Chapter Text
Slumped in the chair, Jayce woke with his head pressed against his chest. He jolted upright with a wince, a crick in his neck. The room bathed in the morning sun. The colored, rusted walls, the succulents by the window, and even the patchwork of their quilt were vibrant in the light.
Jayce stretched his aching leg, brace off. It throbbed from his frantic run.
He rubbed it, fingers pressing hard into his sore muscles. It didn’t feel as good as when Viktor had done it.
Viktor…
On the bed, Viktor lay still. Unconscious. The only sign of life was the thump of his heart.
It reminded him too much of when Viktor had stopped responding. When he was finally rescued and cradled in his arms, and Jayce had felt his world shatter. For one moment, he thought Viktor died in his arms.
The pure panic and fear struck hard and fast.
The dried blood coated Jayce’s clothes. Deep trails wove through the grooves of Viktor's skin.
It had been a struggle to find a heart beat, inflexible metal skin didn’t bend to Jayce’s prodding touch. Behind Viktor’s ear, a fusion between metal and human flesh, Jayce found his pulse.
Tears clouded Jayce’s eyes from the relief that flowed through him.
He'd pushed his leg to his limit to dash off the hoverboard and to the Sanctuary.
Now, Viktor slept in their home, wounds wrapped, illuminated by the lamplight.
Overly hopeful, Jayce looked at his partner, praying for a hint of movement.
None came, and he stayed as still as a corpse. Nausea clogged his throat, and he turned away.
But then, a lilac finger twitched, and Viktor’s eyes opened.
Iridescent and beautiful, gleaming pearls in the moonlight.
They landed on Jayce and amber — brilliant, golden amber — bloomed around his pupils like the sunrise.
Jayce knew then that Viktor was really back.
He surged forward. His arms wrapped around Viktor's neck in a desperate, tight grip. His shoulder twinged with the remnants of his gun wound. He didn't care.
Jayce buried his nose in Viktor’s hair. It smelt of grease and dirty water, and he never wanted to leave.
Tears brimmed in his eyes.
Viktor tensed, a rigidness that refused to bend to his hold.
“I missed you,” Jayce whispered.
After a moment—two—Viktor's breath hitched, and he finally relaxed.
Strong, metal arms returned the hug, and Viktor gently nuzzled his head into Jayce's face.
He felt Viktor swallow, and the humanity in the act made Jayce ache with relief.
“I… missed you too,” Viktor murmured.
They clutched each other a little tighter.
He craved this. This closeness. The touch. The feeling of having Viktor safe in his arms.
Touching. They were touching .
Jayce jolted back, furiously scanning Viktor’s face.
“Oh! Oh, I’m sorry, Viktor! I wasn’t—I wasn’t even thinking!”
Before he could pull further away, Viktor tightened his grip around his arm.
“It's alright. I’m… fine. There was no resurgence," he said.
A laugh bubbled out of Jayce. He placed his hand atop Viktor’s and reflexively squeezed.
No more questioning every touch. Viktor was free to be himself again.
“So this is ok then?”
Viktor didn’t answer. He looked up then, and his gaze was distant.
Jayce frowned, his shriveled happiness forgotten.
“How long was I gone?” Viktor asked, quiet. His voice sounded human, except for the faintest of metallic timbers on the bass of his words.
Something burned, hot and visceral, deep in Jayce's chest. Where had they kept Viktor, that he hadn't been allowed to see the daylight and the passage of the hours?
“Nine days,” Jayce whispered, clutching Viktor closer.
“Oh.” Jayce could hear the faintest tremor in that one breath. “I lost track…”
Viktor's head found its way beneath Jayce's chin.
Then he laid horribly still.
“How did you find me?” Viktor's breath tickled his neck.
Jayce breathed deep, taken back to the panic and the fear that hadn't truly left—until he had Viktor in his arms.
He spoke softly. “We tried to track you down, but whatever gas affected us…it got the rest too. No one saw where they took you…I was useless, V.” Jayce sniffed and heaved a stuttered breath, brushing through his hair. “I-I couldn't focus. I just got in the way. Cait is the one who found you.”
Viktor stiffened and opened his mouth to speak. No words escaped. His mouth closed with a clack of his teeth.
Concerned, Jayce rubbed Viktor’s arms in a soothing motion. He hoped he hadn’t misstepped. After a beat, he continued. “She never stopped thinking about that shipment log. The one the Baron planted. It had false entries, but real routes too. She didn't rest.”
