Chapter Text
Green mists curled at his feet as Viktor traversed through the streets of the Lanes. So much has changed since he was a child. The rusted and worn buildings were twisted, the air more foul with subtle notes of Shimmer, and even the people seemed more....decayed. He didn't know if it was the increasing tension between Piltover and Zaun or the way Shimmer had flooded the streets, but residents seemed more monstrous, and something closer to nightmares. Viktor sighed.
"And so the myth becomes the truth." He mutters, well aware that any member of Piltover would speak of bogeymen and beasts when they saw these streets with biased eyes. They don't realize how much of this is their fault.
The inventor turns a corner and sees an empty street ahead of him. Unusual, considering the population, and probably against his best interests but this is the only path to get to his supplier. His grip on his crutch tightens and the other hand digs into his worn coat for a knife. His co-conspirator Jayce only knew of one pawn broker years ago, and with his increasing councilor duties, Viktor insisted he should be the one to retrieve parts of equipment.
Plus, he knows how to haggle.
Cobblestone echoes the rhythmic taps of his crutch as he walks. Keeping an eye out, Viktor makes himself small, hunched and portraying a false sense of vulnerability. If anyone wants to come after him, they would be in for a surprise. Everyone had to learn to fight in the undercity. Viktor's talent was lying in the shadows, but in a pinch, he could nick an artery or two.
The pawnshop he's looking for finally comes into view, when a hand grabs at his shoulder. The inventor whirls around, his hand brandishing the knife, but the crutch catches onto a raised stone and his view turns diagonal as Viktor's balance gets thrown off. Shit.
But he doesn't meet the ground. Fingers dig into his brace, in turn his ribcage, while another hand struggles to grasp at his shoulder.
"Shit! Viktor, I didn't mean to startle you." With awkward fumbling, he turns and sees Jayce Talis, the Golden Boy of Piltover. Viktor regains his balance, knife still in hand, and through the fumes stares at Jayce.
"You have a meeting with Councilor Medarda today, do you not?" He tries to keep his tone cool and even, despite his heartbeat thumping hard and fast. Viktor specifically chose this day to go to avoid seeing Jayce. To avoid seeing the fluttering eyelashes of Councilor Medarda that makes his throat tighten. To avoid seeing how his partner reciprocated her featherlike touches on his arms, while Viktor would be in the background, practically uninvited to their private musings in public. It was fine when they hardly knew each other, but in recent months the flirting was becoming intolerable. He had started to covet his coworker's company. Their invigorating discussions becoming more fleeting as Jayce is herald as the face of Hextech, and Viktor still a cripple from the Undercity.
Jayce bobs his head a bit, a habit he picked up from Viktor.
"It was over the financial costs for producindg private transporters, something that I figured could wait. Nothing Sky couldn't handle in our place" Unexpected. What reason would the Man of Progress have to choose Viktor over Councilor Medara?
Jayce coughs into his arm, his eyes watering, and smiles blearily at Viktor. He left without a ventilator, that's an amateur move. "Where to? You said you wanted to pick up some parts for a new project."
"It's just down the path." Why did you come after me? With the blockade, Viktor had assumed Jayce would never come down here. "I needed to focus on something else." He puts the knife back into his pocket and gestures to the shop ahead. Leading the way, Viktor continues to keep an eye out. With Jayce here, the gold and scarlet jacket is a blinding sign for them to get attacked.
Sometimes it's a curse to be right.
Stepping into the fractured glow of the streetlights, two men close in on them. They circle, one tall and gangly while the other stout with a twitch in their movements.
"Well, well, a topsider here in the Underground? What an honor." The shorter one bows mockingly, his hands brandishing bent pipes over his knuckles. Their companion is silent, eyes observing the inventors. "Must be nice to live in Northside, all the luxuries anyone could ask for. Surely you could spare a taste?" Viktor reaches for his knife again and to the best of his ability stands straight as he hands Jayce his crutch.
"Viktor.."
"You came into the Lanes without a way to defend yourself, take it." He hisses, how could this man be so careless. His partner shakes his head and glares at the first thug.
"You only want a taste, right?"
