Chapter Text
In spite of Caitlyn’s lengthy and bothersome relationship with pain and its significant impact on her life, she doesn’t think she will ever get used to it. Not like Vi, who is as steadfast as she is stubborn in the face of another blow, another ripple through the system that reduces you down to the most basic of conditions. Flesh, nerves, sensation.
No, Caitlyn will never get used to it.
At first, she wholeheartedly believes that Marcus has made good on his promise and elected to shoot her, snuff her out with the pull of a spiteful trigger, silenced forever and laid in the same fashion as a now motionless Ekko. But as the first inklings of shock fade into painful awareness, Caitlyn begins to remember.
She is plunged down, as if a large hand has shoved her head down into the water below, and she flails in panic and disbelief.
The heavy smoke of an explosion still lingers in the air, soot polluting her lungs, swirls of dust that dissipate in a mocking display of cruelty. And there’s a lingering smell, of something acrid and coppery, like burnt wire and misery.
Bodies are strewn on the ground next to her, one, two, three… Caitlyn seals her eyes shut and stops counting after that. Even in darkness, her vision still swims with the aftermath of it. Flashes of green, like the distant memory of fireworks on a harmonious evening.
But there’s no tranquility here, only death.
A distressed groan slips out Caitlyn’s mouth as she struggles to rise from her sprawl on the ground, leg screaming in protest. Her hand flies down to the source of the pain, and it’s no surprise to her when it comes back stained with blood.
“Tell my…Tell my daughter I…”
The broken whisper is barely audible over the telltale racing of her heart as Caitlyn’s gaze snaps up to the source of it. She sucks in gulp after gulp of air, willing it to soothe her as she takes in the sorrowful man clinging to the last threads of life.
Marcus’s eyes are glazed over, probably swimming with visions of a place Caitlyn has yet to experience, has been spared of on a whim of mercy. Despite the understanding ringing heavy in her mind with every scorching breath, it does not feel like mercy.
Another streak of blood paints the wall behind the sheriff’s drooping head, seconds stretching out longer than they have any right to be.
Then, the moment passes. Caitlyn doesn’t need to check for a pulse to know.
Her heart leaps into her throat and she nearly cries out again when her vision gives a swinging swoon, accompanied by a punch of nausea so intense she feels it stab painfully behind her eyes.
She’s never held much sympathy for the man, especially in the light of recent events, but she can still feel her heart breaking for the life he has been forced to leave behind.
The sound of her name pierces through the air like a needle popping a balloon.
A flash of pink and red, haloed almost in the flickering beams of light and unyielding fog. Against any lingering sluggishness in her head, Caitlyn’s senses flare up with realization.
Vi skids to her knees in front of her, heart-wrenching guilt swimming in her open expression. Nothing, not even the horrific nature of the situation can distract Caitlyn from the undeniable truth. Vi is beautiful – messy and smudged and trembling in the harsh light. She wants to commit the sight to memory, every raw and riveting inch.
A quiet sob tears free from Caitlyn’s throat as Vi cups her hands around her flaming face. Blue eyes flit from the open wound on Caitlyn’s thigh back to striped pants, as if the reality of the bond is only now beginning to dawn on Vi.
Maybe it is, Caitlyn wonders. With everything Vi has been through, it is perhaps only natural for her to try and decipher whether something is real before she can trust it.
And in that moment, they not only share each other’s pain, but also trust. For all Caitlyn knows, she might be missing the sound of the entire bridge crashing down around them, she doesn’t care.
“Come on, cupcake,” Vi croaks once her eyes have cleared up a bit.
With another tug of comfortingly rough hands, she is yanked up from her twisted position on the ground, no hesitation in the way their fingers tangle together over where Caitlyn’s arm now rests atop Vi’s shoulder.
She lets her weight sag into the warm body next to her, knees still slightly wobbly.
“We should – “
Vi cuts herself off, choking on the next exhale. Caitlyn is about to give her seemingly used up voice a try and ask what’s going on when the steady shuffle of another pair of footsteps cause her to glance up, words crumbling to nothing but biting ash in her mouth.
Jinx is terrifying.
No more confused doubts of Powder linger in Caitlyn’s mind, any resemblance to the innocent girl on the mural having disappeared. Something akin to betrayal hangs down unevenly into the pale, livid specter of Jinx’s face as she stares the two of them down, same as the many barrels of a familiar machine gun.
It’s as though the ground shakes menacingly under their feet.
Before either of them has the opportunity to move, to let out another breath, a multitude of things happen all at once.
