Pendulum

by Corkyno

Summary:

Two adults stand on the Bridge of Progress, each with the full intention to jump. The void calls to them, yet somehow through her bellows, they hear one another.

The pendulum swings, neither heed her call.

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Domestic Violence AU that started as a thread on twitter. At the end of his rope, Viktor prepares to leave this life, taking his newborn daughter with him. Jayce interrupts and becomes not only a man that Viktor can lean on, but a father figure to his daughter and eventually, the love of his life. A nontraditional omegaverse story that transverses abuse, mental illness, healing, and falling in love.

Beta read by @Kotamadaa

Notes:

• Translation into Français available: Pendule (traduction de “Pendulum“ par Corkyno) by AugusteArtemis

Chapter 1: Call of the void

A clock ticks consistently upon the white wall of the building. It’s rhythmic, repetitive, and plain. 

Everyone had gone home hours ago, yet Jayce sat alone in the lab of the Research and Development unit of Talis Enterprise. The hours he had spent here were supposed to be designing hammers or something to second his most recent development, the collapsable wrench. And while those projects and patents were impressive and they technically did help people. Jayce wanted to do more.

This isn’t where he wanted to be as he neared the end of his twenties, while he was a proud member of the Talis family. No, Jayce was a firm believer, since childhood, that their name was meant to be larger than that. Call it grandeur, but he wanted to do something more than build and modify tools. 

Jayce had always been wearing his father’s last name with pride, yet he couldn’t help but feel that all of this had been for nothing. Proud, but also the only son to Ximena Talis, the one who was set to inherit it all, if he could get his act together.

Although he had been born into it, he had earned it nonetheless. Graduating with top ranks in highschool, despite only wanting to pass the classes he liked before moving on to quickly advance through college. Bachelors, Masters, stopping his PhD program because his mother really wanted him to get his foot in the family business.

He never actually wanted to run it, he wanted to create, build. 

This feeling of nihility, it was a feeling that he’d get often, one that he hadn’t been able to escape. It was a pendulum, he’d fall engrossed in his work and plans no matter if they succeeded or failed. He’d derail projects in his manic state before falling into the shadows when he fell into a slump. When he couldn’t pull himself out of bed, questioning why the hell it mattered if he changed the shape of a hammer’s head. It wasn’t as bad when he was in college, when he was studying and free to do what he wanted as he pleased.

When his deadlines had more meaning then designing new packaging.

None of this mattered to the people, the companies that they sold to, sure, but what about everyone else? Nothing monumental would happen from a hammer, from a piece of packaging that’d somehow end up in the ocean.

He never wanted to insult his father nor the hard work his family had put into this for years, he knew the story. A ground up business, grit, blood and tears. A true testament of immigrants coming to a new country for a better life, crawling up from the dirt to reign high in a capitalist society. Talis, he was so incredibly proud of that last name but he wanted to forge a different path for it.

When he presented as an Alpha, a different set of expectations fell upon his shoulders. Ximena wanted him to date, to marry, to carry on the family name and produce a child the company could go to. Jayce hadn’t thought about relationships much, he had a few during his life, but they always ended when he fell into a large project. Or when he slumped so deep, that he’d fail to communicate with them fully.

A family would be beautiful, but not until he was able to accomplish his dreams. So he could look at his mate, his children, and tell them with pride that he had done something good for the world. 

Dark circles melted into his skin, clinging to it like a fungus in a dank basement. He pushed himself back in his seat, pressing the pads of his fingers so hard against his eyes that he no longer saw the sketches in front of him and instead saw bursts of color.

Bursts of color, so bright.

The world was so much duller now, less saturated.

The rain pattered against the window, the wind brushing the trees against the side of the building. Those were supposed to be cut, no one wanted to deal with the complaints when the siding was torn off the side of their workplace. Jayce would have done it if he was in a better mood, if he didn’t feel so utterly useless.

In the grand scheme of things, a hammer could be used to destroy and build, yet Jayce couldn’t see what in the world he was meant to do. He wanted to help people. Create like he did in his youth, before his mother convinced him to take a real job and abandon his ‘manic prospects’ for realism.

Ximena had always supported him, but as she got older there was only so much she could do for her son. To defend him in front of other employees, to people who held higher positions than him; the only reason he was likely still here was because he was a genius, but also had the birthright to be there.

Yet still, Jayce carried around a few of his personal notebooks, placed in his bag so he could plan whenever his whimsy decided it. The hours he spent sketching designs for mobility aids, transportation devices, and the like meant nothing in the long run at least not to those above him. Turning 23 melted away all of the work he had done in the family garage, the prosthetic fingers he had made for his mother, the cane he had made for his elderly neighbor.

It all fell away to hammers and wrenches.

Tools to build, yet Jayce felt his hands were too clean, too empty.

A life so incredibly unfulfilling.

The amount of coffee he consumed couldn’t shake the depressed fatigue he felt and he knew that tomorrow he’d get an earful for drinking too much. If he had cared, if he hadn’t been in one of his slumps, he would get another bag of coffee. Or, in his highest moments, he’d buy coffee for the entire R&D department.

But it doesn’t matter.

The notebook in front of him has sketches of his newest cane design, one that could collapse but remain sturdy, and have a hidden compartment just in case. Everyone he knew would tell him that he didn’t need to reinvent the wheel. That this was pointless, just like every idea he’d had since he became an adult.

Because who cares about the ideas of someone who’s dreams appear delusional or when their own mother says they are ill? 

Tired of being here, staring at the reminders of his life going nowhere fast, Jayce grabs his notebook and tosses it into his bag, packing up quickly with his jaw tight. They had a deadline for product design and he knew that he’d fucked it up, he’d have less than 24 hours to design a different packaging for some stupid product.

Packaging.

If he was fired from his family’s company, how embarrassing would that be?

Jayce haphazardly tossed his stuff in his backpack, wishing that this feeling would vanish while knowing all too well it wouldn’t. He left the building without an umbrella, hoping the cold rain would make him feel anything. Once in the car he peels off his scent patch and sinks into his seat, he closes his eyes and allowed his pheromones to spill into the car.

He drove in silence, his wet clothes sticking to his skin as he nearly fell into autopilot. The call of the void pulled him from his stupor, from falling into the routine of driving into Piltover and back home. Instead it pulled him towards Zaun, towards Progress Bridge. 

The rain has lightened up a bit, allowing him to see an open space besides the bridge. Jayce pulls off of the road and onto the grass, putting his car in park as he sits with his hands on the wheel. His chest doesn’t rise and fall quickly like it would if he was panicking, instead it falls in slow rhythmic breaths.

Somehow Jayce feels perfectly calm.

Maybe every sketch in his private notebook would suffice as the letter his family would need. The lost dreams of growing up, the vibrant imagination snuffed out by monotony and expectations from a generation behind him.

I’m so dramatic, Jayce shook his head, grinning to himself.

Out of habit, Jayce locks his car door and slides his keys into his pocket. If the void extends her hand to him and Jayce takes it, they’d find other ways to break into the mysterious abandoned car.

He walks along the bridge, a place where plenty of people cross while some only make it half way. It used to surprise him, to hear about the jumpers. How people would feel so alone and hopeless that they would throw it all away. A few weeks ago, he probably would have still thought that.

But now, he finds himself wondering what it would be like to jump. To free himself from a job he barely likes and a life of mediocrity. He wanted to help people, yet here he is hating his job, the job his mom convinced him to get. The one that has run in the family, the one he was trying to grow out of. The thoughts are repetitive, a cycle, the void sings out to him.

Jayce wonders what it would feel like to jump, his arms splayed out as he felt gravity drag him down, the free fall of wind rushing towards him before he hit the surface of the water. The entry wouldn’t be soft, he knew that. It would feel just as hard as hitting land, bones would break and maybe he’d die on impact. If he was unlucky he’d drown, have a few more seconds to regret his decision.

It was said that a lot of people regretted their choice, but that has only been told by the ones who had survived. The ones who managed to either fight or fuck up. No one ever hears about the ones who wished to die and succeeded, the ones who felt euphoria as life came to a sweet end. The freedom, the return of colors.

The wind was brisk and ushered him forward, the rain cold but not hard enough to make him shut his eyes. Jayce looked out to the horizon, watching as the river below grew wider. He had known the depths once, when he had shown interest in the world around him.

Before it turned grey.

By some act of fate, Jayce turned and looked ahead of him, seeing a figure not too far ahead in the distance on the other side of the railing. Jayce paused, his breath catching as he realized that as he debated his own mortality, his own death and its freedom, that he was about to witness someone else take the plunge.

The figure on the other side of the railing is wearing a baggy grey sweatshirt, a hood pulled over their head but Jayce could still tell their stature. This person was smaller than him, leaning against the railing with a blanket bundled in a tight grasp in their arms. 

Jayce’s breath had caught and then his blood ran cold, it dawned on him that the bundle was moving a bit, that there was a gentle cry of a baby coming from it. The wind picks up, pushing the hood backwards on the figure standing on the edge of life and death and Jayce takes a few slow steps forward. 

The man is beautiful but frail, his brunette hair wisping violently in his face with the wind. Jayce can tell he’s been crying and his face carries clear signs of violence. One of his eyes is swollen, purple and black, an open cut upon his lips along with marks on his jaw and neck. Red and pink, yellow and splotchy. Jayce can’t see much from here, but he could see just enough. 

The colors returned, bright in the darkness and streaks of rain. Something primal wanted to know the color of this man’s eyes, to ask what had happened, to listen to his sorrows and soothe his tears. 

The pendulum swings, the void’s calls give way to the sound of rain, the sound of tears melting with it. His feet start moving faster than his mind does, the void pulls her hands back and watches in apprehension, with curiosity. Jayce is close enough to hear the man whispering to the baby, to hear the way his voice hitches with a sob. There are apologies there, a pleading of forgiveness for the actions that he’s about to commit. 

Jayce watches as the man tightens his hold on the bundle in his arms, leans forward to kiss it before he pushes himself away from the railing. He leans forward awkwardly, his weight unsteady on one side as he tilts, a cane that had been resting beside him tips with this movement and plummets into the water below.

The stranger pauses, looking down as his body leans forward, his hips shifting in an attempt to adjust the weight of himself and the baby. There’s a moment of consideration, Jayce can see it, this would be the moment to speak, to stop whatever is about to happen from happening.

The man had gotten farther than Jayce and showed hesitation. That hesitation was just enough for Jayce to see that there was something in there. Something for the hopeless to cling too.

