Chapter Text
Vi doesn’t plan on taking Caitlyn’s hand when they walk home. She had caught the looks thrown their way—Piltover clothes clearly don’t hide the Undercity well enough on her. Caitlyn has so much going on, Vi doesn’t want her to contend with gossips who have exactly nothing going on.
But Caitlyn takes her hand. Doesn’t just take her hand, links her arm through Vi’s and intertwines their fingers. Leans up against Vi. Between the suit and the pose, Vi is struck with the feeling that her younger self may have actually vomited at how twee the two of them looked.
Vi likes it though. They walk together, and Caitlyn wears a small smile the whole time. It’s the longest Vi’s seen her smile the entire few-dozen hours they’ve known each other. Vi wants more.
When they arrive at the Medarda residence, Caitlyn lets go of Vi’s arm and smoothes down her vest. “Today was nice,” Caitlyn says softly. Her hands hesitate on Vi’s waist. “But…”
“Those files,” Vi says. Caitlyn’s face scrunches up.
“Among other things, I’m sure. I have so little idea what Mel and Jayce are actually planning. As soon as they tell me what’s going on, I want to help as much as I can. I need to.”
Something clicks for Vi. “I’ll let Mel know that,” she says.
“If she doesn’t budge, try Jayce,” Caitlyn says. “He breaks easy. As you’ve already figured out.”
Vi laughs. “I think they’ll all want your help, Cupcake. Your conspiracy rug probably still has some useful tidbits.” Before Caitlyn can scowl at her, Vi kisses her. Caitlyn sighs and wraps an arm around the small of her back. When Vi pulls away, Caitlyn is smiling again.
“Need me to walk you home?” Vi asks, only half joking.
“I know the way. Want me to walk you to the door?”
Vi laughs and kisses her again. “Good night, Cupcake.”
“Good night, Vi.”
Inside the Medarda house, the only room with lights on is Viktor’s office. Vi raps her knuckles on the door. There’s pause and then, “Jayce?”
“It’s Vi,” she calls back. “I’m just looking for Mel. Is she around?”
There’s a longer pause. Finally, Mel opens the door. Her normally impeccable hair is a little frizzed, and her dress is slightly rumpled. His back still to them, his vest hanging over his chair, Viktor hunches at a desk piled high with books. Some of them are scattered around a soft armchair where Mel’s shawl rests. Vi can’t tell if they’ve hooked up, have been cooped up in this room reading all day, or both.
“Is everything alright?” Mel asks.
“Yeah, yeah. Just wanted to talk to you for a minute about the stuff you left me.”
Leaving it that vague means there is no reason they can’t have this conversation in front of Viktor. But Mel simply looks at her, then nods.
“I need to get some fresh air,” she says. “Would you mind walking with me to the courtyard?”
“After I finish this section,” Viktor says, still not turning around.
“I was talking to Vi. But yes, you should take a break at some point. At the end of that chapter. I know you’re trying to worm your way out of commitment by not defining the parameters of a ‘section.’”
Viktor just hums. Mel rolls her eyes and shuts the door behind her as she leaves.
When they step outside, Mel lets out a long breath. Vi imagines that whatever happened in that office, Mel had in fact not left it all day.
The courtyard is raised, above most of the meager pollution Piltover sits in. Mel leans over a giant filigree lantern in the center and lights it. She illuminates low sofas piled with embroidered pillows, a bucket of emptied lobster and spilled wine from some forgotten feast. Leafy, impossibly green plants and trees obscure most of the space from outside view. Vi makes a mental note to explore Mel’s house more.
Leaned up against one of the columns is a massive painting. Vi can make out red sails and some docks, but gold clouds float over them. The first layer of paint is soft and precise, the second layer is bold and blunt. Vi tries to place the feeling it evokes.
“Normally I just throw away the pieces I give up on, but that one was especially frustrating.”
It takes a minute for Vi to parse what she means, and she’s still not quite sure—it looks finished to her? But Vi thinks she’s deduced that, “You made this?”
“Ah.” Mel waves a hand. Vi is shocked to discover that Mel Medarda, the smoothest operator she’s encountered, is in fact capable of being awkward. “It’s ah—technically, I was proud of it, but I no longer wanted to see it through.”
Studying the painting, Vi can suddenly recall a similar painting leaning on one of Viktor’s bookshelves. “I dunno,” Vi says. “I like the style.”
Mel laughs—not modestly, but like Vi has just attempted a joke. “In any case, I don’t think you’re concerned about my art,” she says.
“No.” Vi clears her throat. “So, Caitlyn wants to do something here. Something to help with—everything that’s going on. I’ve been running stuff by her, but I was hoping you could…”
“Give her something to do” sounds far too patronizing for what Vi means. While Vi tries to search for better phrasing, Mel sits down on a loveseat and steeples her fingers.
“I’m not sure how to approach that,” Mel says.
“Do you think you’re protecting Caitlyn by keeping her in the dark?” Vi asks. Mel looks up quickly. “Because even if I can’t talk you out of that—it’s not going to work. The last time someone tried to protect Caitlyn by sidelining her, she ended up running around the Undercity with a convict.”
Mel laughs a little. “Jayce made the same point,” she says.
“He’s learning.”
“He’s brilliant,” Mel says, not an ounce of irony in her voice. Vi can’t argue with that sincerity. She sits on a pouf on the tiled floor, across from Mel.
“So are you going to bring Caitlyn on?” Vi asks. “She’s brilliant too. She solved the Silco case on her own.”
“With your help.”
