him down…
But if he didn’t have to carry it alone, maybe he could tolerate it.
-
Kaeya, despite his verbal promises not to try anything, wasn’t allowed to be unsupervised for nearly a week and a half. The truth of what happened to him was kept brilliantly under wraps, with the only people who knew for sure being Barbara, Rosaria, select nuns, Diluc, Jean, Mona, and Albedo. As far as the public knew, he simply had a bad run-in while in the line of duty, and was recovering well at the cathedral.
Rosaria boxed his ears something fierce, but Kaeya knew that simply meant she was worried about him. Jean was far more gentle, offering comforting words and letting him talk, apologizing for her own failings. Barbara would come by to sing for him to help his mood, soft or cheery tunes and anything else he requested.
Even Albedo came in a few times, both to check on his friend and to discuss potential treatments. It was no surprise that Albedo’s mind went straight to finding a solution, ever the alchemist.
“I suspected something based on your behavior and the persistent smell of frankincense,” he explained, “but I failed to accurately assess the severity; for that I’m sorry.”
He would go on to discuss cooperating with a pharmacist from Liyue, acting as a liaison to create something to attack the core of the issue; Kaeya was unwell, like anyone could be.
“It’s no different than having a heart condition, or having diabetes. You didn’t choose to be this way,” he would say, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “When you’re sick, you treat it. It’s as simple as that; no need for shame.”
Kaeya had no idea how much he needed to hear that until it was said. To hear that it wasn’t his fault, that it wasn’t anyone’s fault; depression didn’t care who you were, what you did, or how many people loved you. It lingered in the background, waiting to sink it’s claws into you at the slightest show of weakness.
-
When Kaeya was finally released from the Church's custody, he was immediately presented with the fact that while he wasn’t going to be watched by the nuns, he was still going to be watched by his brother, who had taken it upon himself to occupy the guest bedroom for the foreseeable future.
‘Brother’. A word that felt equal parts strange and nice on the tongue. Nostalgic, comforting. Even if Diluc was being obnoxious in his doting, to the point Kaeya wanted to throw him out the window.
The younger sibling struggled to find much privacy in that first week, but despite the annoyance, having Diluc around was… nice.
Diluc was no stranger to Kaeya’s condition, as it had first reared its head when they were teenagers. Just like then, he began doing the little things, picking up the small pieces that Kaeya dropped as he tried to go about his days.
Kaeya didn’t have the energy to cook? Diluc would. Kaeya could only wash half the dishes? Diluc would do the rest. Able to wash the clothes, but not put them away? Diluc was on it. Where Kaeya tried and fell short, Diluc would be there to pick up the slack. Diluc wasn’t alone in his efforts, and so where he was unable to help, others would step in to assist in his place. While mostly in the dark, even Amber was intuitive enough to understand something had happened, and even began doing what she could for him as well.
Kaeya did his best to live normally, to do what he could, but having someone there to support in such a small way had a massive effect. Having Diluc’s presence was comforting as well, and their conversations were nice, void of so much as an inch of judgment.
As they talked, Diluc even confided in his own struggles; flashbacks and anxiety that stole his sleep. How he secretly used medications to manage them. He understood, in a way. That meant more than Kaeya realized, having someone who could empathize with the struggle, even if it took a different form.
Rosaria would swing by frequently, often under the pretense of dropping something off or asking a question, though it was obvious she was checking on him. She would walk into the house and silently appraise the condition as they talked, leaving if it checked out, or doing something to remedy it if not.
Jean was less subtle in her visits, spending significant time with him to make sure he knew he had friends who cared for him. They would talk or play cards, or even just occupy the same space as Jean went through paperwork at his kitchen table.
Eventually Kaeya was able to return to work, easing himself back into his normal duties until he was back in what appeared to be full form.
He still struggled; terribly. It wasn’t until he had the support of those around him that he finally began to understand just how difficult his life had become. When the darkness was all he knew, how could he comprehend anything else? He had lived for so long under the oppressive thumb of his own mind that he had forgotten what it was like to be even slightly free of it.
While some things would remain a secret to the grave, Kaeya was willing to continue seeing a therapist, opening up somewhat to them and allowing himself to go through the mortifying ordeal of letting someone pick at his own head; he would have been a liar if he said he didn’t feel improvement, even if it felt invasive at times.
After a few failed attempts, Albedo also managed to put together an elixir that actually managed to make Kaeya feel something approaching content for the first time in a long time. It wasn’t a magical fix-it, but it made the bad days less frequent and the creeping dark less daunting to battle.
The dark cloud never left, but it probably never would; it was part of who he was, but he didn’t have to be defined by it. He had people who loved him and supported him unconditionally; with that and treatment he knew he had nowhere to go but up. It wasn’t a linear climb, however, as there were days - even weeks - where he spiraled back down; but he was stronger now, and could fight his way back into the light. When he couldn’t, he knew he could reach out and be pulled free of its grasp.
-
Kaeya knocked on the wooden door, glancing behind him briefly before looking back as the door opened. A haggard looking Mona looked up at the Captain and blinked. “Sir Kaeya,” she greeted in mild surprise, stepping back to allow him inside. “To what do I owe this visit?”
Kaeya smiled, sincerely, and passed a box into the woman’s hands. “I apologize for arriving unannounced, but I wished to thank you.”
A beat passed and Mona nodded in understanding, holding the strangely warm and delicious smelling parcel.
“If you hadn’t passed me that day, and taken the initiative to get Diluc… I doubt I’d be here today. For that, Mona Megistus, I owe you my life,” Kaeya said softly. “I know these skewers are but a small thing in comparison, but I wanted to show you my appreciation… I was going to make an irreversible mistake.”
Mona stood silently for a moment, taking in the words before smiling. “Your thanks is enough. I’m glad you’re well, and you even seem to be thriving, if I may be so bold.”
“I wish perhaps it could have happened under better circumstances, but… Yes.” Kaeya nodded. “I feel better than I...really ever have. Not every day is perfect, but… I can get through the bad ones, now. Anyway, I need to return to work, I just wished to deliver these while they’re still warm. I hope you enjoy them. Feel free to stop by if you ever want more; I’ve found myself far more eager to cook as of late, and meals always taste better with friends.”
Mona gave a soft smile and nodded. “I may take you up on that offer. Be well, Sir Kaeya.”
With a polite nod, Kaeya left, closing the door gently behind him. He looked up to the morning sun beaming down on his face.
It felt nice.