Work Text:
Crumbs
-by Drace Domino
Caitlyn may have lost her eye, but it was clear that Vi had lost so much more. Even as recently as a few weeks ago, it would’ve been difficult for Caitlyn to understand that - clouded by justifiable rage over the loss of her mother, pushed to the breaking point of her sanity and groomed by the praise of a tyrant. And perhaps if Jin--Powder, she still had to correct herself, perhaps if Powder had lived to see a new day, then there would still be difficult conversations to have. In the broad strokes, Zaun and Piltover coming to terms with one another in the wake of a cataclysmic event would read well in the history books, but personal stakes were a different matter. Caitlyn didn’t know if she’d ever be able to truly forgive what happened to her mother, but…it simply didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was that she finally, ironically, had more vision than ever before - and that she could keenly see the suffering that Vi was going through.
By that point, it had been nearly two weeks since Ambessa’s death and the disappearance of Viktor. Two weeks since Powder had sacrificed herself to save her big sister, and two weeks since Vi marched wounded into the courtyard, collapsed to her knees, and sobbed uncontrollably over the sight of losing her entire family in a single, fell stroke. The night it all happened, after making sure Vi’s wounds were tended to, Caitlyn brought her back to her personal home where the redhead had remained ever since. From the very first night Caitlyn tucked the surprisingly tender, fragile, aching thing into bed and gently kissed her forehead, she knew there was a decision she had to make.
She didn’t think she could ever bring herself to say something truly kind about Powder…and so she chose to say nothing at all, for as long as it took before Vi’s heartbreak dulled. And if it never did? That was fine, too - Caitlyn could ensure the other woman knew how deeply she loved her through actions and actions alone. Between that and her new life as a one-eyed sniper, she was learning well how to make due with only a part of herself.
That evening, the door to her home clicked quietly closed as Caitlyn slinked inside, fresh from her duties in overseeing Piltover’s reconstruction. Only two weeks in and progress had been significant, thanks in no small part to the hard work of residents of Zaun that were going above and beyond their own share in the efforts. Sevika in particular had proven to be a deceptively level-headed leader, though that much shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise considering she had outlasted the reigns of many lords of Zaun before her, and with each step secured more loyalties along the way. She was a fine representative for her people, and if Caitlyn hadn’t already felt guilty for how she waged war on their communities, it would’ve been enough to push her into the throes of guilt. As things stood, she already had enough weighing down on her shoulders, as evidenced by the tiny figure of Vi in the far corner of her living room, still in the same position Caitlyn had left her in the morning.
Vi laid on her side on the couch in Caitlyn’s lavish living room, dressed in loose-fitting clothes that covered her legs but allowed her remarkable arms to breathe free - for as much good as they were doing, constantly holding themselves around Vi’s body like she was trying to burrow within herself. By that point, her eyes opened and Caitlyn could spot the shine of her partner’s gaze, enough to compel her to immediately cross the living room to give her a soft greeting. Without saying a word, Caitlyn hung up her hat and jacket before making her way right towards Vi, smoothly falling into a kneeling position a mere few inches from the edge of the couch. Her critical, analytical eye quickly surveyed everything around her - she could tell enough to know that Vi had likely only left the couch minimally in the past ten hours, most likely twisting underneath a blanket that was draped across her withering frame. Another day of brooding, the poor thing. As Caitlyn knelt she stretched both hands outward, one of them to slink into the redhead’s short hair and smooth it back with a judiciously stroking thumb, and the other to tease her hand across one of Vi’s sculpted arms. The latter was more important - her digits carefully slinking along the lines of Vi’s muscles, pressing inward to gauge if her partner’s sedentary gloom was starting to effect her strength. There wasn’t any fighting left to do, but…she couldn’t help but ruminate that it would be tragic if Caitlyn came out of the other side of this nightmare unable to lift the woman that stood with her into her arms.
Finally, Caitlyn’s head dipped down and she pressed her lips to Vi’s forehead - softly, tenderly, letting her kiss linger for longer than it needed, perhaps even longer than it should. Her single eye drifted closed as she tried to feel for Vi’s reaction. A sharp inhale of breath, a noise of contentment, anything to give her some sign that Vi was still in there and could recognize her attentions…but as had been the case for weeks now, the only response she received was a jarring stillness. Oh well. Another evening of careful attention it was, then.