He paused. Breathed in. “She started from the ground up. Took a closer look at the gas pipelines and found a utility worker that was part of the gang. He'd sent cargo to a dead zone in the Sumps.”
An exhale, and Jayce pulled back. He met Viktor’s eyes with a shaky smile. “She said something wasn't right. And she found you.”
Viktor took his hand in his own and rubbed his thumb down his skin. Jayce looked down at their clasped hands, shocked and soothed by one motion.
Jayce squeezed back and relished in having Viktor here. A Viktor he could touch.
“I'll thank her when I see her, but you cannot blame yourself, Jayce.”
“I'll try,” Jayce said with a bitter turn of his lips.
They sat in each other's presence. A quiet contentment slowly spread and pushed out the remaining tension and bad memories.
Viktor’s brows pinched, lips pursed. “Jayce… I'm sorry—”
“It's ok,” he interjected.
Regret poured from Viktor's slouch and his shifted gaze.
A part of Jayce still remained angry, from the loneliness and confusion. When Viktor cast him aside and called him a liability.
But then he remembered the devastation of knowing Viktor did this all to give up. To name himself a martyr and hide the suicidal intent cloaked beneath.
He could never forget the feeling when he saw Viktor for the first time, days after he was taken.
Sitting peacefully in the shadow of the man about to strike him down.
Jayce swallowed.
“It's ok,” he said again. He saw the dissatisfaction on Viktor's face. “We can talk more later,” Jayce offered. “For now, you need more rest.”
“What? No. I just woke up,” Viktor said.
Jayce rolled his eyes. “You're healing, V.”
Confusion tugged at Viktor's eyebrows.
“I should already be healed,” Viktor muttered to himself, pulling at his bandages.
Peeled free, old and fresh blood darkened the gauze. His wounds staggered with clots.
Viktor stared, unblinking.
Then, for some reason, a sardonic laugh burst from his mouth.
Jayce gripped his knee, concerned.
“She weakened my healing,” he said, bitter and wry.
“Who?”
Viktor blinked, and his expression shuttered, eyes distant.
“She… I…”
Frowning, Jayce squeezed his knee. “Hey, it's ok. Rest first, we'll talk more later.”
Viktor frowned, then slowly nodded, and Jayce helped him lay down.
Once more, he fell still. Jayce hoped he rested easy and wasn't caught in a nightmare.
Soaked from the bucket water, his shirt clung to Jayce, and water dripped into his chair.
He dunked his bloodied shirt and scrubbed again. Viktor's blood, dark with an oily sheen, stayed glued to the fabric. It wouldn't come out .
He sat back in the chair. His wrists ached from work.
Jayce rested his neck on the back and leaned back, closing his eyes.
The images played on loop in his mind. Unconscious and bleeding out in his arms.
Nine days Viktor had been gone, and he hadn't known. He'd been experimented on, his body changed, like some sort of rat .
Jayce exhaled. Inhaled. Slow.
He unclenched his fists.
Quietly, he walked to the bedroom doorway. His cane softly tapped the metal flooring.
Still asleep, still safe, Viktor remained on the mattress.
The sun shone on the gold embroidered on his skin, and his hair, brown streaked with bleached gold, flowed around his head like the wings of an angel.
In the late hours of Viktor's rest, Caitlyn visited.
Jayce opened the front door. He smiled softly at her standing at the doorway.
“Is he asleep?” She asked. “I know it's late, but,” she held up a bag. “I bought some of your favorite macaroons from Marise's, and some sweet milk for Viktor. If he can drink. I mean it looked like he…Could?”
Jayce blinked. He hadn't seen Caitlyn be nervous like this since she was small.
He smiled gingerly and opened the door wider in invitation. “Where’s Vi?”
“She stayed home. We didn’t want to crowd him.” She looked around at their cozy shack. “How is he?”
“He's processing a lot, but—”
“I'll be just fine, thank you.”
Viktor's voice drifted over from the bedroom corridor.
He emerged from the dark hallway in one of Jayce’s blue shirts, too big and long for his frame. Tucked under his pants, the shirt cinched around his waist. His pants and sleeves were folded.
A light flush came to Jayce’s cheeks as he stared. He looked good.
As he fully walked into the light, Jayce saw his uneven gait.
A limp to his right leg and a crease to his brow. His frown strained and twisted.
The only hints that he was in pain.
“Viktor,” Jayce scolded. “What are you doing out of bed?”
Viktor rolled his eyes then gestured pointedly. His visible skin lacked the old bloody bandages.
His wounds were completely gone.