“Am I interrupting?” Jayce speaks up, he’s only a few feet away, his elbows resting on the railing as he looks over to the man, hoping he didn’t startle him into the fall.

The young man flinches, his weight shifting backwards as he hits the railing again, he shrinks in upon himself. The shame on his face is blatant, the fear mixed with a silent resolution. This man, Viktor, is stuck now. His cane decided to jump first and now if he wanted to run back, he’d have to limp or drag himself and his newborn back.

Back to a living hell, jumping would be easier.

But jumping wasn’t fair, not to him, not to his unnamed daughter.

Viktor wanted to live, to thrive.

He didn’t want to die, he surely didn’t want his daughter, his very own flesh to die either.

But Viktor was so incredibly tired, but as it appeared, so was the man who had called out to him. Viktor examined the man whose arms leaned over the railing, he appeared to be an alpha but he was too far away and drenched to be able to smell the difference.

The baby in his arms cries louder, shaking him from his silent examination as he looks back down to her. Her face is red, but she doesn’t shiver. Viktor had done a good job at bundling her up, of making sure the rain kept out of her face.

Only a few days old, nameless.

She’d die nameless. Unknown to the world. Met only by him and the void.

Tears stung his eyes once more, he didn’t know what colors her eyes would settle to be. Would they become amber like his or would they reflect the terrible thing that was her father? Father wasn’t the correct name for that beast.

“I can take the baby,” Jayce’s hand is on the railing, bringing Viktor back. His eyes are on Viktor as he steps slowly towards him, “If you wanna go…they don’t need to join you too.”

Usually he’s hyper vigilant, but he didn’t notice this stranger approach.

It feels like he’d been shot, Viktor stands up a little straighter, he wants to throw up. A sick acceptance that he was destined to die, that this baby could have purpose and dreams and be free from the cursed life he lived. That he could jump in solitude. It hurt him but he agreed with this stranger, he didn’t want her to die like this. One of the things that Viktor was afraid of, was her dying second to him, dying afraid and not in his arms, drifting away.

If the impact didn’t kill her, her little lungs would fill with water.

Viktor looks from his baby to Jayce, he’s silent at first, noticing how he creeps closer. This man looks at him with sincerity, his eyes wide and calm. His shoulders are broad and he’s well dressed yet oddly placed on this bridge at this hour.

“If…” Viktor swallows hard, this was his chance to be a good parent. To relinquish her, the little thing he grew and protected despite every kick, every punch. He loved her, yet he hated the noose her birth had tied around his neck.

But it hadn’t been her fault, she didn’t know that Viktor stood on a chair with a shadow preparing to kick it from under him. This little girl, gentle and perfect, didn’t know. She only knew her instincts, that he had birthed her, fed her, and scented her since she entered this cruel world. 

If this baby lives, she can’t go back to her biological father, their abuser. Viktor would have to trust this possible alpha, this strange man, would take her somewhere safe and not hurt her himself. But, wasn’t he himself about to kill her?

Perhaps Viktor was being hypocritical, but he was nearly ready to take that risk. If she could be free from everything, from them.

Viktor couldn’t lie, he loved her. Fallen in love with her between the waves of uncertainty and fear. Half of his heart went to her after he labored with her for nearly a day on his own.

This sweet little seedling, a little star.

The only reason he kept going until now.

“If you take her,” He spoke with an accent, gentle in the wind, “Drop her off at the fire station…”

Relinquish her to the system. Keep her away from the bastard who had part in creating her. Viktor knew, though, that if he had died and the baby lived, the beast would not go hunting her. Her only use to him was a tool, a way to keep Viktor in place to continue to hurt him again and again.

“Okay?” his voice cracked.

“Okay,” Jayce’s eyes were filled with sincerity, but he had already planned his next move.

“Promise me,” Viktor felt stupid, asking a stranger to make such a large promise.

“I promise,” Jayce responds, stepping behind Viktor with his arms out.

Viktor doesn’t know why he trusts this stranger, but he turns slightly, leaning against the railing with his better hip as he hands his daughter over. There isn’t a final kiss goodbye, nothing else that would make it any harder for him to jump. The lack of weight in his arms doesn’t feel like relief, it just feels like less of a reason to wait any longer.

She could be saved, he would be hunted.

But Viktor shouldn’t have trusted this stranger, because the man carefully takes his daughter into his hold before he quickly wraps an arm around him. The man cradles his daughter to his chest and neck, supporting her head while his entire arm manages to fight around Viktor and pulls him back over the railing. With such a close proximity, Jayce is able to confirm the person’s was pulling over the railing was an omega.

Viktor screams, he puts his hands against the muscular arm around him and kicks. He kicks and screams, he just wanted to go, he just wanted to jump. He was ready to jump, he had made up his mind, gotten over his fear and made the resolution. 

But even when Viktor screams, it’s gentle, it’s not much of a scream but a gasp of agony. He hadn’t been loud before, but the volume of his opinion had been beaten out of him. It’s muffled by a sob, his body shaking as he is pulled over and pulled into a tight hug.

One that didn’t feel as suffocating as it should have.

“You don’t understand,” Viktor cries, his legs going numb as they buckle, “you don’t understand.”

“Maybe I can,” Jayce whispers, pulling the now screaming newborn closer back into Viktor’s arms, “give me a chance?”

Viktor doesn’t remember the last time someone held him gently or whispered encouraging words. Even when he had given birth alone, in a one bedroom apartment in Zaun. The only thing that had encouraged him, was knowing that if he gave up, the baby would die. Ironic that just a few days later, he would be so set on killing them both. He felt guilty, endlessly for making the choice and now he felt foolish for trusting this man. Viktor’s life had been a string of disappointments from men, alphas, he had no reason to trust this one. But something inside him was drawn to him.

“She’s cold,” Viktor shivers, looking down to his unnamed daughter, “she’s cold.” He repeated.

Jayce stood up, his hand hooked around Viktor’s waist and hip to stand him up, feeling as his body grew weak upon standing. From pulling Viktor over the railing and holding him close, Jayce can feel the swell of his abdomen along with a general idea of how old the baby was. He tastes iron as he bites down in his cheek, this omega had recently given birth. 

It was disgusting how people acted, blaming instinct or just because.

Viktor clings to his daughter and without his cane, the only thing he can rely on is Jayce. He hates it but has been so used to relinquishing his power to his abuser that he lets himself be moved. The only difference here is the man doesn’t push him, instead lending him support to move on his own. So against his better judgement he leans on him and limps wherever he leads them.

The walk is short, Viktor hadn’t made it to the middle of the bridge and neither had Jayce. At Jayce’s car he opens the door to help Viktor inside, before he closes the door and goes to the driver's side. He gets in and sits down, there is silence as Vitkor calms the crying baby in a language he doesn’t recognize. 

She’s cold, Jayce remembers as he pulls his keys from his pocket and thrusts them into the ignition.

The rain patters against the car’s exterior and the heat kicks on. The two are drenched but as Viktor reveals the baby's face from the blanket, she’s dry. Viktor presses his nose against the baby’s before doing the same with his forehead. He’s apologizing and begging for forgiveness.

Jayce knows that he can’t ask Viktor where he lives, it’s clear that would lead to a continuation of whatever cycle he found himself in. So he sits in silence, waiting as the baby’s cries stop and Viktor’s speaking comes to a halt. Only then, does Jayce look towards Viktor and his lips part to speak.

But Viktor cuts him off, speaking before a sound can leave his throat, “You were going to jump,” He looks through his eye lashes, turning barely to look in Jayce’s direction, “weren’t you?”

Jayce hadn’t expected to be so easy to read, he never had been. His mother and an old therapist said he was a tough nut to crack, but apparently not at this moment. He sighs, one hand is on the wheel and the other is now pressing to his temple.

“Ah, yeah…I was,” Jayce could have lied, but it appeared the evidence proved otherwise.

Viktor wonders if Jayce would have stopped him if he hadn’t had the baby in his arms, but he doesn’t say a word. He’s thankful that his daughter is given a chance, but he himself doesn’t feel any better about it. He was a bonded omega and postpartum, the separation sickness would begin and he would wither away regardless.

“What’s your name?” 

“It’s Viktor,” now he turns to look at the man fully, examining his features up close without the hindrance of the rain, “Yours?”

He looked like a man who hadn’t known hunger, someone whose shirt must have been pressed before he decided to make an attempt on his own life. Viktor knew he couldn’t judge, they each had their own struggles, but it was interesting to see how different their lives could appear while they both headed the call of the void.

The pendulum slows.

“Jayce, what about your baby?”

“She…doesn’t have a name,” the answer makes him feel a great deal of shame.

“How old is she?”

Viktor blinks, “Two or three days….” his head is starting to hurt, “Depends on the time…”

“10:45pm.”

“Three days,” It shouldn’t have taken Viktor that long to realize it, the baby was born when the sun was out and that had long since set. After being in fight or flight for so long, the comfort of the seat and warm air was forcing his body to relax, to become present to how he was feeling, to what he was experiencing.

A sharp pain was behind his eye and his womb, he grit his teeth together in an attempt to breath through it. Each pain separate yet equally as demoralizing. His entire body was wet, his chest swollen and sore. She would need to eat soon, he needed a place to feed her.

Viktor hadn’t expected to need to do this again.

“Viktor?” Jayce spoke with concern, he had been speaking but Viktor had been focused on the pains in his body to register it.

He jumps slightly, flinches at the sound of his words before he looks over to him sheepishly. Viktor wants to scream, to cry when he looks at the sincerity in the man’s eyes. How he indirectly stopped him from killing himself as well.

“Y-yes?”

“I…I have a guest room,” Jayce looks at the steering wheel, “Or I can take you home.”

“Ha, going back…you might as well let me jump,” Viktor scoffed, his lip lifting slightly as he felt his own fang against his lips. A home wouldn’t force an omega to grow milk fangs, the word was foreign and felt bitter on his tongue. He hadn’t known the word in tears.

“My place it is then, unless there is someone else I can take you to?”

“No,” Viktor’s voice is small. “No where else.”

They drive in silence, Viktor holds his newborn carefully, examining her face and looking for any sign of her shivering. She’d need to be bathed, to be fed and changed. She’d need a lot of things that he currently didn’t have nor have access too. Tears well in his eyes once more, he was a failure of a parent the moment he chose to keep her.

There hadn’t been any doubts that Jayce lived within Piltover, not when his car was nice and clean and his clothing was new. Viktor wasn’t surprised when they pulled up to a small house nestled just on the outskirts of the business of the city.

