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When Wanderer finally set the Traveler down on a fresh patch of grass-- far far away from Dottore's dome. He took a huge gulp of air like he couldn't take a single breath from before using his shoulder to stabilize himself, to be completely honest he couldn't either even without the need to.
That glance with the very same man that had tortured him to beyond belief had him suppressing a shudder, he felt a vague ache on his shoulder where the heretic hit. However they can't wait much longer for recovery. "The others are waiting for you, we can't linger here."
"You're injured" The golden eyed man said blankly.
Wanderer clicks his tongue, of course he notices.
"We can worry about that later." He extends his hand expectingly, the other incredulously takes it. Without another word, Wanderer scoops the Traveler off his feet and snugly settles him on his arms and takes off. He ignores the Traveler’s surprised yelp.
It's a beautiful sight really, to see the Traveler with wonder filled eyes looking down below. As rivers, valleys and land passed below them, there was something melancholic when he softened his gaze. Something left unsaid on the tip of his tongue. Unguarded and vulnerable but wholly safe in his arms. Wanderer found himself slowing down just to enjoy having someone so close to him.
Veraja knows he's going to miss it the moment he lets go of him.
When will he have someone as close to him as the Traveler resting his head against his chest again?
He felt pathetic to admit this, even in the confines of his own mind.
It ended all too soon when they reached the Curiotium Of Secrets, but he already knew that. Maybe, selfishly he should've gone slower but god the strain on his back has gotten worse. He wishes it wasn't possible as an artificial lifeform but he definitely overexerted his abilities... enough to wince and cause concern on the Traveler's delicate features.
The first one to happily greet the Traveler was Paimon, no surprises there. Shedding loud tears and quiet wails, both of them pulling each other close.
Neither of them really leave each other's side for that long do they?
Wanderer chides himself, Durin lives in Mondstadt with Albedo while he's a student of the Akedemiya of-course it's natural that there will be an enormous distance between them... He almost feels envious of how the two so proudly show their care for each other.
There was a set plan in motion, he could hear Sandrone wiling away in frustration in the other room while everyone slept.
However it was night and the mortals needed their rest.
He softly puts a warm blanket over Durin into his sleep, curling in on himself. Aggressively endearing is the only phrase that Wanderer could describe it with.
He hopes that somehow, the little dragon finds his slumber even with Varka's loud snoring just a couch away.
"You should sleep as well." A calm familiar voice spoke, it was of the alchemist. "Tch, we both know we don't need rest."
Apparently Albedo was amused.
"And yet, you're tucking us both to sleep."
A flush crosses his cheeks looking away, he walked into that one didn't he?
"You're exhausted.” Albedo Stated “And I'm sure the confrontation with The Doctor wasn't easy. At the very least– lay down with us, there's more than enough room." Albedo speaks in a much lower softer voice as Durin starts to let out small snores.
"...I can't."
At least not peacefully with the sore ache in his back.
Tipping his hat avoiding the almost sad but understanding expression the other gives him, sitting down on the sleeping bag beside Durin. "I have other things to do." he muttered, leaving their room.
Nefer had 'generously' given everyone rooms to share in her Curiotium.
He almost let out a mocking laugh when he saw the look on her face when she offered, though she hid it well it was largely obvious she wanted anything but.
Sandrone largely took over the storage unit to work with her metal junk, the knights of Favonius occupying the leftmost room, and the inhabitants of Nodkrai in the master bedroom while Paimon and the Traveler slept in the smallest right room. Claiming they don't need that much space.
Well considering only him and Sandrone were awake he might as well bothe---
He hides his shock when he sees the Traveler approaching him, tired dark eyes and unbraided long flowing hair only highlighted by the moonlight.
For all he’s seen of the Traveler even in his most lowest moments just mere moments after losing Teppei, he’s never seen him this…unkempt.
“Can’t sleep?”
The other bit his lip hesitating to admit something so obvious.
“Dottore he…” The traveler solemnly started and then stopped. “Nevermind.”
“Wait- You know you can tell me.” Veraja didn’t mean to sound as desperate as he did but it was rare for the Traveler to ever open up about his burdens. He didn’t want to miss this opportunity.
Wanderer manages to his disappointment when the Traveler shakes his head and instead drags him to his small room.