Once she was sure that Vi - at the absolute minimum - knew that she was home and was available if needed, Caitlyn turned her attention to the kitchen. Naturally, she had any number of chefs that were willing to put together a meal for the heroes of Piltover and Zaun, but Caitlyn had been so determined to ensure that her lover was treated peacefully that she insisted on doing everything herself. She wasn’t much of a cook, but it hardly mattered when her partner didn’t seem to be able to keep anything other than soup and water down. After toiling in the kitchen for a mere few minutes, Caitlyn returned to the living room holding a tray of food for them both - though in reality, it was little more than a few scraps of bread for herself, and yet another warm, thin beef broth for her love. She could always eat more substantial food while she was on the job, and certainly didn’t want Vi to feel self-conscious over her lack of appetite. Although…it would be nice to be given a clue that she felt anything right now.
From there, the evening went much the way it had for two weeks now. Vi’s body was limp as it stared ahead, not necessarily resisting, but still doing nothing to lift herself up as Caitlyn encouraged her into a sitting position. Lost deep behind her eyes, Vi didn’t even really acknowledge the meal as it was offered against her lips, with Caitlyn meticulously taking spoon after spoon of broth, blowing on it gently to ensure it was cool enough, and then slipping it into Vi’s mouth. Once there, she would pivot the spoon to dump the broth within, and wait for Vi to swallow. Sometimes, she simply didn’t, and it would take Caitlyn’s gentle encouragement in the form of fingers caressing down Vi’s throat in order for it to take place. And while the woman fed her lover - lovingly despite it taking nearly an hour - she couldn’t help but turn her attention to the rest of the room, looking at it and studying it with the same critical eye as before.
Vi had been moving while she was gone - she was sure of it. The glass of water she left her was not just empty, but on the other end of the coffee table. A corner of the carpet had been upturned, as if Vi’s stumbling footsteps had forced it up while she was heading to the bathroom. Even those signs of life struck Caitlyn as hopeful, but at the same time gnawed deep inside of her - pushing against her insecurities even while a trembling hand spooned Vi yet another mouthful of broth. Was it just her? Was the mere sight of the woman that had tried to kill Ji--Powder too much for Vi to bear? When Vi looked at her, did she still see the manic fury that gripped her in the underbelly of Zaun? The frantic sniper that looked through her scope and a haze of hatred in tandem? The woman that - while by no means the only fool in this whole ordeal - had only made everything worse with nearly every step of the way? While she kept spooning broth to Vi, she nearly lost herself in those worries. Was the redhead simply shutting down every time the door opened? Did Vi hate it here? Did Vi hate her?! Did--
Distraction came in the form of some of the broth striking her hand, and she quickly realized she’d spun so hard off the rails that she wasn’t feeding Vi anymore so much as slathering the broth across her chin. A curse nearly escaped Caitlyn’s lips as she overcorrected - wiping off Vi’s face while her other arm tightened around her shoulders, squeezing her ever-closer. She nestled her forehead to Vi’s temple and in a moment of her own glaring weakness, felt it all rush against her as if the force of every crime was pushed through her, filtered through her flesh and leaving nothing but sorrow in its passing. For the first time, a sound was shared between the two, but it tragically wasn’t that of a loving whisper or a carefree lover’s giggle. The strangled sound of a tiny sob, as Caitlyn cried against an unmoving, unresponsive Vi. A cupcake with smeared icing and tear-soaked wrapper, crumbling while the only person with a taste for it couldn’t even be bothered to realize.
Caitlyn had never felt so helpless.
***
Another day in, and Caitlyn was spiraling. The crushing weight of caring for Vi was starting to take its toll - combined with the responsibilities of helping to lead Piltover’s new direction, and processing her own grief over losing so many friends. That entire day she’d spent sitting in meetings with her eye distant and her fingers rubbing back and forth across the mug of a cup of coffee that had gone cold hours ago, only barely listening as city planners and ambassadors to Zaun spoke at length about all the changes that needed to happen in order to avoid another clash. On more than one occasion, one of her assistants had to gently elbow her to force her attention - but even when her eye was on someone, she still wasn’t listening. She was still back at home, failing to do something as simple as to spoon a mouthful of broth into her lover’s mouth. By the time the young woman began to stagger home that night, she found herself questioning deep within the pit of her stomach…just how long could she keep doing this?
As had been the case for the past two weeks, the front door slowly and quietly slid open, and Caitlyn slipped inside like a shadow that was ashamed to be cast. Vi was there once more in the same spot as morning - still ruminating, still stuck in a dark place, rewatching the sight of Powder descending into the abyss. As soon as Caitlyn saw her and realized that the redhead hadn’t found the path to some strange breakthrough during the day, her heart sank and she gave a deep, heavy sigh that resonated from a desperate place within her. Another night of this. Another night of losing herself in all of the mistakes she’d made.