Jayce got out of the car while Viktor unbuckled himself and cradled his daughter close, right as he was about to open the door himself, it swung open. The rain continued to fall but Jayce stood there holding an umbrella for him.

Viktor looks up at him slowly, seeing a goofy little smile on the suicidal man’s face. It appeared that one was intending to jump into an icy river, one doesn’t need to carry an umbrella to the scene. Slowly he puts his legs out of the car, pursing his lips now as he places the smallest bit of weight onto his legs.

Without saying a word, Jayce places an arm around Viktor’s back and leans him into him. Viktor doesn’t need to remind him or ask for assistance for Jayce to remember that he didn’t have his cane.

As silent as the car ride went, Jayce helps Viktor into his home before seating him in a chair in the entryway. Viktor sits ridged in the chair, the smell of cedarwood and amber encapsulates him. This place is saturated with the smell of an alpha he doesn’t know, it should worry him or sicken him; but it hasn't happened yet.

The pendulum swings, but not fully, stopping in the middle before being ricocheted back to one side. It ticks at a shortened pace, but for now it’s consistent. Viktor listens to it as he stares down at his daughter, her soft cheeks, her long eyelashes. He wonders if she looks more like himself or Hector, he isn’t sure what he’d prefer.

“Hold on,” Jayce kicks his shoes off before running out of the foyer and down a hall, coming back quickly with a slight look of excitement, in his hand is a cane, its main body silver with a burnt red handle, “All yours!”

“Thank you,” Viktor takes the cane, placing it on the ground before he places a little bit of weight on it. The height isn’t quite right for him, but it will do for now. Slowly he stands and takes a tentative step, his eyes searching around the foyer for a place to put his shoes.

The baby in his arms starts to cry, she’s hungry. Viktor feels the milk seeping from his nipples, stuck against the wet inside of his clothing. He almost feels helpless in this situation, he’s fed her a few times but he has no idea if he’s doing it well, going only on instinct and hoping for the best. 

There had been little joy in feeding her on the floor of their dirty apartment, her father cursing him out from the other room. A cup had been thrown at them, Viktor had lifted his arm just in time to swipe it out of the way.

“I need to feed her,” Viktor states, his voice is raw and fragile.

Jayce nods and starts back down the hall, “Don’t worry about your shoes, follow me.”

Viktor does so, hoping that her crying won’t trigger Jayce into a rage. Fearful of him raising his voice or even his hand, Viktor stays a few healthy steps behind him. One door down, Jayce opens the door and turns the light on, pushing the door open.

The room is a basic guestroom, yet so much larger than the main bedroom in Viktor’s apartment. This room held a queen size bed with blankets and pillows, a dresser and a desk. There are two doors, one leading to a closet and the other leading to an attached bathroom.

“There are towels in the bathroom, I’ll grab some dry clothing for you…” Jayce then thinks about the baby, lifting his finger to his nose as he considers the options for her, “I’ll think of something for her, okay?”

“Thank you,” Viktor stepped into the room, not caring to close the door as he placed the baby on the bed.

The door closed anyway, Viktor turns to see it closed. A man who respected privacy may not be a man who respected freedom, swallowing hard Viktor goes to the door and gently turns the handle, ensuring that he could still leave. Clothes sit outside the room as promised, Viktor grabs them with one hand and returns into the room.

His baby cries a little louder now and Viktor sniffs hard, the hormones are leaving him a sobbing mess. The kindness of a stranger wasn’t making it any better either.

“I’m here,” Viktor whispers, he doesn’t want to wet the bed with his clothes, so he places a hand upon her chest, “One moment, I’m here.”

Tears are streaming down his face, his entire body aches. Stripping down he changes into the new clothing, despite his swollen belly the pants are still large. Even when he was full term, his  body didn’t fill out as it should have during his pregnancy. He could get past the swelling of his stomach, the slight widening of his hips. Those had never been things that made him feel any less of a man. But his small breasts, usually flat and easy to hide, swelling with milk made him feel more dysphoria than puberty.

The body that grew his precious seedling, gave birth to this lovely shining star, was one that he couldn’t bear to look at. Not when the echo of Hector berates him even now. He’s sobbing now, crawling onto the bed as he takes his daughter out of the wet blanket, she’s still dry underneath and her body is warm, how he isn’t sure.

“I’m sorry,” Viktor holds her close, pressing their skin against one another as his shoulders heave with sobs, “I’m so sorry.”

Carefully he secures her to his chest, her lips latch onto his nipple with ease and he lays against the pillows and headboard. His head is pounding, his lower body in utter agony. There had been blood in his pants and there likely would be blood in these pants as well. It was humiliating to bleed in the clothes of a stranger, in his guest bed. 

Had Viktor known that he’d end up here, he would have gathered supplies to make himself a suitable guest. But there hadn’t been a single consideration that he wouldn’t have jumped, that he would end up anywhere other than in the river.

What made it worse, was knowing that Viktor had to plan for tomorrow. Decisions would have to be made, whether he would keep or relinquish his daughter and no matter how much he thought giving her up was the best… the idea killed him. It made his chest tighten. 

Jayce’s kindness would be for the night, nothing more. After this, Viktor would be on his own. The best case scenario: Viktor leaves her at a fire department, returns to the bridge and jumps. The worst case scenario: he leaves her at the fire department and returns to his abusive mate, gets beaten for having their daughter go missing, and dies a painful death.

Separation sickness would come for Viktor, he knew that from the last time he tried to leave. It was a miserable way to die and Viktor felt that at some point in his life, he needed something kind. A death at his own hand would have been kind, yet a stranger whose actions were kinder, sent him deeper into emotional turmoil.

Viktor has to admit though, the bed he sits in is warm and soft and the sound of the rain sounds so much nicer through the walls of a well insulated home. The day had been stressful for himself along with his daughter. Once she has her fill and burps her, he scents her the best he can, hoping that he doesn’t smell sour or bitter. That what he feels, what others might smell, doesn’t transfer to his own flesh and blood.

Pleading with himself that he smells like comfort, love, and home.

Chapter 2: A Third Road, A Fourth

Notes:

Managed to squeeze this chapter in despite being busy and stressed as hell.
Thank you to everyone for your comments and support, I hope you love this chapter as much as the first!

After Jayce had seen himself out, he followed through on his original promise, gathering clothes that he hoped would come close to fitting Viktor before leaving them at the door. The smallest pair of sweat pants he owns, a shirt, a sweatshirt, a pair of boxers and socks. Whatever could warm the frail man’s shivering form, Jayce could see the outlines through the hoodie, his thin wrists. 

One thing he couldn’t do was change the way his clothes smelt like himself, no matter how deep they say stay in his drawers nor how many times they could have been washed, they’d be saturated with his pheromones. While Jayce was at work or in public, he would either patch or keep himself restrained, at home he didn’t feel that there was a reason to.

Ximena didn’t think it was the best idea, saying that it could cause trouble or intimidate any omega that came over. Yet it never once bothered any of his friends; omega, beta, alpha. None of them had ever made a comment or scrunched their nose, but none of those people had been single. It was unfortunate for Jayce that all of his friends had been mated or in a relationship, growing families or choosing to remain childless. They each took their steps while Jayce remained stuck in place.

Being a mated omega, smothered in the scent of another alpha could spell trouble. Not only if they ran into Viktor’s mate, but also for Viktor himself, as long as Jayce kept it friendly. A mated omega could become ill under the sex pheromones of another alpha, luckily for them both, Jayce’s rut was a ways away and that smell wasn’t soaked into the fibers of the clothes.

At the bridge Jayce had been respectful, not allowing his eyes to stare as the wet fabric pressed against his abdomen nor his chest. The only thing that Jayce had noticed, other than the bruising and the clues given in the context of their meeting, was Viktor’s leg. How it tilted awkwardly and didn’t seem able to hold much weight and how he walked with a distinct limp.

A brace was something he could make, he had the supplies and he had done something similar on a smaller scale before. Synapses in his brain were lighting up, constant fireworks exploding in different directions as he thought about what his next steps would be. But that shouldn’t have been the next step and he knew that, slowing down his engineering brain, he walked it backwards. 

Like his therapist had tried to teach him countless times, think of what is current, think of the most pressing matter and get it done. Whether that stiff of a man was right, Jayce didn’t stick around long enough to figure out, but he sometimes practiced the few things he had in his toolbox.

While he had clothing for Viktor, an adult, he had nothing for an infant let alone one that hadn’t even been a week old. His steps slowed as he gripped onto his clothing, the weight wasn’t as heavy as the baby girl, but wasn’t that far from. His arms had only felt her for a fleeting moment, her incredibly light and fragile body. 

Baby Girl would only have that wet blanket and whatever Jayce provided. She couldn’t have been more than ten pounds. Pups needed to be warm , hell, pups needed so much more than what he was able to provide. A safe place to exist was the first step, but he knew it wasn’t enough, Viktor knew it wasn’t enough. That’s why Viktor left whatever situation that he was in.

And despite her weight, no matter how small she was, she had been fierce and a distinct entity that had intercepted the void. If Viktor had asked him to hold her again, he would without a second of hesitation. That time, if he was given such a moment, he would look down at the little face that stopped him from jumping. Memorizing the curve of her eyelids and the shape of her nose, he’d look at her to remember, because time would change her and fate would part them. But for a moment he’d like to engrain her face into his, just as he would like to do the same to Viktor.

Jayce didn’t expect to get that chance again, he had already overstepped his boundaries and he wouldn’t do it a second time. He’d already lied to Viktor under the guise of helping him, that trust would be difficult to earn back, even if it did save his life.

I didn’t save his life, Jayce caught himself as he walked back to the foyer of his home.

All he had done was stop Viktor from answering the call of the void and taking his daughter with him, it was clear that he was struggling just as much as Jayce had been. There wouldn’t be any saving until he was happy, until he was healthy, until he was able to live again and Jayce knew that. He knew it because he was living it, not dying but being thrown back into suffering was not saving.

But there were many differences between the two, stark differences that made it hard to even compare their struggles on a surface level. Jayce wanted to inquire, to ask and listen, but it was not his place. The curiosity was there, but so was respect.

Tomorrow was unknown, but he could make tonight a little more predictable. A little safer.

Turning back, Jayce went back to the doorway of the guest room and pressed his head against the door. The door was thick but he could still hear Viktor’s stifled cries, the gentle pleading along with the scent of milk and lavender creaking through the cracks of the door. It shouldn’t have affected him, yet it made Jayce’s shoulders relax. The anxiety that the two were going to slide through his fingers like sand, vanished as he shut his eyes and took a steady breath. 