“She was the one with the giant conspiracy map.” Mel quirks an eyebrow but doesn’t ask. “Look, I’m not asking as charity. I’m asking because I don’t think she knows people protect her as much as they do. And I don’t think she’s wrong to get mad when she gets a glimpse of that. We’re all going through hell right now, but we’re still fighting. Caitlyn should be fighting too.”
Mel is silent for a long time. Vi is brainstorming a new argument when she finally speaks.
“I tend to take the large view,” Mel says. “It’s how I was raised, you know.” The corner of her mouth raises in a sardonic smile. “When Noxus conquers, rules their conquered, there are incalculable factors to keep track of. If you get lost in the details, you’ll be blind, and then you’ll be dead. Look at the big picture. Care about people, not any one person.”
“Got it,” Vi says, without thought. The same automatic response she gave when Vander was telling her his war stories for the tenth time. But Mel frowns at her response.
“No, it’s terrible advice,” Mel says sharply. “I tried to apply it to Piltover. And look where it got me.”
“...on the Council? Where does your good advice get you?”
Mel makes an undignified, displeased noise. Vi laughs in spite of herself.
“It’s partially effective, I suppose,” she says. “I’m just very reflective on it quite recently being terrible. The situation in the Undercity. Before the missile.” Vi cocks her head and Mel elaborates. “When you look at trends in people, you only see patterns and numbers, not the potential of their humanity. You come up with a plan to help everyone that gets blown to bits by a Jinx.”
Vi’s breath catches. Mel stops. They watch each other, uncertain.
“Jinx is my sister,” Vi says finally. Mel blinks.
“Oh,” she says. “I’m…”
“Sorry,” hangs in the air, without a tone of voice to contextualize it as an apology for speaking out of turn, or apology for the reality of the situation.
“She went through hell too,” Vi says. “She was manipulated by Silco. And after he found out she knew I was alive, he injected her with shimmer. She’s not in control of herself. If I had just been able to be there, I could have saved her.”
Vi doesn’t know if Mel hears the doubt in her voice—Mel must hear the doubt in her voice—but Mel just looks sad and a little lost when she says, “I know you would have.”
The two of them sit in silence for a while. “We’re having a meeting to discuss our plan of action tomorrow,” Mel says eventually. “I’ll send a courier to the Kiramann residence inviting Caitlyn. You’re right. We need her help.” She meets Vi’s eyes. “Thank you for letting me know.”
Vi nods. The courtyard is beautiful, and the two of them remain sitting on plush pillows, the trash from an old dinner between them. Twilight has fully faded to stars and a waxing moon. Vi likes the clear sky and the cool, clean breezes that sweep through Piltover. But on nights like this she finds herself missing the firelights of the Lanes.
Two Weeks Later
In the early hours of the morning, the day of Cassandra Kiramann’s funeral, Caitlyn arrives at the Medarda mansion and Vi leads her to the Undercity.
Ekko is waiting for them at the pipes that overlook the river. He’s holding a candle and some paper, but first he hands Vi a sheet with writing on it. It’s an address.
“The Youngs are staying at a hostel in the Lanes,” Ekko tells her. “Their daughter went missing. They went to the Enforcers, but no one did shit. So they’re looking for her themselves down here.”
Vi looks at the address and swallows the lump in her throat. “She’s dead,” she says.
Ekko nods, unsurprised. He tears a blank strip of paper and hands it to her.
“We couldn’t always afford funerals, or we couldn’t always find the bodies,” Vi explains to Caitlyn. Ekko lights the candle. “So we think their names on the paper. Burn them, send them on their way.”
Ekko hands Caitlyn a sheet. Caitlyn nods and begins to rip it into many pieces.
“I know you’re going to have so many nobodies at that funeral,” Vi tells her. “I know you don’t owe them anything. So I wanted to give you a chance. I dunno. I’m sorry I couldn’t get your dad here.”
“It’s okay,” Caitlyn says softly. “We’ve been there for each other.” She hovers the paper over the candle’s flame. “Do I say the name, or…?”
Ekko and Vi glance at each other. It’s been a while since Vi’s had the opportunity for a funeral. “If you want,” Vi says.
Caitlyn nods and whispers, “Mom.” Vi doesn’t know the right thing to call her, so she just thinks about the woman with the rifle in Caitlyn’s bedroom door as she burns her strip of paper as well.
The ashes fall into the wind and disappear over the river. Ekko reaches to the candle and says, “Sky.”
“Sky Young,” Vi adds as she burns her piece, for Caitlyn’s benefit. Caitlyn echoes her.
“Mira,” Ekko says. Vi remembers the pink haired woman being added to the Firelights’ mural.
Caitlyn takes Vi’s hand. “Vander,” she says.
“Vander,” Vi says.
“Vander,” Ekko says.
The three of them run down the Lanes family. After the last dead body is wished to paper and burned away, Ekko tears another strip of paper and pauses. He looks at Vi.
For a moment, Ekko’s not the leader of the Firelights, the first thing that gave Vi hope when she returned to the Undercity, the man who makes her want to be better. For a moment, he’s Little Man and she’s like a big sister to him and he’s waiting to see what she does. Ekko’s given her so much. She owes him this.
If he needs her to be the one that finally admits that Powder isn’t gone, Powder is Jinx, that none of the three of them died, they just keep changing—Vi can give that to him.
Vi snuffs out the candle. The ashes are long since lost to the wind, and she and Caitlyn will need to get going soon if they want to get back Topside without any trouble. But the three of them sit and watch the river for a little while longer, just to put off saying good bye.