Gunfire pierces the air, forcing Caitlyn and Vi apart. Even as her grip unconsciously tightens around Vi’s hand, they are sent flying into opposite directions, separated by the frantic pull of a trigger.
Vi hectically scurries back over to the terrified lump Caitlyn is sure to resemble, an electric buzz sounding overhead, nearly sending their faltering bodies back to the ground in surprise.
Ekko.
Caitlyn can only make out the tightness in his shoulders, face hidden by the speed with which he barrels towards Jinx, but she doesn’t doubt for a second that there is enough rage in his expression to fuel the light of a thousand suns.
Him and Jinx collide in a flurry of limbs, almost too fast to perceive. There is no real struggle, only a shift, Ekko sliding back towards them in a well-executed motion that indicates how long he has already been fighting this battle.
The gemstone hits Caitlyn in the chest, nary a weight, but still enough to make her gasp.
“Go!” Ekko yells urgently, leaving no room for rebuttal.
Caitlyn peers at Vi. She looks absolutely torn, shadows of the past spinning in her gaze as she contemplates Ekko’s command. Eventually, she seems to come to the same conclusion as Caitlyn had the moment Jinx appeared. Neither of them is in the position to make a difference right now, not with the bond weighing down their veins with vivid, arctic blue.
Caitlyn recognizes the exact moment Vi makes her decision, the muscles in her neck straining against the weight of what it actually means to leave.
As they limp over anarchy and dead bodies, Caitlyn can still hear rough, embattled voices and lingering sounds of violence. She can hear Vi’s harsh breathing so close to her ear, can hear their quick, clumsy steps. She can smell the metallic tang of blood. She can feel the floor beneath her feet, feel the imaginary blade pushing against her neck.
They say nothing, the shared tightness in their chests conveying more than any words ever could.
Rapid-fire thoughts ping through Caitlyn’s mind like artillery, burning behind her eyes as she can’t stop asking herself one very simple question:
How did everything go so wrong so very quickly?
From Caitlyn’s perspective, there is only one place they can go, but the path there is tiring and distressing. Enforcers occupy the streets, the clinking of their uniforms around every corner prompting Caitlyn and Vi to take a much more convoluted route through Piltover, a city that has yet to become aware to the horrifying nature of tonight’s events.
The gemstone is gone, its absence leaving behind no more room for pretense. They are running out of time, with absolutely nothing to show in terms of evidence except for their word. Jayce might be open to hearing what they have to say, but the remainder of the Council is an entirely different story, even her mother.
By the time they finally reach the Kiramman estate, the sun has already begun its unwavering ascent into the horizon. Caitlyn is on the brink of unconsciousness, something that can be attributed to exhaustion and shock rather than the steady trickle of blood running down her thigh.
Vi has maintained a steady grip on her all throughout their small journey through Piltover, along with little gestures of touch meant to keep her awake.
“Come on,” Vi says now, squeezing Caitlyn’s hand in reassurance. “Stay with me.”
“Right here,” Caitlyn exhales, leading them to a forgotten little corner near the back of the premises. She tugs a piece of well-cared for hedge to the side, revealing a gap in the surrounding metal fence.
“Huh. Not your first time sneaking around, is it?” Vi’s mouth curls into a tired smile, but it is dulled by fatigue.
Caitlyn only rolls her eyes in response, and drops down to her knees to crawl through the small space. Her leg gives a hiss of protest, Vi’s voice ringing out behind her.
“Hey, be careful with that.”
“I’m trying,” Caitlyn snaps, gritting her teeth against the strain.
“Rude.”
“Shut up.”
Her bedroom window beckons once both of them are situated on the other side of the fence, and it takes Caitlyn an exorbitant amount of willpower to not just let go and fall asleep on the soft, tempting grass below.
“Who lives here? Vi asks after hefting Caitlyn up over the ledge.
The room is still exactly as she has left it behind, a mess. Pictures and files are laid out on the ground, clothes strewn haphazardly into every corner. The flowers she’s received after the explosion are in dire need of water, petals and leaves tilted in discolored distress.
The door bangs open, almost flying off its hinges.
Shit, Caitlyn thinks once she’s met with the sight of a cocked gun and her mother’s pursed lips.
Vi is lazily draped across the made-up bed when Caitlyn returns, legs stretched out on the ground as she takes in the chaos that started this whole predicament in the first place. Her head flies up as the door creaks open, hands flying down to the hallucinatory pain in her thigh, the suddenness of the movement indicating that it’s more instinct than clear-minded purpose.