Viktor wasn’t in a good place, but he was still doing what he could to bring comfort to his daughter. Despite it all, he was able to release the scent of calm and comfort, even if his heart had been broken.

“Viktor?” Jayce spoke low and gently knocked on the door, “I’m going to grab a few things for the baby, alright?”

A muffled sniffle, followed by Viktor clearing his throat, “Ah…no need.. We’ll be out of your hair by tomorrow.”

“Then…just for tonight?” 

The thought returned again, his desire to inquire; to ask Viktor what his plan was for the next day, to ask about the bruises on his face, his desire to die. He knew that it wasn’t his place to ask, but he couldn’t help himself. The weight of that little girl in his arms, the weight of Viktor himself, in his arms. If Jayce didn’t help, their weights would only be added to his shoulders.

He’d ruminated on the weight of the baby, but Viktor’s had been all the more pronounced in his arm. His body was light, despite the swell of a deflating belly, his body frail. Jayce hadn’t had long to look at the omega, not wanting to frighten him off. 

Maybe he had a hero complex, that wasn’t something that he was ready to deny yet, but he couldn’t leave them to suffer on their own. 

Viktor was silent on the other end of the doorway, on one hand he didn’t want to trouble Jayce while on the other, he didn’t want to deny his daughter any possible assistance. She was his priority. He could not allow her to sleep in filth, if she was going to be given up, he at least needed to ensure his last few hours with her were filled with love.

If she would be gone tomorrow, he needed to bathe her in love and soak in her scent. Enjoy what could have been, pretending that this place wasn’t just a guest room. It would make parting with her more painful but he needed to cling onto something.

“Alright.” 

Jayce turns on his heel and leaves as quickly as he can, not giving Viktor a chance to change his mind despite knowing that he wouldn’t. There was something inside Jayce that felt a tinge of guilt, he was forcing Viktor to experience one more night. He knew that Viktor might end up right back at that bridge.

Because the pendulum swings and Jayce knows he himself will end up there again.

At the store he fills his cart, even if they are only staying for the night, Jayce wants to ensure that Viktor has supplies to take with him. His hand is glued to his phone as he is googling things people need right after having a baby. 

Part of him wants to call his friend Mel, one of his closest and best friends, who was an attending OBGYN. Her knowledge was extensive and she would without a doubt help him, he knew that she would wonder what he was up to. She knew him well enough to know that Jayce wouldn’t have gotten anyone pregnant, but not enough to know what he had done. Instead he stuck to google and reddit, looking for anything that was reliable. 

Some staples Jayce discovered had been: nutritious foods, diapers for the birther and the baby, some clothing for each. He wants to get a carseat, but he doesn’t know if Viktor has a car. When they got into his, Jayce had been sitting in too much shock to even ask. 

The pendulum swings and he pictures the car seat in the back of his car. Quickly he shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose to shake the thought out of his head. It was extreme, even for him, to imagine taking in that little girl. The thought floats away and he returns to shopping.

Jayce has to remind himself multiple times that it was only for one night, that he didn’t need a baby monitor or a crib. What he did get was a nice diaper bag for Viktor, which he could fill or give away.

And he might have splurged on a little pack-n-play for her to sleep in.

Just for the night.

While in line he begins to look up local Omega shelters, calling to see if they were willing to take one more and a newborn the next day. Most of them were full or were unable to take in a baby that little, but he did find a few. This was for one night and he knew the next day would leave Viktor with even harder decisions.

If Viktor insisted on leaving, if Viktor actually wanted this baby, Jayce would suggest these places tomorrow. Jayce knew he was overstepping, but he didn’t think that Viktor truly wanted to get rid of his daughter.

Yes, Viktor wanted a better life for her and yes he was terrified of that, but Jayce heard the way he spoke to her. There was love filling those words and while sometimes the greatest thing you can do in life is let go, if given the support and help, maybe that didn’t have to happen.

 Jayce had changed his entire plan and he fully planned to do that again, he wanted to give him as many resources as possible to avoid jumping off that bridge.

He pinches himself, reminding himself once more that he was dreaming too big.

The cart is far too full for one night, but the fireworks keep bursting behind his eyes. He checks out and goes home, quietly carrying everything into the house. The rain has slowed to a gentle shower, the breeze is gentle. It’s spring.

The bags are set in the living room, he places a few on the coffee table and begins to organize them. If this had been his baby, his omega, he would have packed the diaper bag himself, but he was already lacing them with his scent. Viktor would be safe from other alphas with that, but he would be worse off from his mate.

Viktor’s bond mark didn’t look normal, it looked raised and red, as though his body was rejecting it. Jayce wasn’t sure if that was possible, but he hoped that it was. That one day Viktor could free himself from the monster that had hurt him. 

Jayce creeps silently down the hall and to the bedroom, he presses on the door gently, “Viktor?” he whispers, not wanting to wake the baby.

There’s no response, but he feels his heart rapping against his chest as anxiety clenches him. Walking in was an invasion of privacy, he knew that, but that had happened the moment denied the void of Viktor. There was no turning back now.

Slowly he pushed the door open, feeling relief when he saw Viktor asleep with the baby at his side, for a moment he thought they were gone. To where, he wouldn’t have known. Not wanting to wake either of them, he slowly closed the door and went back into the living room, sitting on the couch as he looked at his impulsive purchases.

Newborns woke up frequently and needed to be fed, so he could always set up the place for her to sleep, prepare her clothes and change supplies for when she did. It felt a little creepy, waiting for the baby to cry to knock on the door again, but if he didn’t do that, then Viktor would have to do everything alone while the baby continued to sit in her filth. It seemed clear that Viktor wasn’t going to ask for help.

 He’s silent as he unboxes the pack and play and carefully read the instructions, if Viktor can’t take this with him, then Jayce would at least have it for whenever Caitlyn and Vi had their first pup. He works in silence, not tired in the slightest. The instructions are easy and he ensures that it’s safe enough before he sits back on the couch.

At first he tries to close his eyes to rest, but that only lasts fifteen minutes before he’s drawing a new type of pack and playing in the notebook he has on his coffee table. One thing about his house was that there were multiple sketchbooks and notebooks. Though they might seem randomly placed, they were incredibly organized and well thought out. Jayce knew which idea was in which book and where it was.

His main book was in his workbag, that one was carried with him at all times, it carried his largest, most fleshed out designs and ideas. If anything left the idea stage, he’d workshop it in there. His idea had finally taken shape on the page when he heard the baby begin to cry. Leaving the book open for later he grabbed a few things and carried them along with the pack and play, standing awkwardly outside the doorway as he waited for Viktor to stir.

Again Viktor whispers to her in what Jayce assumes is Czech, he sounds exhausted. He’s nervous to knock, but he does anyway.

“Y-yes?” Viktor’s voice shakes, he’s going to cry again.

Pregnancy hormones must be a bitch. The baby is crying, she needs to be changed and fed. Jayce can feel the stress through the door, the drowning feeling of being so incredibly overwhelmed.

“I have a few things, can I uh…come in?”

“It’s your house.”

“Can I come in?” Jayce repeats, house or not, it currently wasn’t his room.

“Yes.”

Jayce opens the door, the room is dark save for the moonlight coming in through the window. Viktor is sitting up on the bed, the bags under his eyes are deep as he picks up his daughter. Upon seeing Jayce with his arms full of supplies, Viktor’s eyes start to water again. He feels so incredibly useless as a parent.

Viktor’s scent is creeping towards Jayce, he’s anxious and stressed, terrified and exhausted. It’s all clear, that calming feeling from before was gone as the baby cries in his arms. Jayce can see it on Viktor’s face, he’s feeling inadequate, he’s feeling guilty, he feels like he wants to die again. The void is whispering from the corners of the room, but Viktor doesn’t have a place to answer her call.

“Hey,” Jayce brings the pack and plays closer, putting it down before he walks closer to the bed. Jayce doesn’t sit on it, noticing the arrangements upon it look like the world's saddest nest, “It’s going to be alright.”

“How can you say that?” the baby cries louder and Viktor’s hands are shaking, “You don’t know that. You don’t know a damn thing.”

“You’re right, I don’t know anything but…I can learn. I can also help. Feed her, then I’ll change and dress her, it’ll give you a moment to rest,” Jayce kneels down beside the bed, his hands on his lap as he looks up to this stranger. 

“Do you doubt me?” Viktor hisses, his voice cracks, he asks because he doubts himself.

He’s a failure of a parent, a mother, a father. He should have jumped eight months ago.

“No,” Jayce put his hands behind his back, “My dad died when I was little, I wasn’t as small as her, but I know how hard it was for my mom to raise me alone.”

Viktor watches as he shrinks himself and closes his eyes, the baby is still crying and so is he. His breasts are leaking once more and his body aches . He’s not in the state to be able to do it all on his own, he had for two days and it had been the hardest thing he had ever encountered.

“Fine…”

Jayce’s eyes light up with a nod, “I’ll grab everything, let me know when I can come back in, okay?” 

Again, Jayce gives them privacy and Viktor’s thoughts are moving a mile a minute. He unbuttons the nightshirt he’s wearing and begins to feed his daughter, her cries are soothed as he stares down at the little bed beside him.

Since Viktor could remember, he wanted to have his own family with someone who loved him. He dreamt of a mate who was excited for them to have pups, who was kind to him during the pregnancy and after. He’d been starved of that dream and seeing that single piece of furniture felt like a stab to the chest.

Hector hadn’t been the one to set it up, he’d never once acted as though he was excited that they were expecting. Viktor couldn’t make it to many doctors appointments, but the few he did he went alone. The ultrasound photos he had given to Hector as a surprise had been thrown out in the garbage disposal. Viktor had a second set hidden in his room, deep down he had expected this to happen.

After that, Hector’s hands were rougher, an unpleasant reminder that he was going to become a parent. How Viktor hadn’t miscarried, he didn’t know, but her birth was traumatic when he had longed for it to be supportive and typical.

Yet a stranger had been the one to send it up, to show kindness and offer help. Viktor needed the hormones to flush out of his body, he was tired of crying.

As he feeds her, he can feel Jayce return, a chair is dragged across the floor and placed in the hallway where he sits. Viktor had never met an alpha so incredibly respectful, then again, he wasn’t allowed to meet many.