What followed was her normal routine: setting her things aside and then approaching Vi on the couch, stroking her hair and giving her a tiny, mournful kiss on the forehead. When she walked towards the kitchen to begin making dinner, however, something caught her eye that gave her pause - and even the faintest flicker of light in the midst of her burdened darkness. That very morning, Caitlyn had stripped the snug-fitting shirt she slept in away from her body en route to the shower, letting it fall on the floor of the hallway. Telling herself she’d pick up her clothes after her shower, the shirt had all but escaped from her mind until she saw it now - draped across the arm of the chair near the couch Vi had been laying on all day. Pausing briefly, the sniper reached out to stroke her fingers across the garment, her eye darting back and forth between it and where Vi still laid, staring at nothing at all.
Living with Vi the past few weeks had been like trying to solve riddles with less than half the clues, and that moment was no different. Was Vi trying to help her tidy up? Was she just fucking with her out of some strange sense of revenge? Did one of the maids violate Caitlyn’s orders and come in to do a half-assed job cleaning? Caitlyn’s mind was already spinning, and so when she picked her dirty shirt up, she opted to instead turn to Vi for answers. Delicately kneeling down, she pressed the garment into the hands of her broken girlfriend - hoping, aching, yearning for some semblance of a reason to keep this up.
As soon as the silky, Caitlyn-scented garment found its way into Vi’s hands, the redhead’s fingers tightened within it. Her muscles went taut and her shoulders rolled, her forearms both drawing upward as she - seemingly entirely by pure instinct - brought Caitlyn’s sleeping shirt to her face. With her mouth and nose buried against the silk, Vi’s chest rose slowly and heavy before falling again, proof of a deep, longing breath.
It was a small thing. A flicker of comfort in a time filled with heartache, but that was what made it resonate within Caitlyn to the point that tears immediately found her cheeks. Just like last night, a strangled sob found the air and broke the silence between them, but this time it was one formed with an enthusiastic smile. Caitlyn threw her arms around Vi where the redhead laid on the couch, smelling her partner’s dirty shirt as if that aroma would somehow find her in the darkness. Goosebumps lined her skin and her heart beat as fast and as wildly as it did when the two made love in Powder’s old cell - while that evening had been wickedly intense and filled with the sort of passion most only dreamed of, the tiny revelation that Vi had been yearning for her within her grief struck Caitlyn all the more intensely. A promise that the redhead was looking for her, even when she couldn’t find her cupcake through the darkness. The first sign Caitlyn ever had that things might possibly, hopefully, one day…be al lright.
Well…maybe not all right, considering all that happened. But the bar for paradise was low the past few weeks.
***
Three more days followed, and each of them had been a slow crawl towards joy. Caitlyn’s attention at work was still poor, to the point of nearly causing a schism between Sevika when the Zaun leader thought she wasn’t being taken seriously. The only difference was that while the two weeks leading up to it had been marked with Caitlyn’s steady descent into the throes of depression, the past few days she’d been almost…giddy. Distracted, not by grief, but by anticipation.
She’d been leaving little treats for Vi to discover while she wasn’t there. Breadcrumbs for her lover to follow in the long hours when she was left alone with her most damaging thoughts. The ruffle from her shirt collar that she wore the night they made love in the prison. The leggings she wore the day the two laid in opposite directions on her bed in her family home, sharing stories with each other and slowly realizing how they felt. A cupcake with purple frosting and a white paper wrapper - tantalizingly placed at the edge of the coffee table.
And every single breadcrumb had been followed. Her fancy collar’s ruffle, shifted from the position Caitlyn intentionally left it in that morning, and just as quick to be pulled to Vi’s face to smell when pushed into her fingers. Those leggings - found to have a new purpose when Caitlyn came home, seeing that Vi had wrapped them around her forearms much like she usually did to protect her fists while boxing. And a cupcake wrapper, not just emptied of its inner treat but thoroughly cleaned of any hint of icing - something that only a hungry, craving tongue could pull off. Caitlyn was walking on air as every one of her little treats led to pleasant surprises, and though she was hopeful she was also exercising caution - fully bracing herself for coming home on the fourth day to find that Vi had slid back in her progress.
But instead…when she quietly opened the door and slithered inside, Caitlyn’s heart raced like it hadn’t in weeks. Her beloved Vi was sitting upright on the couch, the blanket draped across her shoulders and her head finally tilting, responding to sound and looking in her direction.