“Oh,” Caitlyn gasped. “Your healing is extraordinary.”
“Yes. Jayce is a needless mother hen.”
Jayce squinted. “Need I remind you that you healed after I told you to rest?”
Caitlyn laughed softly.
“Hello, Miss Kiramman,” Viktor said. He sat down at their dining table, lowering himself gingerly. He stretched his leg out and slowly released a long, heavy breath.
Jayce sat down as well. His own leg still ached fiercely from his desperate escape with Viktor. He set his cane to his side and grunted softly as he settled on the chair.
He kept a worried eye on Viktor, who stared at the grooves on the table.
Caitlyn placed the paper bag down and frowned at Viktor. She shot a quiet, concerned look at Jayce.
“Just Caitlyn, please,” she requested. She cleared her throat. “I can see you drooling, you know.”
Jayce squawked, playing along. Although there was some truth to her words, he missed these pastries. His stomach was growling in anticipation.
“What is it?” Viktor asked, after a beat.
“Macaroons and sweet milk, if you'd like.” Viktor's eyes lit up.
“Yes, please.”
Viktor guzzled the sweet milk down like a man starved.
Jayce opened his mouth to tease. Stopped.
The metal of Viktor's cup bent in his hold. He cradled it like it might vanish.
Jayce’s jaw clamped shut.
“Thank you Miss—ah. Caitlyn.”
She smiled.
A stilted conversation followed. Jayce asked Cait about Piltover and the Council. Neither were happy topics, but it was something that they could talk about.
Yet Viktor stayed quiet. He wouldn’t respond unless prompted.
Jayce tapped his fingers on the tabletop. Was there too many people, too soon for Viktor to be comfortable?
Or maybe he was the issue, he thought, stilling. Maybe Viktor needed a break from him. They still had much unsaid.
Viktor adjusted his leg under the table, hitting the corner with a small clink of metal on metal. He seemed to barely react besides an imperceptible wince.
Jayce hid a frown behind his hand, and his mind flashed to the workshop. The gift he crafted there. He had just the solution.
Jayce glanced at their kitchen. Their water was getting low. He’d been planning on making a trip to the well. It was as good an excuse as any.
He stood up, grabbing his cane in a smooth motion. “I’m going to refill our water basin. Will you two be ok while I’m gone?”
Caitlyn tilted her head and gave a measured nod.
Viktor’s eyes went wide. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. Jayce waited, concerned—a tight grip on his cane handle.
Jayce held his breath until, slowly, Viktor nodded. The slightest dip of his head. His fingers bent around the table’s edge.
Jayce wavered, then swallowed. He had to trust Viktor’s judgement.
“I’ll be right back,” he promised.
Jayce tried to be quick, although his speed was tempered by his harsh limp. He would need to rest it for a while. And Viktor would too.
Bucket in hand, he made it to the well. Ivy draped over it and fell in waves.
Jayce would forever be astonished by the life in this place, and the ingenuity of the Firelights. Their resourcefulness to look for the water reservoir that gave life to their tree.
Attaching the bucket to the rope, he sent it down. The splash echoed.
He pulled it up, muscles straining.
Once Viktor felt better, and they finished their air filter, maybe they could help install water pipelines. They could fill in the gap of time and resources that the Firelights currently lacked.
Jayce smiled softly. It sounded nice. They could help make their lives easier, and pay back for how much Ekko’s people have helped them.
Filled bucket by his feet, Jayce took a breather. He eyed the workshop, not too far.
He had a stop to make before he made his way back.
When Viktor was first kidnapped, Jayce couldn’t rest. He never stopped searching. Hours stacked upon hours. The others insisted he sleep, but when night fell, his mind ran rampant instead. He had thought of Viktor, hovering to avoid walking on his leg and stretching it out just as he had when he was human.
So in those sleepless nights, he made a cane.
The workshop door closed softly behind him.
With the lighting of a candle, Jayce walked over the strewn tools laying across the floor, towards the cane hidden beneath an old tarp. He threw it off with a flutter, and then held the cane above his head in the light. One last inspection before he made his way back.
He never stopped thinking about Viktor's old staff. Though warped by the arcane, there was a natural beauty to it. From wild, untamed magic.
The metal curved and swooped in smooth waves, in colors and shapes reflected on Viktor's body.
Jayce wanted to show the beauty he saw in this creation. To show Viktor he saw his new form as something wondrous.
So he mirrored it in this staff.
A dark lilac, made from a combination of silver and dyed metals. It shone, purple and pale. The light glinted off the gold, arched handle at the top.