It’s frustrating how patient Jayce is in his own home. How he hasn’t raised his voice or hand. Viktor had forgotten that people could be kind.

“Jayce?” Viktor calls, he isn’t decent, the baby is still feeding, but he calls to him anyway. Viktor doesn’t understand why he is able to let his guard down,

“Yeah?”

Jayce is there, right outside the door when he doesn't have to be. He’s waiting just as he said he was.

“Thank you.”

Even though this is short term, Viktor is grateful. When the baby is done feeding Viktor fixes his shirt and calls Jayce back in. He already has a baby towel on his shoulder, he takes her in her messy glory and holds her over his shoulder to burp. 

“Do you want to wash up?” Jayce asks as he single handedly looks through the bag for supplies for the baby, “Oh ah,” Jayce turns to look at Viktor, “Has she had her first bath? I can clean her up but…”

Jayce didn’t know much, but he knew how important firsts were to parents.

Viktor pushes himself to the edge of the bed, watching how naturally Jayce falls into this paternal role. There hadn’t been any signs that Jayce had experience with children, but it was nearly impossible to know with an Alpha. He swallows hard as he grabs the cane and stands up. Straightening his back before Jayce, it’s hard, but he does it.

“She has,” Viktor knows it’s pointless to confirm if all of this is alright with Jayce and at this point, he needs to accept the help.

“Oh! I got these for you,” Jayce grabs a larger package out of the bag and hands it to Viktor, “I fell down a rabbit hole and figured since she’s only three days old you might need them.”

Viktor accepts the package with one hand, putting most of his weight on his cane, a bad habit of his. Looking down, he stares in mild confusion over what was just handed to him. In no instance, did he ever expect to be holding this item in his lifetime.

The package reads: Adult Diapers .

Even though it made the cuts on his face sting, the bruises on his cheeks ache a smile tugged on each of Viktor’s lips. It’s absurd, it’s hilarious, it’s incredibly personal and awkward. The tears in his eyes hadn’t dried and again flowed freely, so he reached a hand up to wipe them away as he started to laugh.

It’s low and gentle, Jayce stops and looks at Viktor with awe.

Despite those bruises, despite the markings on his face, Viktor is laughing with tears running down his cheeks. A little bit of blood gathers in the places where his muscles pull back at fresh wounds, but he laughs unrestrained and freely. A hand goes in front of his mouth as though to hide it, he’s shying away and attempting to be polite, he’s trying to hide Jayce from something that was incredibly beautiful.

Jayce’s eyes are wide and he feels a flutter in his chest, he wants to see Viktor laugh like this again but with a face that was healthy and whole. With cuts healed and bruises gone, with his cheeks full and pink. He notices them now, the moles on Viktor’s face, from here he can count three of them. The impulsivity had luckily dwindled by now, otherwise Jayce would have reached forward and likely startled the poor man.

“Are they wrong?” 

Viktor’s face sombers, there’s a look of uncertainty and shame as he realizes he just laughed in his face, “It’s just…” Viktor blinks slowly, pursing his lips before he looks back down to the package, “you bought me diapers. Diapers. ”

Hector would have beat him silent.

Now Jayce is smiling, his cheeks pink with embarrassment, “Oh my god, I’m sorry I was throwing everything I saw into the cart and I thought it was a good idea! If it made you uncomfortable-“

“It’s actually,” Viktor holds the package with two hands, “thoughtful. Weird, but I don’t know… I don’t know anyone who would even consider this. Very personal, but not…unwarranted.”

Something about Viktor’s smile was magnetic, stirring Jayce closer. The idea to reach out and touch his face, to shift some of the hair behind his ear overcame him but he shut it down. God the thought kept cycling back, Jayce wanted to see Viktor in the light again.

“I’ll get her washed up,” Jayce steps backwards, his eyes going down to the baby in his arms as he memorizes each millimeter of her face. Tomorrow he might not get the chance, so he scuddles off with her in his arms. 

As the door closes behind Jayce, Viktor feels his body nearly give out, his body slowly decompressing from being wound so tightly. While he trusted this man, his body was still in fight or flight mode, waiting for the clock to strike, waiting for his hand to raise and swing. Closing his eyes he allows himself a moment of grace, to recenter himself and attempt to make his feet move. The baby is no longer in his arms, she’s with someone who seems to be safe. Someone that he trusts, oddly enough, to change her, to love her, to care for her. 

Gathering himself Viktor gets into the shower, new clothes prepped along with one of those damn adult diapers, they shouldn’t make him smile but they do. At least for now. In the shower he sits on the edge of it, letting his tears wash away with the water as he wills himself to stand up. 

A shower was harder than he could imagine and in the end, he settled with sitting on the floor of the shower. He longs for a chair or even a bath, but he can’t will himself to attempt something as luxurious as a bath. In his mind it wouldn’t be fair, it wouldn’t be right, it wouldn’t be what he was allowed.

Sitting there, his body begins to unwind, the spring that had been coiled so tightly loosens as he allows himself to sink into the tub. His breasts are sore, his nipples hurt, and the rest of his body still feels the same. Before all of this, before the hell that was his ‘love’ life, Viktor had planned to breast feed sparingly and eventually, get top surgery. Life swung the other way, colliding with a wall so thick that Viktor didn’t think it would return back to center. Between his legs is the worst, his abdomen and womb cramping every so often.

There’s a mirror in the shower and Viktor can see just how terrible he looks. One of his eyes is swollen, the bruises heavy along with the freshly bleeding cut. Some of the bruises on his body were a week old, some were just days. 

It didn’t matter that he was pregnant nor the fact he wasn’t full term, Hector’s wrath didn't matter. He tries to think how early she was, a week or two and if that was detrimental to her, if she’s broken just like him. He hadn’t always viewed himself like that and he certainly didn’t view others like that either, just his own worthless self. Viktor scrubs himself clean, his nails pick at the raised bond mark, he’s been doing that since he’d gotten it.

Hoping that he could help it reject, hoping that maybe he could escape this all.

It’d been fresh and it hadn’t been done out of love. It hadn’t been consensual, it could have been. At one point Viktor was head over heels in love with Hector, but after so many failed attempts to leave he found it fruitless. Viktor finds that if he thinks too much about what could have been, he spirals.

His eyes drift down for the scars on his legs and inner arms, the ones that he’d given himself in the past. He looks at his deflating belly, unloved and unkissed, held by no one but himself during nearly nine months of uncertainty. If he had a partner that loved him, that wanted this, he might have been a little upset that he didn’t fully pop like the rest. But maybe in a healthy relationship he would have been nourished enough to. 

Alas, Viktor didn’t look that much past six months even when he did give birth. Alone, terrified. Recalling it made it difficult to breathe, he should feel triumphant, he should feel proud of the feat he had overcome on his own. 

Instead he just felt unloved.

And underneath this layer of flesh were fractured bones that hadn’t healed right, partnered with a body that was born disabled.

The shower warms him, the suds take off the layer of rain, the blood and dirt and it allows him to smell the place at last instead of petrichor and himself. It doesn’t erase the feeling of the cold wind sharply kissing his face nor the rain whipping against it upon the bridge. He’d been two feet away from the end, the water had called to him and his hesitation led him here.

This home is lovely, nothing that he’d ever dream of having, at least not now in adulthood. It almost felt wrong for him to be here, maybe not his daughter, but for him. He was used, dirty, ugly and unlovable. A cunt to fuck at the whims of Hector and an outlet for his rage. Useless and stupid, despite his degree in Mathematical Engineering, despite his scholarships, despite the job offers he had declined. The fact that he was their chance from poverty, that he could do it but wasn’t allowed too.

A different life had been within his grasp.

Viktor hadn’t left on his own that day, he and the baby had been kicked out. A sharp pain makes him moan softly, his eyes clench shut before he feels something shift below him. Opening his eyes he looks down, moving his knees to look between his legs. Blood spills from between his legs, joining the water and traveling down the drain.

That was normal, right? 

It should be, why else would Jayce buy him diapers. Viktor didn’t have a phone nor access to the internet, he just assumed it made sense. The pain made sense, just as his entire life was a pain. He’s tired of crying, tired of longing for the end of this nightmare. Tired of the pitying eyes of strangers, at least the few he’d seen.

Jayce has been so kind, everything Viktor wished Hector was. He wished that man would leave his mind, an infection worming its way through his grey matter. A prion disease, eating away until there was nothing left. The separation sickness would start soon and it would feel like a bullet ripping through his brain, ricocheting off the inside of his skull.

Hector, Hector, Alpha.

His biggest mistake, his worst regret, his hell on earth.

But you deserve it , the sickness whispers.

But she does not, Viktor thinks.

And maybe, maybe that could be the positive thing he leaves behind. A girl who is still nameless, but a beacon in the dark.

Viktor wants to stay in the shower longer, to pretend that the life he’s experiencing isn’t so. But he can’t inconvenience Jayce like that, he steps out and changes, puts on one of those silly adult diapers and heads back into the room. Only now is Viktor able to smell Jayce’ scent, amber and cedarwood fills the air and warms his body. It was on the clothes he wore and the sheets he was laying in, by some miracle it didn’t raise the hair on the back of his neck. Instead it welcomed him into the room.

Neither Jayce nor his baby is in the room, with his cane in hand Viktor ventures out of the room, hesitating before he steps into the hallway before he follows the low hum of Jayce’s voice. He stops in the doorway, his eyes resting upon something that makes his chest grow warm.

Jayce is sitting on the couch, the baby laying on his chest and a book propped on his knee and held open with his other hand. Viktor listens as Jayce reads to his daughter about physics at less than a week old. The feeling in his chest erupts, Jayce has a slight smile on his face and the baby is content.

This is the life she deserves and Viktor is sure that the feeling in his chest, the feeling in his heart, is knowing that Jayce should be the one to raise her. 

“Do you want her?” Viktor speaks loudly, restraining any hint of emotion in his voice as he steps fully into the room.

Jayce had heard Viktor coming down the hall, felt his presence in the doorway and smelt him. In the chaos, Viktor was dripping of that milky scent, most likely one for his baby to smell and move towards. He hadn’t said hello, waiting for Viktor to speak on his own and hoping that he’d welcome himself into the living room.

What he hadn’t expected was to be asked if he wanted the newborn. 

“What?” Being surprised was an understatement, he was completely shocked, stopping to look at Viktor as he walked in.

Viktor walks in and sits on the couch, not close enough for their legs to touch, but close enough to look at his daughter. Jayce’s eyes follow Viktor, he had more of a reason to believe this wasn’t a joke given their circumstances.