Caitlyn leans back, feels the raised patterns of the door against her tense shoulders.
Vi frowns, feet bumping against the bedframe. “Did your parents operate on you without any anesthesia as a punishment?”
A surprised huff escapes Caitlyn as she limps over to Vi. The sheets are soft and comfortable, providing some much-needed comfort for her weary limbs as she plops down onto the bed. “Apparently, I’m too old to have my favorite toys taken away.”
Vi’s eyes hover over the fresh stitches on Caitlyn’s thigh. She swallows. “So, what now?”
“We’ll present our case to the Council tonight.”
“Hmm.”
Something is off about Vi, about her voice and the way she won’t meet Caitlyn’s eye, that usual devil-may-care attitude suspiciously absent.
“What is it, Vi?”
Vi’s gaze drops even further, turning introspective. It’s almost fascinating to Caitlyn, the way she can almost watch each thought pass over Vi’s expression before she settles on a response.
“Your parents, do they know?”
The question hits Caitlyn like a hammer to the chest. “I didn’t tell them, if that’s what you’re asking,” she says, a little out of breath. “But it’s safe to assume that they have their suspicions. Does it matter?”
“I don’t know.”
But it does. Caitlyn can see the insecurity running up and down Vi’s spine, the implication that if her parents have found out, so will the Council. That their mission to bring down Silco and his whole operation might be undermined by the connection they share.
“We just have to try,” Caitlyn says in response to those unsaid words. Carefully, she places her hand on Vi’s knee, the warmth of her going a little way to melting the ice in her veins. When some of the tension eases under her palm, she knows that it was the right move.
There is stone silence between them for what feels like centuries, so long that Caitlyn’s eyes threaten to slip closed multiple times.
When Vi speaks up eventually, her eyes are glued to the scattered investigation on the ground. “You did all this yourself? Without even going down there?”
“It kept me occupied.”
“Why do you do it?” Vi asks, eyes drilling into her, ice blue and alight with interest
“Do what?” Caitlyn finally gives in to the urge to lay down, head pillowed against the soft mattress as she stares up at the canopy of the bed.
She is surprised when Vi follows moment later, lowering herself onto her back next to Caitlyn. They lay side by side, not touching, just sharing space. The vibrant pink of Vi’s hair fanned out against the bland sheets almost causes Caitlyn’s next breath to get stuck in her throat.
“Why involve yourself in a situation you have nothing to do with? Put yourself in danger like that when you don’t even know if it’s going to pay off?”
The moment stretches out until Caitlyn comes back from the swirling, shifting maze of her thoughts. “Someone once told me that being able to protect people is enough of a reward,” she says with a shrug. “I guess that’s part of the reason why.”
Vi snorts. “That’s painfully heroic. And stupid.”
“Perhaps. It’s still better than doing nothing.”
Vi is watching with her with wide eyes, filling their shine with curiosity and even more questions simmering below the surface. Caitlyn takes in the color of them, how they’ve lightened toward the middle to an almost silvery grey.
“And I thought Powder could get obsessed,” Vi whispers into the small, remaining space between them.
Caitlyn forces air in through her nose and down her lungs. “What happened to her, it’s not your fault,” she says, tries not to let her voice hang heavy with sympathy. She knows that Vi wouldn’t much care for it.
Vi turns slightly, shutting her eyes against the notion of what could have been. “When my parents were still alive… me and Powder used to share a bed like this. Except, maybe, half the size.”
Caitlyn couldn’t have interrupted now if she tried, can’t find the breath. All of the dead, robotic tone in Vi’s tone is gone, replaced with a grittiness of barely contained emotion as she tells Caitlyn about her sister and how cruelly life had decided to tear them apart.
It’s strange, to have the walls between them collapse so suddenly. Caitlyn registers distantly that the link is curling and intertwining tighter from Vi’s side, some of the resistance giving out. She lets the feeling wash over her, takes as much as she can while it lasts.
Body yearning for more, Caitlyn reaches out tenderly, lets her fingers run over Vi’s cheek in a gentle caress. It feels different from all of the other times they’ve touched, more intimate, as though the closeness has the power to shelter them from the raging storm outside.
When Vi peers up at Caitlyn, hand rising up the keep the contact alive, the heaviness of the last few seconds taper off into something soft and sweet. Vi’s eyes are wide and wet in the glow that dances around them, and for once, they are not haunted. They are full and bright and yearning.
