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With Teucer finally on his way back home, Childe heaves a sigh of relief. Of course, he feels remorseful for not being able to say a proper goodbye but as he’d mentioned to the Traveller, it is good for Teucer to not see him this way. The strain from overusing his delusion and coupling it with Foul Legacy has really taken it out of him.
Seeing both Paimon and the Traveller off, Childe decides to go back to work, hopefully the dullness of paperwork and sitting behind a desk will help him gather some energy before his evening engagement. He’s optimistic that the constant heaviness in his body is nothing he can’t cope with.
Poring over the reams of documents on his table has Childe drifting into unconsciousness and a niggling feeling in his head tells him it’s not boredom and that something is seriously wrong with him – physically – before he can so much as analyse it though, he’s out like a light.
“Master Tartaglia, please wake up.”
It’s as if the voice is coming from underwater, Childe recognises that it’s Katya calling out to him, he can feel her hands gently trying to shake him out of his stupor, but the lethargy refuses to loosen its hold on him.
It’s not that his body aches or his muscles are sore. No, this is so much more different than that. It’s as if the blood in his veins has turned to lead, that his brain can’t seem to fire off the right command to the right muscle to respond, his tongue feels heavy where it sits in his mouth, the inside of his head is full of static. Childe fights against the draw asking him to succumb, to let go and to simply slumber.
“Andrei, Andrei, come here,” panic laces Katya’s voice and Childe can’t have that. He must resist the call, he must force himself to awake, he must attend the dinner.
Drawing on the last vestiges of his strength, Childe forces his eyes open and wills his throat to speak.
“It’s okay. I’m fine,” even to his own ears he sounds hoarsely haggard. His own voice feels as if it’s travelling underwater – his hearing impaired still.
“You clearly need help. Andrei…” Katya’s rising voice makes Childe want to cover his ears.
“Where is that useless fellow. He should be back by now.”
“Please… softly,” Childe requests.
“And you’d have me believe you’re okay? I’m going to cancel your dinner with Mister Zhongli. You’re either way an hour and a half late for it and you’re in no condition to leave.”
“No, no…” blind panic surges through Childe’s chest and he tries to get up – he must see Zhongli. They’ve only just begun rebuilding their relationship after what had happened. He can’t miss this dinner.
“Mister Zhongli will understand,” Katya tries to force him back down in his seat but with a burst of energy Childe shoots up, the movement causes him to lose balance and almost crumple if it weren’t for Katya’s quick reflexes.
“Okay, you need a healer. I need you to stay put while I go contact someone at Bubu Pharmacy to come take a look at you. You can’t –”
Childe grunts, he really shouldn’t have overexerted himself. He’s losing control of his body. He wants to reassure Katya that some rest is all he needs but his tongue won’t move.
Ages ago, Dottore had even warned him to not use the delusion in quick succession and especially when coupled with Foul Legacy it could have unpleasant consequences, but Childe had thought that after so many years of training and honing his skills he’d be fine. Clearly, he needed to work harder to become stronger. What would Skirk think if she saw him like this?
There’s a soft knock on his office door that pulls his out of his thoughts, “Childe are you in there?”
“Mister Zhongli, oh thank the Tsaritsa, please do come in. We need your help.”
Before Childe can stop it, Zhongli is entering the room, his brows furrowed, concern etched on his face. Childe really doesn’t want the other man to see him like this. He’s been defeated in front of Zhongli far too often for his liking. Yet, his presence makes some of the lead in his blood start to dissolve.
“Miss Ekaterina, what’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure Mister Zhongli, but maybe you can figure this out. Can I leave Master Tartaglia with you while I make inquiries at Bubu Pharmacy?”
Childe watches the interaction with bleary eyes. Zhongli nods at Katya, who after speaking in hushed tones, hurriedly makes her way out, probably to get someone from Bubu. Zhongli then makes his way over to him; he looks worried and maybe it’s all the exhaustion that’s tricking Childe but also the older man looks distraught.
“You’re burning up,” Zhongli’s hand is so warm against him, uncomfortably so. Childe must make his displeasure known for Zhongli immediately removes his hand. Childe wishes the hand would come back – how pathetic he is – even when his body rejects the touch, his heart aches for it.
“Childe, I’m going to settle you over there on the sofa,” Zhongli speaks softly, informing him of what he’s going to do so as not to startle him.
Zhongli puts an arm around his back and the other behind his knees, and if Childe could he’d have put his hands around Zhongli’s neck but it’s far too much effort. Somehow, even without his help Zhongli is able to carry him easily – must be that ex-archon strength, Childe muses.