Once Viktor sits, he continues, “It’s a big ask, but if not she’ll go to the fire department,” his eyes avoid Jayce’s, because asking this hurts.

“Viktor,” Jayce’s voice is gentle as he closes the book and places it beside him, one hand is on the back of the baby.

Viktor looks towards him, but doesn’t see his eyes, instead seeing just how large his hand is compared to her. A hand large enough to support her with minimal effort.

“Jayce,” Viktor sighs, “She seems comfortable with you.”

“Is that what you want?”

“It’s what is right.”

“Is that what you want? I’ve seen the way you look at her…” Jayce reaches to the coffee table beside him, he’d prepared an ice pack for Viktor, “You adore her.”

It’s wrapped in a thin towel with flowers sewn onto it, it’d been out a while waiting for him. Viktor takes it gingerly and presses it to his face.

“It’s not what I want, I want to love her. To raise her. but I can’t do that! She deserves so much more than I can give. A chance at a good life, stability, free from abuse,” Viktor meets his gaze now, his eyes filled with tears again, his heart is snapping into.

The spring is coiling in on itself again.

“But isn’t this a step towards that? Didn’t you decide to come here, to shower, to feed her all for that?” Jayce wants to offer the baby to Viktor, but his body is closed off, refusing.

“I didn’t have much of a choice. I was eh, swept off my feet," Viktor is staring intensely at Jayce, “But I have nothing, Jayce. The two roads diverged, both ending in death.”

Return to Hector, die.

Go to a shelter, get separation sickness, die.

“Let me help you. Stay here with me, the two of you. If the two roads will kill you, let me try making a third, a fourth,” Jayce can see the look on Viktor’s face, the one that is silently asking him why.

“I don’t know,” Jayce is honest, the baby burps and Jayce gently pulls her down to look at her after wiping her mouth, he stares at her with an unfamiliar adoration, “but we both were planning on taking our lives today. But this little Thunderclap cried louder than the rain, just in time. For both of us.”

“You offer a stranger a place in your home, what if I’m a murderer? A criminal? Trouble follows me, Jayce. My mat- my ex will find me if the separation sickness doesn’t kill me first,” Viktor scoots over though, looking down at his freshly fed baby girl.

Her face isn’t scrunched in a scream nor is it red, her eyes are closed and she’s content on Jayce’s lap. 

“There’s treatment for that, there’s a clinic for omegas we can go to-” Jayce tilts his body a little, shifts his lap so Viktor can get a better look at her. The movement is natural.

“With what money?”

Jayce motions to his home, the expanse of it, “Think of it as me paying her for saving my life.”

“I will earn my keep,” Viktor hisses, only then realizing that he had just indirectly agreed.

A smile creeps across Jayce’s face because he knows he’s won, “Then we’ll get you a job, but we can deal with that when you’ve settled.”

Settled .

Viktor’s a little confused and he’s not good at hiding it. 

“Until then. Go to bed, I’ve got her. There’s a pump in the bag of supplies, tomorrow if you want to figure that out so I don’t have to wake you each time. Heard it helps with the pain too,” Jayce looks at Viktor.

Their knees are touching, ever so gently.

“I…”

Jayce watches Viktor's lips purse, as though he’s struggling to speak, afraid to speak.

“I would like to formula feed her soon. I do not like… my breasts,” if it feels strange to advocate for himself, but he does it. 

As the words leave his lips, Viktor is subconsciously bracing himself, one eye is closing slightly as he turns his cheek just a bit. It’s a habit ingrained into his bones, something that would take a while to unlearn. 

“Okay,” Jayce’s voice perks up a bit, almost like he’s happy, “We can figure that out tomorrow as well. For now, go to sleep.”

Viktor sits awkwardly, waiting for Jayce to raise his voice when he doesn’t get up. Part of him wants him to, he wants Jayce to hit him, to let him know this man isn’t kind. That he needs to leave, that he needs to go through with his plan. 

But that doesn’t happen.

Not once does Jayce turn to him and tell him it was a joke, not once does he kick him back out in the rain. Instead he goes back to reading about the many laws of physics to the unnamed girl. 

A clock is ticking oddly from another room, Viktor tries to focus on it, but his eyes are latched onto Jayce and the baby. A part of him wants to hold her, but his body is tired and feels weak. To the sound of Jayce’s low voice reading, Viktor falls asleep with his arms crossed over him. When he awakes in the morning, he’ll be in a warm bed, wrapped in fresh and clean sheets.

It won’t bother him.

Notes:

Art of the first chapter already? I'm squealing, please go support the artist

Art by Tayyellowsugar: https://x.com/TayARMY22/status/1921942198116831519

Chapter 3: Goddess of Thunder

Notes:

Thank you for the comments and continued support, it motivates me to keep moving forward with this fic!

I don’t know if I will be able to maintain this speed for updating chapters the whole time, but I will try my best! I usually like to post weekly but these chapters are longer than what I usually do, so it might become biweekly or just whenever they are ready.
Thank you for the encouragement and patience!

For the first time in years, Viktor has a wonderful night's sleep despite being woken twice to feed the baby. But he’s not woken by her crying or someone yelling, he’s not woken by being slapped across the face or forcefully pulled from the bed with his bad leg.

It’s instead a gentle nudge, a whisper of, “Mamas hungry.”

Mamas, what a silly nickname for a baby.

Each time Viktor sat up groggily, but when he sits up there are pillows at his back and in front of him to help support the baby, she’s placed in his arms to feed. Jayce never stays in the room, giving them privacy until each feeding was over, where Jayce would take the baby once more and let Viktor return to sleep.

For the first time in his life Viktor wondered, how can I be so lucky to have a single night like this?

When morning does come, it’s closer to the afternoon. Viktor awakes to an empty room and the smell of bacon and eggs creeping through the door, it’s slightly ajar and not completely closed. He blinks the sleep from his eyes as he prepares himself to get out of bed. His milk supplier has stained the shirt he’s wearing, the sensation is disgusting but it doesn’t bother him as much as his growling stomach.

Initially Viktor wonders if he’ll be allowed to eat, if that food had been prepared for him as well or just Jayce. If this was just a ploy to bring him out of the room. It’s hard to imagine kindness, to accept decency, when you know your abuser is the outlier.

That most people aren’t like that, aren’t evil.

As Viktor prepares to get out of bed, he’s overcome by a wave of dizziness, he grips the bed and leans forward a bit. Shutting his eyes to prevent the world from toppling over, it works. Even if it’s brief it works.

Hector’s in his mind, a forced longing.

Viktor hates it, he hates how his body and heart wants that man. Craves it like a drug, potent and deadly. The separation sickness was starting already, mixed with this bout of either baby blues or postpartum depression (he couldn’t tell which.)

Stockholm syndrome, bondmarks, misery.

Last night Jayce fed hope into his heart and granted him the best sleep he’d had in years; which is saying something because being woken up so often, truly wasn’t the best. He spoke of solutions, a third and fourth path.

Viktor still couldn’t understand why this was happening, why Jayce would do all of this for a stranger. Why it mattered.

But it was true that his daughter had cried loud enough for them both, to cause him a moment to hesitate and Jayce that moment to speak. She had saved them both from themselves, from their actions. If she didn’t cry, Jayce wouldn’t have picked up his pace and Viktor would have closed his eyes and fell forward.

If Viktor was going to try and keep her, if Jayce was going to give him the space to do that. Then she needed a name.

In his picture perfect dreams, Viktor and his partner would talk for hours about naming their children. Maybe they’d argue over family names, talk about weird spellings; like Tony but spelt as Ptoughneigh. The thought occurred to him then, even though Jayce didn’t have a claim to her, even though he had no biological connection, he had the right to help.

Viktor may have given birth to her, but Jayce was the one who was truly giving her a life. A chance to live. Even if one day, Viktor disappeared, she would have that chance.

He gets up carefully, grabs his cane and prepares for the morning. Another pair of clothing is laid out for him, a Piltover Academy Sweatshirt, it’s ironic to see. Viktor holds it up in front of him, wondering what year it had been sold.

Because he had graduated from Piltover Academy, this shirt very well could have been sold there the years he went. Though he couldn’t afford to buy anything from their lines, everything had been too expensive. It’s possible they had crossed paths, more likely they never had before.

Viktor prepares himself for the day, putting in the sweatshirt that goes past his ass and follows his nose to the kitchen.

The baby is in the cot sleeping soundly. Music is playing, but she’s still sleeping. The lights are on, she’s asleep. Jayce is humming to the music, shifting his body as he seems to dance. Viktor doesn’t think he’s slept and that’s unfair, but he either doesn’t seem phased or is completely slap happy.

“Morning,” Viktor clears his throat, he stands at the threshold like a vampire waiting to be allowed in.

Jayce turns with a smile, his beard and hair are unkept but his expression isn’t wild. There’s something there, Viktor can see it so clearly now, the thing that drove Jayce to the bridge. There had to be something, why else would he be at the bridge?

But Viktor can see it in his eyes, Jayce has something there, just like he does.

Something dark that calls to him.

A clock ticks awkwardly over the sound of sizzling bacon.

“Mornin!” Jayce’s voice is full, he motions to the baby, “she’s a little milk drunk. But my mom used to say it’s good to have the baby sleep with sound, making it easier to sleep when she’s older.”

“Do you have… insomnia?”

“Ah, is it that obvious?” Jayce scratches at his chin, “come on in and have a seat, Dracula.”

“Ha,” Viktor enters and has a seat, the one closest to his daughter, “do I share a resemblance?”

Jayce looks at the pale faced man before him, he wished those bruises would fade. His hair is beautiful, washed and dried, looking at him in the light. There was no way Dracula looked this handsome. Jayce stopped himself from thinking any further, it’s impolite and inappropriate.

“Hm, haven’t seen Dracula before, despite being a night owl, when I meet him I’ll have to compare,” Jayce tosses food onto a plate and slides it in front of Viktor.

The pendulum swings, the clock goes off.

Viktor raises a brow, “it certainly can’t be 7 am?”

“It’s not,” Jayce motions into the direction of the clock, “it’s 11, but that clock's been broken for years.”

“A man who made a cane in his spare time, yet won’t fix a clock?” 

“I mean…” Jayce shrugs, he has his own plate of food in front of him, “it doesn’t bother me much, I think Mamas likes it,” Jayce tilts his head towards the baby, “It also doesn’t really interest me to fix it if I don’t really pay attention to it.”