Littered across the room was his weapons, bag and Paimon sleeping peacefully next to a saurian plush toy on a small modest bed. Clearly just big enough to support the two. Anyone else joining him would have Paimon toppling out of bed. It’s a funny thought.
He’s forcefully put down on a chair not unlike how swept the other off his feet to fly.
Vereja looks on with an incredulous expression “To what pleasure do I get to be invited to your private dorm?” The Traveler rolls his eyes “Wait here.”
He scavenges his bag, clearly looking for something.
Vereja had to admit he was always curious as to how such a small bag could have the traveler basically shoving his entire upper body inside and still have so much depth in it? He doesn’t question it but he has a few theories on it.
The blonde gets out an assortment of bandages (with peculiar seals on them, interesting.) and a mysterious vial with shimmery gold liquid. He looks a little disappointed for whatever reason, putting them in a nearby drawer and supposedly looks for more.
Hm, not the first time he was injected with some sort of unknown substance. He wonders what he doesn’t have injected in his body, given how…Dottore is. “Don’t tell me you’re playing Doctor on me.” He jests but quickly shuts up when he sees the Traveler flinch.
“Don’t compare me to him.”
Clear hurt swirling in his eyes as Veraja faces, sitting on the bed. “Sorry.” Wanderer mumbled.
The Traveler takes a deep breath before removing his gloves. Veraja’s eyes closely follow the movement of rustling fabric and his bare hands.
They have a few nicks and scars, calloused from years of sword fighting and adventuring.
He follows those hands as they pop open the lid of the vial and let it ceremoniously fall into a bowl, it looks hand carved…
The liquid glitters as it slowly drips from the vial into the bowl, it seemed to be quite dense.
“You don’t have to waste your precious–”
“Shush! I’m…well– it's not like I'm low on supply of it anyways.”
Then the Traveler opens a different bottle- this one he knows, Anemo essence.
What on earth is he exactly doing?
To Vereja’s surprise the moment a single droplet of Anemo essence made contact with the gold it rippled to a near identical shade. Clearly there’s a reaction going on here but it’s way beyond his expertise.
The Traveler probably saw his clueless expression and finally provides some sort of explanation.
“It’s uhm. My blood I guess.”
Suddenly Veraja reaches out.
A conflicted look on his face
“What the hell?”
Surely they didn’t need to go that far? For his own sake? Sure Veraja might have to live with the damage Dottore did to him but that’s something he’s already doing. There’s clearly no need for the Traveler to … do all this at all. Especially since he was already there for him during his comatose period with the Dendro Lord.
All this worry only warrants an exasperated look on the Traveler’s face. One that clearly screams ‘let me help you, you stubborn buffoon’ which he might as well be true.
“Let me finish explaining first.” He notably doesn’t move Veraja’s hands from his arm, so he lets it stay there. The Traveler’s intentions are the last thing he’d ever question, but he’d like to soak in the warmth of his sunkissed arms. Again.
“It’s-It’s almost like Phlogisten but at the same time not?” He seems unsure, unable to find the words that honestly captures his being. “I think it's more like a catalyst, it can take on any essence of the Seven and-and…” His eyebrows furrow and he dons another frown, Veraja he mirrors his expression.
“I think if I just… add enough Anemo essence then … but that’s not the problem here. Haah, It’s if I have enough blood to give.” He sighs utterly discontent with himself as if he had any right to be.
This is far too much.
Way more than he could ever hope to ask for.
“Traveler. Viator.” He loathes to call him that, the same title that everyone knows. The same alias that everyone follows. To know his true name is an honour Veraja doesn’t have.
Despite Viator being the only man on the face of this planet to know of his true nature, his sins, his everything while he just knows so little of the other.
What cruel irony is that?
The identity- the name that Viator gifted to him near and dear to his nonexistent heart so much so he solely lets the bestower of the name to speak of it. He wants to know his name, he wants to say it, feel it on his lips like how the other does.
It drives him insane! To be teetering within the edges of close intimacy and oceans no worlds worth of distance…
“You can’t do this for me.”
He shouldn’t be.
The other huffs in his face. Veraja would think of it as straight up mocking his face if it wasn’t for the sincere concern and care in his actions. Taking the bowl and looking towards his back, he can feel his hand twitch at the lack of warmth. This time he refuses to hide it.