He etched grooves into the curves, decor and handhelds both.
It was more like a staff than a cane, made for when Viktor towered as the Herald. In the future, perhaps he could create a folding system, so it would match Viktor's current height.
But for now, it would provide the support Viktor needed.
Jayce swallowed nervously. He hoped Viktor liked it. His mind had been driven, creation running away from him.
But he just wanted to replicate Viktor's beauty. Even changed, Viktor made the arcane his own.
With cane and water bucket in hand, staff held in his underarm, he made his way back.
Jayce reached the front door when voices met his ears.
“Thank you again, Caitlyn.”
Even stiff and even, Jayce was relieved to hear Viktor speak.
“I’m glad to have helped. I just… wish I could have done more.”
There was a pause.
Then, “He really does need you, you know,” Caitlyn said.
Jayce's hand froze on the doorknob.
He didn't mean to eavesdrop, but he knew Viktor was just pretending to be fine.
There were too many instances of an odd stillness and fright.
Maybe something could slip now.
Viktor responded, a little more alert, a bit more present. Jayce didn't realize just how flat his voice had been before.
“How was he?”
“He drove himself ragged,” Caitlyn said. “He didn't stop.”
“Hm. That's what he said about you.”
A brief, bitter chuckle escaped her. “Yes, well… It was hard. To see him like that.”
Quiet settled between them, and just as the guilt for eavesdropping drifted in, Caitlyn spoke up.
“Viktor?”
“...hmm?” Viktor sounded distant again, in his own head. Jayce tightened his fingers on his cane.
He heard the creaking of a chair as she sat upright.
“I need to tell you something,” she said, a wall of determination. Jayce frowned, confused. Guilt ran underneath her words. A fracture widening in the foundation.
He recognized that tone. It was the same as Viktor’s broken confession to Vi. When the guilt ran too strong, and the torrent smashed through the dam.
“When you were gone, I—” She stopped. Drew in a shaky breath. Started over. “I’ve been a damn hypocrite. Rightfully, I cannot sit in your company unless we are on equal ground.”
And damn it, Caitlyn was brave, but Jayce could hear the tremor in her voice. The regret. The cracks in the wall.
The fear of telling the truth to the man her brother loved.
Jayce knew then that he couldn't let her do it.
Not when Viktor was fragile, with wounds still raw.
With a burst of movement and a clatter of the staff falling to the ground, Jayce strolled into the room, making his presence known. “Sorry I took so long, but I'm back!”
He'd never been a good liar though. Too earnest and empathetic, as his mom said.
Viktor looked at him with bright, wide eyes, but stayed oddly silent.
Caitlyn blinked rapidly, brought to a standstill like a jammed gun. For an instant, relief lightened her features, but then anger flooded in.
Her mouth twisted, and she stood up with a flourish, brushing imaginary dirt from her pants.
“I'll leave you two to it then.” She said and nodded at Viktor, gaze distant. “I'm glad you're safe.”
The door shut behind her, not loud, but forceful in its finality.
Jayce didn't have time to feel regret before Viktor's shuttered breaths met his ears.
He threw himself into the chair next to him. His leg screamed in protest, but he didn’t care. His complete focus rested on Viktor.
“Vik, hey, what's wrong?”
Viktor glared through glassy eyes.
“You knew what she was about to say.” He harshly exhaled. “Don't make decisions for me, Jayce.”
Jayce froze. “I thought I stopped doing that.” He exhaled. “I'm sorry. I won't.” He meant it. Caitlyn’s truth was big , daunting and brutal, but that wasn’t his decision to make. Jayce would have to apologize to her later, too.
But that wasn't what this was really about. Viktor's been off. Distant and too calm. Like he's been playing a part.
Viktor was never a good liar either.
Jayce placed a hand on his knee, and Viktor flinched.
“Too much?” Jayce asked, pulling away.
Viktor shook his head. “No, not like before.” And in a move that startled Jayce, Viktor drew his hand back to his knee.
His grip was tight, like he was afraid to lose contact.
“Talk to me,” Jayce whispered.
Viktor stayed silent for a while, his mouth pursed in a flat line.
“You left.”
Jayce stilled, caught in the memory of wide eyes staring after him.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Viktor's head bowed, and his hair shrouded his face.
“No,” he murmured. “But I think I need to. Something is wrong with me. I didn't… I didn't realize I would panic from your departure.”
Jayce exhaled slowly. The guilt rose. He couldn't stop imagining Viktor sitting in stifling panic, alone. Because he hadn't wanted to fall apart in front of Cait.