Viktor picks at his food, the dizziness returns for a brief moment before it quickly goes away. He doesn’t remember when he’d eaten last and his body has been making a surprising amount of milk despite it. The bacon is crispy, the eggs smooth on his tongue, and the sweet milk in the glass are perfect. A simple yet delicious meal, halfway through he finds himself with more food on his plate than he thought.

Jayce had been sliding more over while they spoke.

“Did you not eat?”

“I ate before you got up,” Jayce motions to the dirty dishes in the sink, “so have as much as you want.”

With permission Viktor knows he doesn’t need, he eats his fill. Gently he places down his fork and looks up to Jayce with a soft expression, one that catches Jayce slightly off guard. Before Jayce has the chance to get up, Viktor has gathered his dishes and makes his way to the sink.

“I’ll clean them.”

“You should rest-“

Viktor turns to him, turns on the sink and checks the temperature with his fingers, “if you are letting me stay here, do you want me acting as a guest or a member of the household?”

“A member of the household.”

“Then please, let me clean the dishes, you can… shower or nap or something.”

Jayce looks to the sleeping baby and back to Viktor, taking this as a cue to bow out and allow the omega and baby to bond, “of course."

Jayce leaves to do just that, to shower and take a nap, or at least attempt to. He wishes that his mind would slow down a bit, but he keeps thinking about their conversations from last night. Nothing should be rushed, Viktor still was uncertain of him.

Viktor does the dishes, speaking to the sleeping baby in his native language. The music is still playing and sunlight is shining in through the window above the sink.

It was like a picture perfect life, but it isn’t his story. It’s not his but he wants it to be, yearns for it so much that his heart aches. This isn’t the house of a loving couple who’s entering the new world of adulthood after years of relationship building. It was two strangers who were deciding to raise a third stranger together.

As much as Viktor adored the baby, as much as he shared with her and loved her, at the present she felt like a stranger to him. It sickened him to think about it, he wondered if it was normal or if it was just another reason he should change his mind.

But it was a start, all of this was a start.

No, he couldn’t think otherwise. He couldn’t think of the possibility of improvement, of a bright future. Instead he should be thinking of leaving. Grab her and make a run for it, leave her at the fire station, head back to the bridge.

Or let Hector kill him.

You aren’t cut out to be a parent. Look at yourself, Hector had criticized after humiliating him, you pissed yourself. Baby on the bladder? No, you’re just a hot fucking mess.

It hadn’t been the case, Viktor was locked out of the bathroom on purpose. Even when he begged it didn’t sway Hector’s cruelty. 

His shoulders hunch over the sink, he makes himself smaller as he cleans the dishes. His cheeks are burning red, even now the feeling of humiliation was heavy on his shoulders. After all those tears, so many things had been internalized. 

When I knock up other desperate omegas, he’d laugh, I never think of you. You know that? 

Viktor’s hand shakes, a glass slips through his fingers and shatters against the middle part of the sink. His blood runs cold and he freezes for a moment.

Sometimes, I wish you’d kill yourself. 

Suddenly his legs feel weak and he can’t hold himself up, he presses his hands against the edge of the sink as he lowers himself to the ground. His eyes are blurry and his chest is burning, he puts his hand to his chest to feel it beating rapidly and he can’t breathe.

A sudden ringing is in his ears and he moves his hands up to cup them, his face stricken with terror. He imagines it, phantom sounds of dishes being thrown at him, insults and agony from breaking a mug.

Being forced to pick up the pieces with his teeth, Viktor can still taste the blood in his mouth. Right now, he’s biting his own tongue, a punishment out of complete and utter panic.

A person knelt before him and Viktor flinches, his mouth is open now and he’s repeating himself, he’s saying something between gasps for air. 

I’m sorry

I’ll clean it up

I’m sorry

Please

A fist never meets his face and glass isn’t forced against his lips, the figure moves back to a safe distance and sits in silence.

“Viktor,” the voice is soft, gentle, not Hector.

It’s his name that starts to bring him out of his panic, Hector stopped using it. Instead replacing it with horrid names that mocked every aspect of him. Swindled him down to nothing but his faults, accentuating them, even turning into monsters of their own. Imperfections that needed to be changed, improved on, evolved.

“I’m sorry,” Viktor croaks out, the look in his eyes is worse than the one from last night. It’s not desperate, it’s terrified, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jayce wants to reach forward, to take all the pain away, “it’s just a cup.”

But it wasn’t just a cup, it never could just be a cup. But Viktor could fix it, not for use, but for show. Fill in the cracks with sand and glue.

“No,” Viktor shakes his head, turning back towards the sink as he prepares to stand back up, “I’ll fix it.”

Jayce doesn’t touch him, but he does gently block his hands from grabbing the edge. Preventing him from standing up to reach into the sink of broken glass.

“I have dozens of the same cup,” Jayce’s tone is steady, even softer now.

Viktor looks at him, eyes wide and confused, Jayce should be getting louder. Not softer, his chest hurts, his skin feels warm and he still can’t feel his legs, he couldn’t get up if he wanted to. His body just turned off.

“I have them on auto delivery every two months,” Jayce holds up his fingers, “I break them all the time. I knock them over in my workshop almost daily. It’s okay.”

Jayce watches Viktor, smells how lavender turns to smoke like a burning field. How expressive he is and how he doesn’t really move. The way he stares at Jayce, how he doesn’t seem fully there yet.

Viktor’s walls are high, brick and steel, but Jayce approaches the door and he knocks.

“It wasn’t okay before, was it?” 

Slowly, Viktor shakes his head.

“It’s okay here,” Jayce tilts his head to the slide slightly, “broken clock on the wall, remember?”

Viktor hears it tick from the other room, turning to look in it’s direction as he focuses on it. It’s not right, it should be fixed, but it’s not jarring or unpleasant. 

“Did you bite your tongue?” Jayce kneels to grab a paper towel before holding it to Viktor.

Viktor nods and takes the paper towel, opening his mouth slightly to let the blood soak onto the towel as he applies pressure. It’s inefficient but it keeps his mouth open, his mind occupied, the texture on his tongue. 

There is silence, but Viktor focuses on the ticking, of the pendulum swinging. An unfamiliar feeling from deep within him, wants to curl into safety, to engulf himself in the scent of amber and cedarwood.

Into Jayce.

But it’s strange to yearn for an acquaintance when you’re in the early stages of dying for your bonded alpha. 

“I…”

I don’t know what came over me , would be a lie, because Viktor does know. He can’t forget. 

Jayce is patient, doesn’t force him to say a word and allows the two to sit in that moment of silence. The thing Jayce doesn’t want to hear, though, is sorry. 

When Viktor’s breathing settles and his heart attempts to reach baseline, he looks down at the floor. He’s embarrassed and feels a little shameful.

“I’ll clean it up,” Viktor says as he adjusts his body, the feeling returning back to his legs, “where is the trash can?”

“Hey,” Jayce doesn’t know why, but he reaches towards Viktor.

Viktor, as expected shrinks away, not quite a flinch but something close. Jayce freezes, realizing he’s over stepped and pulls his hand back. Viktor’s so expressive, the way his nose scrunches with his brows, the look of anticipation when Jayce’s hand moves. Jayce needs the muscle memory to fade, for these actions to fall out of practice.

“Sorry,” Jayce is quick, putting his hand to his own hair, running it backwards, “force of habit.”

“Force of habit?” Viktor’s eyes look up at him, “how odd.”

“No, see I…”

But Viktor lifts his head up now, “Show me.”

Jayce examines Viktor’s face, looking for something that tells him this is a some type of self torture. If Viktor just wants the hand to hover above him so he can flinch again or to suffocate under the touch of another.

In reality, Viktor’s not sure what Jayce wants nor what his ‘force of habit’ is. He’s curious as much as he craves the gentleness of another’s touch. For some reason, he’s comfortable with Jayce and feels confident that Jayce wouldn’t hit him. Viktor wants to relearn affection, to feel the warmth of another’s skin against his.

Tentatively Jayce brings his hand up, slow and steady, almost as though he’s petting a terrified animal. But Viktor’s hackle’s aren’t raised, his claws aren’t out and his fangs aren’t prepared to rip into his flesh. He’s sure Viktor can see his hand, watching as his eyes follow it beside his face. Jayce’s pointer finger moves and gently strokes against Viktor’s cheek, avoiding a bruise before he gently pushes Viktor’s hair back and places it behind his ear to reveal more of his face.

Viktor’s hands tighten, not from fear but sheer anticipation. Jayce’s touch is light and kind, the separation sickness wants him to lean closer. But the sickness also wants it to be Hector. There had been horror stories of omegas trying to move on after a bond mark, about how some alphas can fill certain needs to ease their suffering, but some things could only cause misery. That and Viktor doesn’t feel like burdening Jayce anymore than he has thus far, he can’t expect a stranger to fill the cracks that are growing in his heart.

”Oh,” Jayce pushes the hair a little farther back, looking at the blonde underneath, “Blonde?”

“Mhm, it’s natural too,” Viktor tilts his head just a bit, giving Jayce a teaser of the hair attached to his scalp, proof he wasn’t lying, “Started when I presented.”

”Facinating,” Jayce looks, his face getting a little closer, “Is that common?”

Viktor’s hair is soft and fluffy, Jayce has to resist the temptation to run his entire hand through it, to see where the divide is between brunette and blonde. 

”As common as being a recessive omega,” Viktor admits, his body feels so much calmer, his mind no longer wandering to Hector and his fits, “Which isn’t very.”

”Wow, sounds like you are truly one of a kind! Does that run in your family?” Jayce’s interest is genuine, he’s curious, he’s never seen a thing like it.

”Eh, it’s more of a mutation than an actual recessive trait. My father is the only other omega in the tree. What of yours?” Viktor’s eyes brighten a bit, he rarely has the chance to speak of his parents.

”Full of Alphas, maybe a single beta through marriage,” Jayce has a strand of Viktor’s hair between his fingers, he’s twirling it, playing with it while they speak, “I’m a dominant alpha.”

“Oh…” Viktor doesn’t shrink away, he continues to examine Jayce, “You are…gentle for a dominant alpha.”

“And that’s surprising to you,” Jayce doesn’t make it a question, just a statement, “Listen, Viktor. I-“

The baby awakes, she stretches and makes a noise of interest before beginning to cry. Her stomach is growling and while she slept through Viktor’s moment of pain, she still feels the ruminations of it in the air. She craves the contact of his skin, of his heart beating against her tiny body as she feeds. 