Veraja shudders. For absolutely no good reason at all.
He’s never been in this predicament.
Sue him for his flustering feelings when Viator puts those calloused hands and massage him. Slowly but surely his tensed muscles relax alongside his will to stop the Traveler.
He feels like a pile of goo. Melting away at the slightest touch. “There we go.” With a glance he can see a soft assured smile, “Can you please summon them?”
When he asks so nicely…who is Veraja to refuse?
His wing blades spur up, he winces when he sees it torn off. Edges sharp enough to prick skin, Veraja speaks up again. “Viator. Viator. Listen, this clearly doesn’t slow me down we don’t–”
“You talk too much.”
The Traveler chuckles.
Well atleast Veraja could say he tried.
He gasps when something cold, soothing drips onto his wing blade- right under his porcelain skin.
Veraja whips his head back to gawk. Focused the Traveler slowly molds his own blood to sculpt one of his missing wings. He feels breathless, utterly doomed. It almost feels like those fingers gently looping and twisting are raking through his own body.
A subtle but hefty stream of power flows directly into his core, letting out a small gasp, hands flying to clutch his own chest. It's not unwelcome in fact it’s so similar to his own power that it would’ve gone undetected.
The Traveler doesn’t comment on it, just continuing his work.
It's an undeniable piece of the Traveler. Right in his core.
Despite the cold and careful sculpting of his wind form all he feels is love.
How tantalizing it is to receive such direct and candid love from someone who could never reciprocate his feelings? He feels like laughing at the universe for making his entire life a joke while simultaneously glad he came so far.
After a few excruciatingly long minutes the blonde lets out a sigh of relief. And then a tsk of disappointment. “What’s wrong?”
He looks constipated and Veraja barks out a humorless laugh “I knew I didn’t have enough…”
Veraja summons the windform in front of him, his eyes widening at the stark gold mended to teal “Beautiful…” he murmurs. Viator definitely heard it though “I- well” and flushes.
Smugness blooms in his chest, at the very least he’s not the only one participating in this humiliation ritual, “Heh, about time you grasp your impudence.”
“That's not what I meant” The Traveler quips back “It's supposed to hold the Anemo essence… not stick out like a sore thumb. I just didn’t have enough…” He groans in frustration “How many times do I have to say it before it gets through your thick skull? You’ve given more than enough.”
He looks like he’d jump all across Teyvat to disprove that statement, Veraja is sure that he would. Of course he would, with his savior complex no matter how many pieces he gives others it’ll never be enough.
He flicks the Traveler’s forehead “Ow- What the hell did you do that for?!”
“It’s about time you go back to bed.” Viator opens his mouth for a retort “With Paimon.” Then close it.
There’s a pregnant pause between them before the Traveler finally speaks up, defeated. “I can’t sleep….”
“Why not?” Wanderer shifts over the blanket right where the sleeping beauty is, ready to tuck the other in. “Dottore-he- hm.”
Oh.
“He made me go through countless simulations of-of us defeating him or him killing all us– it’s too real I- keep questioning whether I was saved or this is one of his cruelest runs.”
There are tears in his eyes.
“But- you weren’t there in any of them, of course you weren’t he didn’t even know you existed. It was the only way I could tell, I-I know it’s real. I know I’m here but I…”
Slowly Veraja reaches out, taking the Traveler in his embrace. The Traveler takes a deep breath, but he can’t stop his sobs. Words babbling out- all the twisted and horrid realities The Doctor forced him into.
All Veraja could do was whisper false assurances that none of it is true, that the future isn’t set in stone.
Eventually the Traveler’s tears turn dry, slack against Veraja. Carefully he scoops him up and places him beside Paimon.
Who eagerly snuggles into him, he seems to calm down even more with her on his side.
As nice as this was, it was his cue to leave.
A calloused hand reaches out to him, interlocking their fingers “Stay…please.” In such a small and afraid voice…
Without wasting much time he removes his outerwear and cuddles right next to him. With Paimon slotted in the center.
The Traveler doesn’t shy away from the touch nuzzling himself close to the crook of his neck and wrapping his arms around his waist. Veraja does the same.
Sleep comes more easily than it should have.
Being near Viator is all it takes for sweet dreams to follow.