But he was here now, and Jayce listened to that impulse.
He pulled his chair closer, wrapping an arm around Viktor’s shoulders. The metal bit into him slightly, but he didn't mind.
It was a gentle pressure. A secure reminder that his partner was back.
Viktor shivered at the touch, a slight movement away.
He breathed out, and slowly, his head rested on Jayce's shoulder. His long hair brushed his breast bone.
Jayce took the chance to rest his head on his.
“I'm sorry.” Viktor's voice sounded off, choked.
He stiffened and fought every urge to cradle Viktor's face and wipe the stress away.
Viktor needed this privacy, to have his expressions hidden in the crook of his neck.
“I'm sorry for casting you aside. For thinking I could lock it all away... I thought it would benefit everyone. If I could become a machine. Turn my doubts off and…”
He grew silent. Jayce felt him anxiously pull and run the fabric of his shirt between his fingers.
“Say as much or as little as you want,” Jayce murmured. “I'm here to listen. I'm not going anywhere.”
Viktor's breath hitched, and he nodded. But it was measured, uncertain, like his body knew but his mind remained trapped elsewhere.
“An invulnerable weapon,” he continued after a beat. “I was just what she wanted… Renata Glasc.”
Jayce shuddered. “The Chem Baron.”
Viktor hummed. His voice took on a monotonous tone, like he was reading a report. “Her scientists injected me with a compound. A concentrated version of the gas that affected you before.”
He looked down and clenched his hands together with a dull clink.
“Constantly, I was imbued with it. My emotions no longer my own. Fear and anger were my only companions. She wanted me as her personal attack dog.”
Viktor smiled wryly. It didn’t reach his eyes. “She didn't know her compound would ‘weaken me’. It gave me a heart. Blood. Fear. Rage. Hatred. Everything I thought I buried. The emotions flooded in. Her design and abuse. She puppeted me through it.”
Viktor’s eyes were glassy. His voice pitched low in near-silent bass. “She was right, in the end. My legacy…”
Jayce’s gut leapt to his chest. Viktor was scaring him.
Then he blinked, eyes refocusing.
“Tell the others for me. Please Jayce. I… I cannot. Not in front of all of them.”
Jayce frowned and squeezed him reassuringly. “Of course. No one expects you to.”
His lips pursed in an uncomfortable grimace. Jayce didn’t know what to say to make Viktor believe it.
His gaze was distant, his hands still.
When he spoke, his words froze Jayce to the bone.
“She knew who I was, Jayce.”
“...What ? ” It was barely a whisper.
“She threatened you too.” Viktor paused, his face creased with stress and worry. The words came fast, like a confession. “I fear for your mother. I doubt that she's had protection since your ‘passing'.”
Jayce forced out even breaths. Viktor was right. His mother wouldn’t have any protection without his say as a Councilor.
Jayce’s skin felt tight, panic clawing towards the surface.
Viktor’s eyes, alternating silver and pink, watched him carefully. His expression shifted, and his thumb stroked soothing circles on his wrist.
His heart rate slowed. Viktor’s skin was temperate and comforting against his heat and sweat.
Jayce wanted to remain there forever. In their home together, safe.
He blinked, and an idea struck him.
Slowly, he pulled his wrist from Viktor, until their fingers brushed into a gentle clasp.
“I have an idea,” he said. “I'll be right back. I'm going to grab something.”
Viktor's lips thinned, and he hummed.
“I'm not your keeper, Jayce. You don't need to ask.” Under the sarcasm and bravado, he heard it. The strain and discontent.
“And neither am I yours,” Jayce said. He stood, slow, and paused. He licked his lips, and with the anxiety still strumming his nerves, he admitted, “We’ll get through this, V. It’s ok to not be ok.”
Viktor's eyes shuttered, flaring amber. “...don't be gone long, please.”
Jayce stepped outside. Left on the ground in his dash to get inside, the staff sat untouched and pristine, even amongst the dirt and bugs on the walkways.
When Jayce brought it inside, the light glinting off the silver, Viktor’s mouth fell open. His brows lifted in shock.
He reached for it, and held in his fingertips, ginger and reverent. His eyes shone as he stroked the grooves.
“Even now… You love the arcane.” Viktor said. It wasn't a question.
Jayce swallowed. “The Hexgates, was our mistake. Our abuse. But magic… magic is its own beast. Nature's greatest phenomena. To think we could control it was a bit…”
“Egotistical?” Viktor hummed, smiling slightly.