The way Caitlyn dashed across the room upon seeing it was evocative of her youngest years - when a fancy, spoiled little girl would run across the room to open her birthday presents. She tripped over her own feet and struck the ground on her knees with a thud, though by that point she’d already made enough distance to find herself kneeling at the foot of the couch. Her arms stretched out to hug around Vi’s waist, and with tears running down her cheeks she buried her face into the other woman’s lap. Heaven only knew just what Vi sitting upright meant - to what extent things were fixed, if they even were getting better at all - but after weeks of tending to Vi like a broken doll, seeing even the slightest bit of effort was nothing short of glorious. Caitlyn wept against Vi’s lap as she held on tight, her fingers curling within the fabric of her girlfriend’s shirt, her long tresses of blue hair draped over the outsides of each of Vi’s thighs. Her chest rose and fell as she shook with emotion, each sob formed with a hopeful smile, each aching gasp made alongside a prayer that this…this was a sign her nightmare was nearly at an end.
She wasn’t sure just how long she was resting on her knees like that, but it didn’t matter. Any ache that she felt was immediately and irrevocably swept away when she felt - for the first time since before the battle - thick, powerful fingers slip through her hair. It was gentle, of course, and almost uncertain, like Vi was touching something she wasn’t sure would burn her or not. But as Caitlyn’s threads of rich blue hair wove between Vi’s fingers, the rich girl slowly tilted her head up, eye singularly open as she gazed to a face looking down at her with equal awe and hope.
Vi’s lips parted, and her head gently bobbed forward, as if trying to speak but completely forgetting how. The end result was a half-whisper and half-squeak that faded in its infancy, but she tried again after scrunching her nose up and her lips spread just a bit further. Her voice was weak. Fractured. Unsure. Flooded with the rigors of not having used it in so long, while also attempting to call from the brink of the void she’d been lost in. It was such a fragile thing that the words broke as Vi spoke them - each one struggling, clawing, fighting for an opportunity to be heard.
“--h--ey….cuh….ake.”
Caitlyn - her single eye shining like she’d just witnessed the heavens themselves - bounded from the ground and into Vi’s arms with an urgency she hadn’t felt surge inside of her since the first time the spoiled Piltover brat had set eyes on the brutish Zaun thug plucked from the depths of a prison cell.
The impact of Caitlyn rushing into Vi’s lap was nearly enough to squeeze the breath from the other woman, but by some miracle Vi was able to endure the font of her girlfriend’s overjoyed enthusiasm. The momentum was already building now that something inside of Vi had come up and over the apex of her sorrow, finally able to internally cope with what happened, finally able to rejoice in the things she still had. Caitlyn mounted her partner’s lap as she threw her arms fiercely around Vi in the midst of a sudden, punctuated sob - her face burying against Vi’s throat as the poised sniper allowed herself to expose just how much she’d been aching, just how much she’d been suffering in the wake of all this. Each sobbing wail was formed with a smile which certainly helped to ease the moment, as did her fingers slipping up through Vi’s hair - caressing it simply because she wanted to, and not because Vi needed someone to wash her hair each morning. There was still little close to a word shared between the two, and in the immediate aftermath of Vi’s attempt to speak their respective passions were curtailed - Vi, thanks to her body and mind still slowly weaving fully out of the dark, and Caitlyn due to a deep desire to avoid pushing her girlfriend back into it. It was never more critical to her than now that Vi be coaxed back without scaring her, without saying or doing anything that might restart this horrible nightmare. In the weeks and months to come, there would certainly be tears, just as there would be more…professional individuals for the two to discuss their feelings with, but for now? For now, all Vi had was Caitlyn, who was effectively cradling a firefly in her hand so she didn’t accidentally crush it.
Hours passed with Caitlyn in her lover’s lap, holding her close and sobbing in waves that - while still tinted with heartbreak - were still resonant with their joy. That joy alone pitched high every time Vi did something else to reassure Caitlyn she was coming home, from a faint whisper that merely rhymed with Caitlyn’s name, to a hand moving to rest at her hip. Most thrilling of all was when Vi tilted her face inward to Caitlyn’s hair and the rich girl could’ve sworn that she took a breath of it - long and deep and hoping to sit, satisfied, on the scent of a woman that had been hard at work all day. In a perfect world, Caitlyn would’ve been freshly showered and perfumed for her girlfriend to experience with her first passionate breath, but…they both knew they’d already experienced each other at their lowest. And if Vi could appreciate her scent when they were in the depths of Zaun committing atrocities they’d both come to regret, she could certainly find the strength to do it after Caitlyn had been trapped behind a desk all day.
