Look Me in the Eyes (and tell me that it's me) [Zhongchili]

Chapter 39 - Implications

They arrive at Zhongli's apartment. Zhongli helps Ajax (and his luggage) up the stairs to the front door and lets them in, doing so with a remarkable lack of further complaint for Ajax's prior actions and his subsequent current condition. However, Ajax does note how Zhongli never quite releases contact between them, always keeping a hand, a shoulder, or a foot touching subtly, as though Zhongli fears Ajax might disappear should he let go.

Ajax tries not to feel that twinge of guilt as Zhongli helps him inside, an arm looped under his shoulders to relieve pressure from his ankle before finally setting him down on the sofa.

"I will make us some tea," Zhongli says. Then, with an almost indistinguishable twitch of his nose he adds, "And perhaps a bath?"

It's the first thing that he's said since their exchange in the car, and Ajax can't help but snort. "Alright, I get the message. Bath first, and you can do your magic healing thing on my foot while we're at it."

"It is not—"

"Magic. Right. Adeptus-god healing stuff then. Same thing."

Zhongli opens his mouth, then closes it again. He takes a long breath, his lips pinched together. "Very well."

It's not long before there's a bath full of warm, bubbling water that smells like something that Mother would use, and Ajax is climbing awkwardly into it, manoeuvring around his aching ankle. He sinks into the water's embrace, leaning his head back onto the porcelain and closing his eyes, allowing all the dirt and grime of the day to shed away like a second skin, leaving him cleansed anew. He's free. He's truly free, the Fatui left far behind him where they belong.

"Soap?"

Ajax cracks an eye open to see Zhongli holding out a bottle of pearlescent, white liquid.

Right. Washing. He should get on that.

"Thanks." He takes it and adds a dollop to his hand before massaging it through his hair. It's heaven against his scalp, cool and soothing, and he sinks back with a long sigh as he lifts his leg onto the bath's edge. "Care to fix my foot up now?"

Zhongli does just that, wrapping his hands around Ajax's ankle. The light pressure creates a sudden twinge of pain, but then golden light spreads from Zhongli's palms, seeping through Ajax's ankle and soothing the pulsing ache to a stubborn stiffness. Zhongli remains uncharacteristically quiet as he works, a furrow in his brow betraying a sea of internal throughs that Ajax can only guess at the depth of.

However, he can hazard a guess at the topic.

"He didn't come back, did he? That was the last time we..."

Zhongli freezes, the glow fading from his hands, and he lowers Ajax's foot slowly back into the water, gaze fixed upon the ripples expanding across the surface. "Yes, that was the last time we— I mean to say, he and I—"

"You can say us," Ajax cuts in. "I mean, he is me, right? And I am him. You're not wrong."

"Is that how you see it?" Zhongli asks carefully.

"Yeah. I mean, it doesn't bother me any more. So you can say it if you like." Ajax shrugs. All this him versus Tartaglia stuff is too confusing, the boundaries between them having blurred, like the once distinct colours of a child's finger painting, smudged together to form a murky brown centre. Ajax, Tartaglia—it doesn't matter. A few factors different, and their decisions would have mirrored perfectly. If he hadn't found Nikolai, if Volkov's daughter hadn't called, if Zhongli hadn't picked up his call, he might have followed the same path.

"I think," says Zhongli with a smile, "that I shall stick with Ajax."

"Ajax it is then." Ajax reaches forwards to take Zhongli's hand, pulling it close to his chest. "And I'm sorry. I really made things rough for you, huh? Well, both of us did."