Jayce laughed, despite the heaviness of their words. “Yes. Yes, it was.” He paused, and stared at the staff. And the thoughts that held his mind during its creation.
“It's wild. Untamable,” he murmured, gaze finding Viktor's.
“When I think of magic, I think of you.” Viktor straightened, eyes glimmering. “Someone who refused to bend to anyone. Piltover, the Council, the world… Nothing ever stopped you. You're magical, Viktor.”
Jayce froze. A hot blush ran to his cheeks as his brain caught up to his mouth.
Viktor was wide eyed. His lips parted, a matching heat to his face.
Then, Viktor laughed, breathless and short, but real. His lips pulled into a breathtaking smile.
“Magical, hmm?”
Jayce rubbed the back of his neck and looked away, even the skin there felt hot and flushed.
Viktor looked back down at the staff. His smile stayed in place. A beautiful pocket of time.
But his mom was still out there.
He swallowed. The cozy hearth in his chest twisted into a steady blaze, hot and restless.
He held a hand out to Viktor.
“You ready to go?”
Viktor tilted his head, squinting his eyes.
“What exactly do you have in mind?” He asked, words slow. He took his hand anyway.
Jayce smiled at him.
“We'll go to Piltover and get my mom. Of course.”
Viktor stared. “...Of course.”
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
A hoverboard zipped overhead. The shadow cast over Viktor’s face, only to reveal blazing light a moment later.
He startled, blinking back to awareness.
He sat on a sun-warmed bench. The heat, dulled through his skin, was still pleasant, and helped to ease his frothing anxieties.
Ekko’s people walked past, and he felt as though he was baking in their scrutiny. The side glances at his exposed face and the glares to his inhuman body.
He pulled his shoulders back, resisting the urge to hunch and hide.
Viktor wished he could return to that magical, happy moment with Jayce, not an hour prior. It dissipated so soon.
The well-worn blue and red blanket laid cinched around his chest.
His hands had moved through familiar motions, wrapping and securing it methodically. A facsimile of his commune attire.
A cold shiver ran through his spine when he realized what he had done. But he couldn’t bear to leave without it.
Even now, his fingers rubbed soothing strokes over the silken fabric. At the least, the blanket covered the oddness of his neck, and he could throw up a hood if needed. His arms and legs were covered as well from the shirt and pants.
He looked as normal as could be.
Viktor jumped as muffled voices traveled through the door behind him.
Despite Jayce's reassurances, Viktor felt cowardly, letting him be the one to tell Ekko what happened.
He already told Jayce of the facility’s assembly line, full of thousands of gas masks. He talked about his concern for the connection between Zaun’s pipelines and Renata’s compound.
At the end of it all, Jayce promised they’d figure it out.
Viktor held onto that promise and willed it to slow his pounding heart. As he tried to calm himself, Ekko’s voice rang out, sharp and clear.
“ Piltover! Now? ”
Viktor winced.
He braced himself for further arguing. Nothing would stop Jayce from checking on Ximena.
Earlier, Jayce had rushed at the idea of involving the Enforcers. His faith in Caitlyn was as strong as ever.
“I’ll grab Caitlyn,” Jayce had said. “She can get Enforcers—”
Viktor’s eyes widened, and he surged for Jayce’s wrist. “You would trust the Enforcers with your mother?” He asked, firm if not for the tremor beneath. “They can be bought, Jayce. And we know this Baron’s reach.”
Jayce shook his head. “Caitlyn’s been rooting out the corruption. She wouldn’t let anything happen to Mom.”
“I do not doubt Miss Kiramman. But money has a way of showing people’s true colors, something this Baroness has aplenty.”
The sound of the door opening pulled Viktor from the memory. The sight of Jayce standing there eased something tight in his chest.
Jayce rolled his shoulders back and stood tall, like he was discarding the troubles weighing him down. He had done that quite a bit as a Councilor.
“Ok,” he spoke quietly. “Ekko knows. He'll look into it with the others while we're away. If we don't return soon, they'll follow after.”
“And it will just be us?” Viktor asked, carefully.
Jayce’s lips quirked slowly into a small smile. “It’ll just be us.”
Viktor sagged with relief. The small disagreement had rattled him more than it should have. He had been sure Jayce would disregard his warning, and risk bringing Renata closer.
And despite the rationale of Viktor's suggestion to travel as two, a small and stealthy group, it was incredibly reckless. But even so, everything was still too raw. Viktor didn’t want to be around the others. He wanted away.