She can’t feel the pain in her chest, now. She can’t feel any pain at all. Only Vi.
Caitlyn stirs when the sound of running water reaches her ears. She yawns and blinks her eyes open slowly, realizes that the late afternoon is about to give way to the impending darkness. It’s a soothing moment, peaceful, and Caitlyn is content to let it embrace her for as long as possible.
When her leg throbs and reminds her that life is anything but peaceful, the moment is well and truly shattered.
The door to her bathroom swings open. Vi steps out, absentmindedly rubbing her hair dry with one of Caitlyn’s towels, setting her tired mind absolutely ablaze. There’s a wet stain on Vi’s shirt where she has supposedly tried to scrub away the evidence of her earlier injury.
Caitlyn inhales, but it’s like the air around her simply won’t cooperate, causing her to choke on a missed breath.
Everything would be so much easier if Caitlyn could only want Vi for her body. She’s had crushes before, but the attraction to Vi has smacked her right in her impressionable young heart like no other girl ever before. The strength to her build, the curves of her well-cared for muscles, the contrary softness of her otherwise hard features. It has burned right through Caitlyn, has managed to become a distraction even in the face of chaos and death.
Vi’s eyebrows shoot up into her damp fringe, the hint of a curious smile curling around her mouth.
“What?”
Caitlyn’s first instinct is to break eye contact, embarrassed at having been caught in the act of gawking at her. But she doesn’t. She holds Vi’s gaze, wanting nothing more than for reality to disappear so they can be well and truly alone. Not even for anything physical, really. She just wishes that she could be by Vi’s side a little while longer, to gain another glimpse of that lopsided little smile that always seems so hard-won.
“Are you having a stroke or something?” The teasing tone of Vi’s voice brings Caitlyn back from the swirling mess of her thoughts.
She clears her throat, “You, uh, took a shower?”
“Yep,” Vi says, popping the p. “Amazing water pressure, by the way.”
“I’m glad it was to your liking.”
Like so many things between them, it feels so outrageously ridiculous, such a stupid thing to say. But Vi isn’t laughing or anything, she is watching Caitlyn with hawk-like intensity. The tension only becomes more high-strung when Vi shifts a little closer to where Caitlyn is still perched on the bed.
Any distraction she might have felt a moment ago is snuffed out, her focus redirected to the uneasiness of what this night might bring. Her skin doesn’t feel right all of a sudden. Like it’s too tight, crawling with the strangest, unwelcome chill.
“Tell me that this is going to work.”
“It’s going to work.”
Had she known how wrong she was in that assumption, Caitlyn would have bundled Vi up in her arms and locked the two of them in her room for eternity.
Maybe somehow, some impossible-seeming way, she should have been ready for this. Maybe this is how it was always going to end.
Caitlyn follows Vi into the pelting rain, a depressingly fitting environment for the matching thunderclouds in those steely eyes. Her head is still reeling with the intensity of the audience, bitter disappointment wrenching its way between her ribs.
“Vi! Wait!” she yells, chills wrecking her body through the soaked material of a new, pressed uniform. “Wait! Where are you going?”
“I don’t know. Back where I came from? Seems like that’s what everyone up here wants.”
“I don’t! I can fix this!”
“You can’t,” Vi barks, circling back around in a whirlwind of raindrops, causing Caitlyn to halt in her steps and almost skidder on the marble walkway. “This is how things are. How they’ve always been. I was so stupid to think it could change.”
Her tone has that dulled, deadened tone to it that Caitlyn has come to known in the past day. A frigid drop, unfurling something heavy in the pit of her stomach.
“There must be something else we can do. Some other way. We’ll make a new plan. We have to try.”
“We tried, okay? It wasn’t enough. Topside and bottom. Oil and water. That’s all there is.”
“So what now?” Caitlyn rasps, because apparently, they are back to this. Back to waiting games and questions that seem to go in circles and endless figures of eight.
“I don’t know, okay!?” Vi booms, raking a hand over her dripping face.
“Listen,” Caitlyn says, brows furrowing as she scrambles for the right words. “We can’t just give up. There is so much more riding on this.”
Vi’s eyes narrow. “You don’t get it! You can’t talk your way out of this with useless optimism. It’s on the back of everybody down there, not you and your upper-class buddies. And you expect me to sit up here and twiddle my fucking thumbs?”
“It’s not useless, it’s – “
“And you believe that?” Vi cuts in coldly before Caitlyn can even begin to try and explain her reasoning.
“Yes,” she breathes hotly.
