{Zhongchili} what doesn't kill me makes me stronger, right?

I pick my poison (and it's you)

Childe wakes up feeling the worst he ever has in his entire life.

The whole world seemed out of balance. Childe couldn't see straight. His throat was parched, and each breath he took felt like wind kicking up sand in the deserts of Sumeru. His hands shook violently, and his legs refused to move.

Every muscle in his body felt like they had been struck by lightning and then set on fire and struck by lightning again. His head was overloaded with turmoil, and it felt as if all his viscera were declaring war on each other.

This wasn't right. This shouldn't be happening. It had already been two days since that increased dosage of poison. It should have worn off by now, why wasn't it?

Childe was used to feeling like he was on death's doorstep —one look at his body told you everything— great scars littered his body and told tales of canyons carved into flesh and smoothed over by time.

But this. Never before had he felt so like he was being torn apart from the inside out.

What had he done? How did this happen?

He drank the poison and went to sleep. With how much of that he's been doing the past few days, he should be feeling right as rain. Sure, Zhongli came over and he had that scare thinking he was an assassin, but that was the only movement he had.

Wait.

Zhongli.

Zhongli was coming over today to check on him. Childe had agreed to it yesterday because he thought he'd be fine by now. But he wasn't. Zhongli was going to fuss over him and probably find out he's been poisoning himself. Childe couldn't let that happen.

He thinks of that worried look in Zhongli's eyes. Childe doesn't think he could bear it if he were to see Zhongli so distressed again. No, he had to at least pretend to be better, for Zhongli's sake.

It's not that Zhongli's never seen him in a weakened state before. After the whole raising Osial thing, Zhongli had found him with a basket of fruits. Childe had been rather tuckered out, with fighting the Traveler and raising an ancient sea god and all, but Zhongli had stayed by his side.

Childe remembered the look that came into his eyes when he told him about his Foul Legacy transformation. Childe decided he never wanted to see Zhongli so worried ever again.

Childe panics now. He tries to get up, only to scream in agony when all his muscles simultaneously hold him down. This is impossible. Childe is not getting better.

How did this happen?

Childe's mind screams in agony as he wracks his brain for answers. What did he do?

His stomach growls as all the beasts inside him go to war. He was starving –he hadn't eaten much the past few days– but he was immobile in his bed and couldn't even get up to make himself some food. Not that he had food to eat anyway.

Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to have Zhongli come over anyway. Childe wouldn't mind being coddled a bit in this condition. He frowned as his stomach growled.

When was the last time he'd eaten, anyway? Zhongli had made him tea, scolded him for his empty pantry. Childe frowned. He really hadn't done anything to warrant this. But then why did he feel like he was dying? It just didn't make sense. He'd been sleeping for two days, and hadn't eaten anything odd...

Childe's eyes shoot wide. No.

The only thing he'd had since the poison was Zhongli's tea. It had tasted so terrible, but Childe had drunk it all to appease the god. And normally, Child used his vision to test the liquids he drank, just to make sure there wasn't anything in it.