Zhongli lays him down on the sofa then retreats, Childe voices out his protest and the older man is back at his side. What must Zhongli think of such a pathetic display?
“Shh… It’s okay. I am here. I am going to go find some cold water and compress to help with your fever. I will be back before you know it. You must let me go, Childe.” Zhongli extricates his hand from Childe’s grip. Childe didn’t even realise he’d done that. Why is he being so clingy?
Childe lets his eyes shut when he feels Zhongli move away. It’s too much of a chore keeping them open anyway. He’s being dragged under water once again and this time he wonders if succumbing will help. As he teeters on the edge, a cool wet cloth comes to rest against his forehead and Childe sighs in relief.
This feels so nice. He doesn’t want it to stop. The wintry sensation helps ground him in the present – away from the turgid waters.
Childe hears the door creak open; he feels as Zhongli’s body heat retreats once again and the protest is on his lips ready to fall, but then he’s being poked and prodded. It feels much different than whenever he has been assessed by Dottore. Maybe that man should learn something of bedside manners from the person currently attending to him. More movement, and then Zhongli’s heat is back at his side and internally Childe sighs. If he could, he’d snuggle into the man’s side.
There are voices around him, discussing him likely. He can only pick up a few words and some of it makes sense while other doesn’t.
…delusion malfunction… abyssal… rest… adeptal energy… my home…
Under the glacial caress, Childe drifts in between consciousness and not. He floats somewhere above himself, not aware of his body yet acutely so. His mind muddled with so much and nothing at all.
It is his parched throat that wakes Childe up. As he comes to, Childe realises that he is neither at the Northland Bank nor at his house, instead, he seems to be in Zhongli’s bedroom. His observation is heavily based on the fact that next to the bed he is in there is a highbacked chair in which the ex-archon sits sound asleep.
For a moment, he simply observes the quiet grace with which Zhongli is resting in the chair. His face is unguarded, his brows are relaxed and even in sleep Zhongli radiates a kind of strength that Childe wishes he will be capable of mastering one day.
Childe glances around taking stock, the room isn’t grandiose, but neither is it spartan. In fact, as expected, the room is adorned with knick-knacks, artifacts, books, scrolls, paintings and more. If he were to estimate, the room could easily cover his salary for a year and then some more with all it contains.
Everything is organised – the bookcases are chock-full, the worktable at the far end opposite the bed is laden with scrolls, and on the left is an aralia shelf littered with artifacts. The bed he’s on is large but not overly so, the bedding is soft under him. As he takes in more of the room, his gaze lands on the bedside table where a glass of water sits covered Zhongli must have put it there for him. He definitely feels much better than he did… a while ago? Yesterday? How long has it been?
When he moves to pick up the glass his body follows his command, no longer does he feel overwhelming exhaustion pluck at his consciousness, and he’s thankful. He’s about to drink the whole thing in one go when a soft noise of reproach startles Childe.
“Easy, sip slowly.”
He can hear again – Zhongli’s voice no longer seems as if it’s coming from somewhere far – its resonant quality reverberates in Childe’s bones.
Sheepishly, turning back to the glass in his hands, Childe sips slowly as advised and waits.
Zhongli’s face is impassive, and Childe feels nervous suddenly. He could read more on that face when it was unguarded by the waking world.
Would Zhongli throw him out now that he has seen how weak Childe can be? Is he disappointed in Childe for not being able to handle a little bit of overexertion? It must have been terribly cumbersome for Zhongli to bring Childe all the way to his own home, he should apologise.
“I am so sorry.”
Zhongli’s face morphs into shock and then it falls – disappointment written on it clear as day. It is always so with Childe – sooner or later he disappoints everyone.
Childe swings his legs around the bed to leave, only to be halted by Zhongli's upturned palm.
“Where are you going?”
“I have bothered you enough already. I should go home and also check in on Katya. She was worried sick.”
“I was worried sick as well,” there’s some annoyance in there that Childe picks up on instantly.
“I am sorry, I really didn’t intent to put you out like that. I meant to keep our dinner engagement but,” and then Childe trails off. What more can he say? Zhongli was there – he saw and knows more than Childe about what happened.
“Why do you keep apologising,” Zhongli bristles, “you keep apologising and it pains me.”
Shit. Zhongli is upset. Childe really doesn’t want that, but he is sure that if he says sorry once more, he might just get to taste the famous Wrath of the Rock.