"Just a bit to get through the day, brighten up our lives in this city." The man's smile widens and he puffs his chest out, while his friend closes in behind Jayce, encroaching upon his space. Jayce slowly steps toward the stout man, and reaches into his jacket. Did he come prepared, after all? And tosses a small coin purse to the ground in front of the thug. Oh.
"Take this. We don't want trouble, buy yourself a new life, maybe."
"Oh ho ho, we will, don't you worry." The man bends down to pick the purse. "Starting with your nice duds." He charges forward, purse neglected, and draws back to land a punch into Jayce's gut. The man of Piltover winces, but still holds his ground. The thug's eyes go wide as he sees Jayce's face pull into a frown.
"What a shame." Before Viktor can move out of the way, Jayce grabs the thug by his legs and shoulders; hefting him up above his back and tosses the man effortlessly into his companion. They crumple to the ground, cursing as limbs flail and tangle. Jayce turns and scoops up the coin purse, and lifts Viktor. It's indelicate and the way Viktor is tossed over his shoulder causes the knife to slice through the jacket and his crutch thump against Jayce's back as he attempts to run. He ducks into an alleyway and shoves over some heaps of mechanical scrap. Viktor can hear the thugs shouting, but it fades rapidly, while Jayce's panting fills his ears. The Zaunite can feel every breath, the way his partner's bicep is taught and secure around his midsection, and he attempts to get out of this grip.
"Jayce." He calls to the man, but to no avail, just more heavy breathing and uneven footsteps as his friend tries to navigate the messy alleys. "Jayce! They didn't pursue, stop running!" Wriggling under the arm, Viktor throws them off balance and the men fall backwards.
Coughing violently, Jayce picks up the crutch nearby and limps to his partner. "What the hell, Viktor? They were going to mug us!"
"An outcome that would not have happened if you did not try to follow me to the Lanes. Did it never occur to you that someone from topside with a gilded suit wouldn't garner notice?"
"I-I was trying to make sure you were alright!"
"By what, leading danger to me like a strobe light?" He's angry, a day to mope to himself has been ruined by the very person he didn't want to think about, who just endangered them both. "Testing to see if the undercity really is as dangerous as you've claimed?"
Jayce winces. That hit a nerve , Viktor notes. The thinner man adjusted his leg brace, hitting loose screws back into place and with a groan flexes his leg before standing. There was no point in sending him back, Jayce wouldn't be able to find his way back on his own. He snatches the crutch from Jayce's hands and walks past the man, fighting the urge to look at him, but then stops.
"Come on, we need to get back to the lab before nightfall." He can hear the other's footsteps hurry behind him, a hand reaches out to his back, but before it settles, Jayce draws it back.
"Viktor, I'm sorry." His voice is quiet, and when Viktor looks back, he sees Jayce's whole form sag. He wants to be mad at Jayce, he wants to yell more about how the last few weeks have been stressful to watch. To be further isolated in the one space he belonged. Even confiding in Sky hadn't helped him release pent up emotions. However, it's rare to see his best friend so small. So resigned. The last time he had seen Jayce look this defeated was when he was about to... to…
Viktor turns and tentatively touches Jayce's leather clad wrist. The touch seems to give hope to his partner, and Jayce's head lifts up, uncertainty on his face.
"Why are you here? You never come to the Undercity." Viktor says more to himself and he traces the way the used crystal lays in the leather. The very crystal that brought them together, brought their dream to reality. And now, their progress has driven them further apart.
"Sky said you went out to gather parts, but we have all of the equipment needed, I-I was worried that you would be hurt if you came here."
"Jayce, I'm from the Underci--"
"I know!" He shouts, and then halts, taken aback by his own outburst. He wipes his hand over his face and sighs in frustration. "I know, but you haven't lived here in years and after you collapsed..."
Viktor raises an eyebrow. "I may be dying, but I am not delicate. These streets are my home--"
"Were your home."
"Am I not allowed to finish my sentences?" A pause. "As I was saying, these streets are my home, I know how to blend in. How to be invisible." Even when I didn't want to be. "I was confident that my trip would be complete before you would even notice my absence." His voice roughens at the end of his statement, bitter that someday Jayce won't notice him anymore.
A shout in the distance pulls their attention back to their surroundings. The Zaunite's hand moves from Jayce's wrist to his shoulder. "Come, we can't stay here much longer." Jayce nods and they make their way to Piltover.