He thought Jayce would be vehemently opposed.
But he listened to his concerns.
Still, Viktor had to ask. “And you are ok with this?”
“Yeah,” Jayce exhaled. “I got a hoverboard, and my hammer.” He gestured to both secured on his back. “And you’re feeling up to it.”
Though it wasn’t a question, Viktor nodded, still wary Jayce could pull the rug from under him.
“Yes. I have full control of my faculties.”
“Then we're good,” Jayce nodded, final. “With just us two, we'll avoid attention. Stick to the alleys and roofs, like we planned.”
Jayce headed for the sanctuary exit. Viktor blinked and followed. Their canes clicked along the boardwalks in tandem.
“You're not nervous?” Viktor asked.
Jayce chuckled under his breath.
“Oh, I am. But when have we ever been careful?” Jayce glanced at him. “You need the space.”
Viktor wanted to smile, but a frown marred his face instead.
He didn’t deserve this.
They walked silently, and the exit grew nearer.
Anxiousness bubbled in his chest, and he knew he desperately wanted to talk to Jinx before he left. He owed her that, at least.
The workshop closed in, but he didn’t hear the banging of metal or atrociously loud music.
No shock of blue hair was in sight.
“Did Ekko mention where Jinx might be? I want to speak with her.”
“No,” Jayce said. He grimaced, “I haven't seen her since your rescue. She was in a bad way before as well.”
“I see.” Viktor looked at the ground. “I suppose she needs time too.”
“Yeah.”
She didn’t want to see him. The thought sat in the back of his mind like old tar.
The light dimmed as they entered the old tunnels. Ribbed in rusted metal and moss, it looked as though they were entering the belly of a beast.
The last bit of light glinted off Viktor’s staff. Polished and pristine, it towered over him, kingly.
Wry, he said, “Subtlety was not on your mind when you made this, no?”
“Uhhh… no.” He couldn't see Jayce very well in the dark, but the sheepishness was clear in his voice.
Viktor snorted. “And we're about to embark on stealthy travel. ‘Avoid attention,’ was it?”
Jayce elbowed him playfully, thunking against hard metal. Viktor's eyebrow raised.
“Ouch,” Jayce hissed.
Smog reached them as they came to the end. Jayce coughed.
“We should have brought you a gas mask,” Viktor said.
Jayce cleared his throat, “Blending in remember? Don't want to look too Piltie.”
Viktor eyed him. A white shirt, an off shade from hand cleaning. His dark pants were speckled with singed holes. Larger areas stitched with mismatched cloth.
And his scruffy beard offered a roguish charm.
He… he looked good.
“So?” Jayce asked, toying with his shirt collar. It was hard to tell from the green lamp lights, but a light flush sat on his cheeks.
Viktor looked away, and ignored the fluttering in his heart. Jayce frowned in his peripheral.
“Eh,” Viktor stumbled to say. “It'll do.”
The tunnel opened then to the cacophony of Zaun. Even tucked into a nook, they could hear the clamouring of merchants. Music stations, loud and raucous, called for attention.
The uproar of noise distracted Jayce. Viktor allowed himself to relax, now that his stare was absent.
They slowed and walked through a few more twists of the tunnel as it narrowed. Jayce squeezed through, his shoulders and gear lightly scrapped the rusted walls.
They emerged from a shrouded corner and blended with the crowds.
With just the two of them, it was odd, Viktor realized, to finally have Jayce in the Undercity.
He used to imagine taking him down to show the lives they could improve.
Areas thick with endless smog.
The pollution in the creeks that children would bathe in.
He wanted to save them all. With Hextech.
And then it all went wrong.
“Look,” Jayce said, pulling him from his darkening thoughts. “I think this alley could lead us up to the Promenade. Right?”
Viktor's eyes refocused. His mouth moved without thought, comfortable in his act.
“And you suppose I know every back alley?” Although his lips curled into a joking smile, he wasn't sure if his heart was in it.
Nonetheless, a part of him was heartened to hear Jayce laugh.
“You know what I mean! Look, it goes behind…”
Jayce’s words faded to his ears. He could see the lines of stress under Jayce's eyes.
His partner had always been a poor liar. His heart on his sleeve.
Ximena was in danger, and yet Jayce was acting strong for him.
Viktor frowned. He should be fine.
He was out of Renata's hold. He could eat. Feel. Touch.
Why wasn't he fine? Why couldn't he be an anchor for Jayce?
His foot splashed in — something. Cold and viscous. He didn't want to know.
Walls towered on each of his sides. Viktor realized then, they were in a backstreet.