“You were unconscious for three days, Childe.”
Childe thought it must have been a day at most but three…? He really must have been on the brink.
“I… uh, I’ve imposed on you enough, Zhongli.”
“Why do you think your being here is an imposition?”
What kind of a question is that? Of course, his being here is an imposition. It is taking time away from Zhongli to do his… duties, and to attend to his work.
“I was weak,” the words slip out before he can think, and his eyes immediately shoot to Zhongli’s.
“And?”
“I’m a warrior.”
“Yes, but that is not all that you are,” something in Childe’s heart cracks at that declaration from the God of Geo.
“No, do not get up,” Zhongli warns but Childe is already tumbling forward, his legs weak from a long period of immobilisation, he fears landing face front on to the floor, but strong arms catch him and then he’s settled on the bed again. Zhongli settles down on the bed next to him, his hold on Childe’s hand almost painful.
“Now, that I am no longer the Archon of Liyue, do you think less of me?”
“Of course not.” Childe huffs at how ridiculous that thought is.
“Do you feel as if I am less powerful?”
Oh.
It finally hits Childe what point Zhongli is trying to make.
“Please do not scare me like that ever again, Childe.” Zhongli sounds wounded.
He didn’t mean to overexert himself. It’s not like he has a death wish, people tend to confuse his need to excel and to become better by honing himself with combat as him flirting with the end.
Childe opens his mouth to apologise again but Zhongli silences him with a finger against his lips.
“I do not want to waste another moment. You do not seem to understand the depths of my feelings for you, so I would like to say it plainly, I am in love with you,” a fond smile plays on Zhongli’s lips – Childe recognises it as the one only he is privy to. Yes, he has catalogued all of Zhongli’s expressions and this smile has only ever been revealed to him and no one else.
“Thinking that I almost lost you, especially after we were beginning to mend the rift between us caused by my deception truly made me realise that I cannot go a day more without you knowing the truth of the matter,” Zhongli takes in a shuddering breath, his hold on Childe’s hand loosening then tightening once more, “I sincerely hope you will allow me to care for you, to love you and to cherish you – for the man and the warrior that you are.”
Tears prick at Childe’s eyes, but he holds them back, he needs to respond but can’t find the words so he does the only thing he can and kisses Zhongli. It’s a chaste kiss and he hopes Zhongli can feel his love through it. When Childe is about to pull back, Zhongli nips at his lower lip. Childe gasps at the sensation parting his mouth and Zhongli deepens the kiss. His hands rake through Childe’s hair pulling their faces even closer together.
Childe feels something deep within him respond to Zhongli – a different sensation than any he has ever felt before – shocked he pulls back only to see fine gold threads adorning his skin.
“What?”
“I should explain,” Zhongli replies guiltily, caressing the fine gold lines that seem to be running through Childe’s veins, “Doctor Baizhu spoke about how there seemed to be something interfering and further corrupting the delusion’s power. There seems to be somewhat of a crossed-wire situation the last time you used your delusion and Foul Legacy. Doctor Baizhu recommended rest and medicine, however after half a day when your fever wouldn’t break, I employed the use of my adeptal powers, and they seemed to work.” Zhongli pauses, giving Childe time to process what he has said. Childe nods, gesturing for Zhongli to explain further, “They worked too well, apparently and it seems like a certain essence of me is now flowing through your bloodstream…”
“Forever?” Childe asks. He doesn’t hate that idea, if he’s being honest.
“I do not think it is permanent. However, it is helping fight against the infection and if you’d be amenable to it, I would like to continue to channel my energy through you, just to ensure your proper recovery.”
Childe nods – too much has happened in the span of time that he has been unconscious and while he has many questions, right now he cares only about one thing –
“I would like that.”
“Hmm… For me to channel my energy?”
“For you to take care of me, to love me and to cherish me,” Childe responds and in return, he receives a blinding smile from Zhongli. This one is new, and Childe hopes he will be able to make Zhongli smile like this for a long, long time.
Zhongli delicately rearranges them on the bed, Childe’s back to his front. Intertwining their fingers, Zhongli channels his adeptal energy through Childe and it’s so pleasant. Warmth blooms in Childe’s chest and he settles against Zhongli, letting his head fall onto the old god’s chest. Childe feels calm – for the first time in his life he feels as if he doesn’t need to be on the move, that he doesn’t need to be on the lookout, so he lets himself relax against Zhongli.
This time when Childe falls asleep, he knows he is cared for, loved and cherished.