Vi’s shoulders deflate, all of the anger leaving disappearing with a single breath, leaving behind nothing but heartache. Caitlyn is at a loss for which is worse.
This isn’t one of those times where Vi isn’t ready to tell her something, and Caitlyn can just wait for her to come around. This is Vi laying everything out, telling her right here and now that she’s already made her mind up. And that she has made her mind up to go alone.
“What about us?” Caitlyn moves in closer, slipping into Vi’s space, and the air burns around them. It’s hot and thick with tension sparking in their eyes as they stand off, one towering, the other trembling.
Vi huffs out a breath through her nose and casts her eyes upward as if whatever she’s about to say is pure torture to push through her lips. “Oil and water. Wasn’t meant to be.”
“You’re just saying that,” Caitlyn whispers around the lump in her throat.
She reaches out for Vi’s hand, to restrain her from leaving with physical force if that’s what it’s going to take, but Vi is quick on the uptake and swerves out of the way before Caitlyn has even raised her am. The rejection smolders heavily.
“Vi!” Caitlyn yells, voice cutting through the deafening rain. Beneath the sorrow hammering away at her resolve, a good amount of anger has managed to slip through. “So you finally gave up on trying to convince yourself, huh? What happened to together?”
Caitlyn grits her teeth against the burning in the back of her throat. It makes her want to shout again, to answer the question herself. What the hell has happened indeed.
“Do yourself a favor, Cupcake. Go back to that big, shiny house of yours and just… forget me, okay?” The term of endearment is empty, leaving behind no question as to the meaning.
It’s as though Caitlyn is a stranger and Vi can’t bear to look at her a moment longer.
Everything is rain and wind, a surrender to gravity as Vi’s retreating back flashes before her wide, terrified eyes.
When Caitlyn returns home, limping and soaked, she can’t even feel her heart anymore. She is sure wherever it has gone, it’s shattering.
Her father races over once her shuffling footsteps reach his ears, eyes widening in horror at the picture of despair she paints in the extravagant drawing room. He pulls her into an armchair next to the fireplace, and drapes a blanket over her shoulders.
Caitlyn doesn’t need to tell him what happened in order for him to understand.
They sit in silence at first, and when her father finally speaks, it’s not at all what Caitlyn might have expected.
“Perhaps it is better this way. There are plenty of people who manage to live a happy, fulfilled life without a soulmate by their side.”
Something inside of Caitlyn snaps.
“How dare you?” she hisses, shaking the blanket off her shoulders. Her father’s expression shifts into one of absolute shock at the iciness of her voice.
It’s the first time Caitlyn can remember feel something like genuine anger and perhaps even disgust unfurling against him.
“Caitlyn,” he chastises, the feigned calmness in his tone a complete contradiction to the upset tilt of his brows.
“No!” She flies up from her seat on the chair, the fresh stitches in her leg protesting against the sudden movement. “It was you,” she accuses, summoning every bit of her anger and bitterness to the surface. It fuels the next steps she takes as she shuffled forward. “You told me that everyone is alike and deserves a fair chance, but in reality, you meant everyone who is like us.”
“We are trying to protect you.”
“I don’t need you to protect me, I need you to support me!” Caitlyn halts her frustrated pacing, fists clenching tightly enough for half-moon shaped indents to appear on the palm of her hand. “I’m tired of everybody telling me what’s good for me!”
She recognizes how frayed her voice sounds, hysteric almost, but there is nothing left in Caitlyn that might care about her losing her composure like this.
Her father’s lips press together in silence, condemnation hanging heavy in the air.
“This is the way things are,” he says quietly, pointedly refusing to meet her gaze. Vi’s earlier words ring heavy in her ears. “One day, you will understand.”
“I will never understand.” Caitlyn shakes her head, a strand of damp hair hitting her in the face with the force of it. “I’m not like you. All this time, you were just refusing to see it.”
It’s as though she’s been pushed right to the edge, a strange sort of limbo that invades her vision with unbidden images.
The way Vi had looked earlier that day, and how everything had changed by the time they’d stood in front of the council – how she went from being lit with that glowing halo of content straight to closing right off, as if somebody had reached into her chest and crushed whatever semblance of hope had been left. How she became jumpy and evasive, mixing her signals and saying things that had crushed Caitlyn’s chest in very much the same way.
That there’s no faith, no expectations, no promises. Just forget about me. Oil and water.
Well, fuck that.
Caitlyn feels incarnate of something, a force that urges her to finish this. The jump over the chasm that now separates her and Vi is merely a step.