He must have agreed for Jayce to lead them back here.
His joints on his leg ached. They had been walking for some time.
He placed more weight on his staff.
Soon, they came out of the alley onto a cobbled street. Few people littered the shadows.
Judging it safe, Jayce walked forward. Viktor followed—until he caught his reflection.
Half human, half metal, looked back through the cracked window.
For a second, he thought he was in his greenhouse.
Fallen night and stained glass.
A treasured blanket wrapped into a robe.
And a face that stared back impassively at its loss of humanity.
He could get angry at Jayce for not destroying the Hexcore. For reviving him.
But he only had himself to blame for walking down the path he did.
“Viktor?”
Footsteps approached. Hurried.
He blinked. Jayce appeared beside him.
He hadn't noticed he walked ahead.
“Hey. Hey look at me?” Jayce gently gripped his cheek, and slowly turned his head.
“Talk to me,” Jayce pleaded. “What's wrong?”
Viktor opened his mouth. Nothing came out. His jaw clacked shut.
He couldn't take it—the concern in those hazel eyes.
He looked away.
Yet Jayce stayed silent. Waiting.
“Come on,” Jayce finally said. “We're almost at the crossing.”
Silently, Viktor followed, shaky and unsteady.
He tripped— his foot caught on missing cobble.
“Oof!” Jayce caught him, steady hands resting on his hips. “A little heavy there. You ok, V?”
“Mhm,” Viktor mumbled.
The touch was peaceful. Not a precursor to a loss of control.
But he didn’t feel any better. He’s the most human he could hope to be, yet this starving, carnivorous hole ate away at him.
And he couldn’t shut it off.
Deep lines creased Jayce’s face. Just like the morning, Viktor mustered the strength to carry on.
“Let’s go,” he said, but it sounded more dead than he’d like.
He wished they hadn't continued onward.
Through the levels, they traversed. Up the stairs through the Bridgewaltz, and the gondola, rickety as it was, took them closer to the surface.
The higher they went, the more he noticed people had masks. Renata's masks.
He knew that design. Even in the seconds he saw it, he knew.
Large gas canisters. Beady lenses that took no care in the wearers’ sight.
The mass manufacturing faults.
Viktor wanted to scream. Yell and tell Jayce they're hers.
But his throat closed again because he knew.
His actions were pointless.
Locking his emotions, destroying factories— fighting.
And it hurt Jayce. Jinx.
His legacy… Did Glasc say that, knowing she had already won?
She laughed at him. She knew his fight against her was just another failure on his ledger.
And his biggest failure, becoming an emotionless beast, only paved the way for her success.
Viktor felt sick.
A hand fell on his shoulder and squeezed softly. Viktor flinched—too much, too fast, but then, like the fog parting before the beam of a lighthouse, he eased into Jayce's comforting hold.
“Is your leg hurting?” Jayce asked in a near whisper. As if there wasn't sweat slicking his own brow. “We can rest.”
“No. We're close,” Viktor managed to say.
And they were. Bits of sunlight peeked through the light pollution. Viktor heard the splashing of waves against the docks.
Jayce nodded, but he didn't move his hand.
Viktor leaned heavily into it. Without, he felt he would drift away.
The buildings opened to the ocean. A cold breeze brought sensation to his bare skin.
Chopped concrete broke off to the wooden, fenced boardwalks.
The faraway voices of the city were quiet against the lapping waves. The sun shone on the water, warm, yet Viktor felt cold, distant.
Jayce gave his shoulder a parting squeeze before he headed for the water.
He eased himself over the fence, dropping down onto the beach underneath the wood planks.
Hidden beneath lay their boat, separate from the boats at the docks busy with the day’s fishers.
Viktor staggered after him, steps heavy.
Jayce pushed the boat out, and hopped onto it with sodden boots. He held out a hand. Viktor took it.
His foot caught on a plank. He gasped. The world tilted as Jayce pulled him in, and Viktor fell into his chest.
Jayce encircled him in his arms, silent but supportive. Somehow, he was warm, even in this dim world where even the sun felt cold.
“Sit back,” Jayce murmured. “I’ll start the boat.”
He let him go, and Viktor couldn’t form the words to ask him to stay.
As the boat’s engine took them across the water, Piltover’s shore came closer. The bridge between the cities loomed over them, darkening them in its shadow.
Only Viktor stared, unblinking, at his reflection. The culmination of his mistakes stared back.
The boat carried them onward, and Viktor wished the waves could swallow him whole.