Each time Caitlyn dared to speak as she sat in Vi’s lap, something stopped her. At first, it was how every word was swallowed by a sudden jolt of laughter - brief but punctuated, sharp in the moment only to be swiftly muffled against Vi’s throat. When she was certain she could speak again without laughing from raw delight, she caught herself again on the fear of knocking Caitlyn right back into the darkness. And on the third instance she tried it, well past the two hour mark of a gloriously endless embrace, the words were immediately lost to her lips when she discovered a better use for them - namely, to press against Vi’s brow. She squeezed in, held her kiss to the ridge of her beloved’s nose, tears streaming down her single eye and her body convulsing, trembling, heaving in waves.
She was happier than she’d ever been - and the powerful arms that closed around her waist by that point, squeezing with limbs that hadn’t quite yet atrophied from misuse - were proof she wasn’t the only one.
***
In all, Caitlyn’s nightmare lasted only a month - and the latter half of it was filled with beautiful, sparking moments of joy. Even after Vi started to crawl back to her, things weren’t exactly the same - Vi was still weak, still wounded, still found herself lost in darkness from time to time. Sometimes, she still cried in the dead of night and sometimes when Caitlyn woke her up she stared distantly at the wall for a few minutes before she even processed she was awake. But…the more the days ticked on, the more life could be found in the redhead, and each time it refueled Caitlyn’s strength to its utmost capacity.
The day she came home to find Vi standing up to greet her? She fell to her knees and clutched her partner’s waist, crying happily.
The evening that she started to feed herself? Caitlyn celebrated - smiling as she dabbed her lover’s lips with a napkin.
And the morning that Vi woke her up by means of a loving kiss on the cheek…Caitlyn didn’t even realize it was reality until the smell of her lover, the warmth of the sheets, and the light of the sun jostled her awake. Throughout almost all of this nightmare, Caitlyn hadn’t actually shared a bed with Vi. It somehow felt…wrong, to lay beside her under such circumstances, and so while Vi rested in Caitlyn’s oversized, comfortable bed the sniper would typically sleep on a nearby chair. Or, in the worst of moments, on her knees as she clutched the sheets nearest to where Vi’s head rested, having sobbed herself to sleep. It hadn’t been until that final week that Caitlyn felt it was proper to chastely lay beside her partner - at first on top of the covers while Vi was tucked in, and then slowly closer and closer as more life filled her.
But that morning Caitlyn was woken up by the touch of lips to her cheek, that morning when she could feel Vi’s fingers resting on her belly and one powerful leg half-draped across her lap…her resolve entirely folded, and she couldn’t resist the urge to kiss her beloved any longer. She slid a hand up just long enough to fondly caress her thumb over Vi’s cheek tattoo, and then darted her fingers straight into the back of her lover’s hair, holding it as she closed the distance between them. A heated, intimate, passionate kiss followed during which Caitlyn was keenly aware of how her partner reacted - still cautious, still concerned, even despite all of the hope. When Vi didn’t just tolerate the affection but redoubled it in the form of a heated whimper and a surge of pressure forward, Caitlyn gave one more laughing sob into the kiss, and found herself folding against her partner even more.
As time ticked on, Caitlyn found herself rolling with Vi as the redhead fell back to the bed, straddling her waist while never straying more than a breath’s away between them. She hunched forward atop her, holding her hands to Vi’s cheeks, her hair, her shoulders - anything she could grasp, just to make sure she couldn’t possibly wiggle free. Though the kiss remained chaste for now, in time it would naturally grow in intensity just like the recovering Vi’s heart, and each hint of passion between them would be met with nothing but raw, sincere delight from the heart of the woman that had helped Vi through the mist. Every caress, every kiss, every tensed muscle and every goosebump that came across their bodies over the next few hours was a celebration attended only by two.
At that moment, everything was perfect. From the sunlight casting in through the nearly-drawn curtains in Caitlyn’s bedroom to the sheets that were tangled between them, from the way Vi’s muscles tensed and twitched below Caitlyn’s embrace to how they rediscovered their rhythm almost instantly - it was exactly what she needed. For weeks the sniper had lined up a shot for the purposes of recovery rather than destruction, and in that warm, happy morning she finally had the pleasure of and gratification of sinking it. Her heart beat wickedly fast and the butterflies in her stomach went wild - arms lined with goosebumps, cheeks flushed red with excitement, and tears escaping her singular eye only to fall against Vi’s tattooed cheek. Nothing would pull her from Vi’s side that day - not the responsibilities of Piltover or the needs of Zaun, not the annoying voices of a dozen dignitaries and assistants that were wondering where she was.
She finally had her back. And Vi, for the first time in far too long, found the need and the urgency to once again claim the taste of cupcake on her lips.
The End.