“Zlaticko,” Viktor says to her as he looks for where the cane had fallen, grabbing it and lifting himself back up, “I’m here. Mama, er…Táta is here.”

While either name felt strange upon his tongue, being able to say it, acknowledge it and be given the space to try felt nice. When he’s up he picks her up and privets to a a dining room chair. Jayce is already placing a towel to burp her on Viktor’s shoulder. 

“Is that Czech or something else?”

“It’s Czech,” Viktor looks impressed, one hand going under the sweater as he prepares to lift it, pausing when he remembers he’s in Jayce’s kitchen and the man is standing right there, “How could you tell?”

”College, there was a group of students who’d speak it in the library,” Jayce is about to leave when Viktor stops him.

Viktor’s eyes glance down to the sweater he’s wearing, “You went to Piltover Academy?”

“I did!” Jayce smiles, putting his hands onto his hips with pride, "Loved that place, not sure if it loved me though.”

“I…” Viktor stares at Jayce, now he’s searching for something.

A sense of familiarity, with his eyes and cheekbones, the scar on his eyebrow. They had gone to the same university and Viktor wanted to tell him that, to open up about that part of his life. But he refrains, he closes the door he was slowly attempting to open. He had been assistant to the dean of the academy, he knew of Jayce Talis. He knew of the explosion in the lab, he was the one who had to organize the clean up.

But his memory is fuzzy, his thoughts are weaving around his head, his body is tired, but something is there. A distinct feeling, of knowing that he had met him before, even if it was in passing. Viktor wants to extend his hand, but he can’t do it, not yet. If Jayce recognized him, he would have said something, perhaps he’s just worn down enough to imagine things. Instead he changes the subject, to something less about their pasts.

“Jayce,” He sighs as he holds his daughter, soothing her for a moment before he feeds her, “I’d like you to help me name her, as you’ve given her the chance at a life. I think it’s fair.”

Jayce stands straighter, taller, he turns to look at Viktor as if he had placed the stars in the sky himself. This was the greatest honor and the most incredible thing he’d ever been asked. To be a part of creating a name, a title, the start of an identity for a person. 

“Viktor I- are you sure?” Jayce is stunned.

“I’m more than sure,” Viktor’s smile is soft, for some reason he doesn’t feel the need to shy himself away while begins to feed her. Jayce’s eyes never venture past his face.

Jayce purses his lips before he puts his hands behind his back as he thinks. Viktor thinks the decision will take a while, maybe the entire night, but Jayce is quicker than expected.

“Bronte,” Jayce says with confidence.

“Like the authors?”

”Authors? No, Bronte is the goddess of thunder in Greek mythology,” Jayce pulls up a chair and sits down.

”Are you Greek?” Viktor raises a brow, it’s an interesting name choice.

”No, I just like its mythology. I’ve named some prototypes in the same realm, Atlas gauntlets, Mercury hammer…Not that the baby is a prototype. You said author?”

Viktor has little idea what Jayce is listing off, but he has an inkling that he will learn about what they are soon. He’s not opposed to the name, in fact it makes sense given their initial meeting. Yet at the same time, the author’s perspective makes just as much sense, if not more.

”The Brontë sisters. Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, and the Tenant of Wildfell Hall,” Viktor lists a few of the novels he’d read, mostly impressed that the name held two different meanings for the two of them/

”Oh well…” Jayce pulls his hand to his chin, smiling in a charming way, “she is allowing us to write our own stories! I think that means we have the perfect name for her.”

”Ha!” Viktor’s eyes light up slightly, the joke managed to hit when Jayce didn’t expect it to, “Well…I do like it, though it’ll take some getting used to not thinking about Literature.”

“Bronte, our little thunderclap,” there’s pride in Jayce’s voice, it makes Viktor’s stomach flutter.

Our . Viktor clears his throat.

How incredible it was to share something with another person. To have something and be able to have a mutual respect, a mutual love for something you’ve grown yourself. With your own body’s nutrients and blood.

“We can call her Bunny or Bonnie,” Jayce muses, “Or just Thunderclap.”

We . Viktor cherishes this moment with Bronte in his arms. Cherishes this moment where the sun is creeping through the window, where this feels like home and that he’s belonged here his entire life.

“I’m going to shower and nap,” Jayce turns around quickly, “Call if you need anything, my room is upstairs. There’s a laptop in the living room, by the way. If you wanted to look up transitioning her from breast to bottle.”

The way he says it, makes Viktor think he’s already looked. Jayce remembered what Viktor had said and given him consideration. It was something so incredibly small, so normal, yet continued to feel monumental to Viktor.

Plans have been set, Jayce goes upstairs to shower and nap while Viktor wraps up feeding Bronte. When he finishes he brings her into the living room and sits in front of Jayce’s laptop, investigating how and when to transition a baby from breast to bottle. As he types in his questions, he realizes that they pop up as being searched before.

The muscles on his cheeks are sore from the smallest of smiles. Jayce had gone even farther in his search, looking up what formulas are best and if it matters. He looks up how a fed baby is a happy baby .

It’s not long before Viktor’s eyes grow fatigued from looking at the screen, the blue light just a little too bright for him. Closing the laptop he lays back on the couch, moving her to rest upon his chest. Her body is warm, her tiny breaths are gentle.

Bronte, his beautiful little girl.

He’ll use the pump for a little while, he decides. It’s free, save the dysphoria. Viktor knows he doesn’t have to do it forever, just for a little while while she’s little. It was odd that Jayce’s presence, his support for the switch, and his readiness to help feed her, made him want to try for a little bit. 

While he hated his breasts, he did not mind her warmth upon his skin or the way she needed him. The closeness they were able to share, the closeness that they lacked in the first twentyfour hours of her life. He’d live with the six months of discomfort before beginning the process of moving her to formula.  Six months of his body being able to continue to feed her and help her grow, then he’d stop. Eventually he’d stop producing milk, his breasts would shrink, and he could bind. Top surgery was a dream, a dream that lived and died with having a job and a supportive lover.

It’s while they lay there, that she starts to lift her head just a little bit. Not strong enough to lift it completely, but still enough to start building those muscles. Tummy time is important, Viktor recalls, he needs to make sure that she gets more time with it, he doesn’t want her to end up weak and aching due to his own carelessness.

”Ah,” Viktor puts his hand gently against the back of her head, “I hope I didn’t doom you to having a flat head….” He speaks in Czech when he’s alone with her now.

Now that he has some time, now that he has her here.

Things that Viktor notices, she doesn’t seem to hate tummy time and she looks at him with a silly little expression. She smells like milk and amber, a combination of himself and Jayce. So far biggest interest is the oddly ticking clock on the wall, when she isn’t facing Viktor, she’s trying to turn to see it.

Viktor watches her, but also watches the clock when she’s done with tummy time and he flips her over onto her back. The pendulum swings in such an awkward manner, it’s a vintage piece and he can only assume it’s some type of family heirloom. A sudden and sharp pain blooms in the middle of his body, a cold to warm feeling that leaves him gritting his teeth. It’s unpleasant but nothing that he thinks he can’t deal with.

Hector had made him feel worse before, this can’t be worse. Can it?

Bronte falls asleep and he quietly gathers her and puts her back into the pack and plays in the kitchen. 

Pursing his lips he goes back into the guest room, their room and grabs the pump that’s still in the box. Jayce likely would have returned it, but Viktor takes it into the kitchen and has a seat at the table. Opening it he assembles and reads the instructions, Bronte has been favoring one breast, causing the other one pain.

Though the pain could be something else, deep inhales have been hard for him, even harder now. He places his hand on his rib as he takes a slow breath, new aches are appearing but he knows that they are from the other day. His body is just so overwhelmed by the amount of pain he’s been in, it doesn’t know what to do.

At the table he starts working on the pump, attaching it to his neglected breast and looking away as it does its job. It’s not his baby, so he doesn’t want to watch if he doesn’t have to. The more he does this, the more he’ll likely produce milk. It’ll elongate the process of his breasts going down, he mentally goes over it with himself.

It’s not forever, just for now. Just for a little while.

Viktor pumps until he’s empty, storing the milk in the fridge with the date and time on it. He hopes that Jayce is alright with it being besides the carton of eggs. It’s while he’s staring at the open fridge does he realize how cool it is, how the air gently presses his face that’s warmed up so much more.

Closing his eyes he feels as the world around him shifts, closing the fridge he stands still, gripping the handle as everything begins to spin. It doesn’t stop, his stomach lurches and Viktor finds himself vomiting into the sink. His stomach aches, his forehead is starting to burn.

He turns the sink on and washes his vomit down, spitting as he blinks away black patches in his vision.

”It’s okay,” Viktor encourages himself, gripping onto it to steady himself, the pain is unbearable, “I’m okay.”

There’s a rushing in his ears, a pouring between his thighs. Swallowing back bile, Viktor turns and grabs onto the pack and plays and begins to drag it backwards towards the guest room. He’s being careful, but his steps are unbalanced. By the time he makes it to the hallway he drops his cane before falling on the floor himself.

The pack and play begins to capsize but he presses it up against the wall. 

I don’t feel good , Viktor wants to cry, but no one would be there to listen. No one would be there to care. He just needs to lay down, nothing else, he can’t wake Jayce. If he woke Hector, he’d pay for it. Hector. At first he was scared but now he’s confused, Hector.

Hector will be upset if he finds me in the hallway.

Viktor had gotten used to making himself small, to hiding away from Hector especially when he came home from work. He knows that the best thing he can do is lay down in bed and pretend he doesn’t exist. To let his body lay there, to let it pass, and if Hector wants to use him, let him.

Their house doesn’t look right to Viktor, but it's still a place to sleep. He crawls the rest of the way to the bed, his teeth chattering from the blood loss as he curls up in bed. Hoping it all goes away, hoping he’ll wake up and feel better, hoping that Hector won’t be the one to wake him.

From the hallway, Bronte begins to cry. High pitched and loud and with her limbs, she begins to thrash in her cot.

When Jayce slept it was either like the dead or featherlight, this current nap had been one of the lighter moments. He had an alarm set, one that would only give him a few hours of sleep before he’d rejoin them downstairs, to offer Viktor his support and maybe get to know the man a little more.

Bronte’s cry wakes him, it’s not a slow wake either, it’s startled and quick. Jayce sits up and throws the blanket off him, a reflex that he didn’t know he had. That paternal feeling to run down and see what’s wrong is strong, but he stops, holding himself back as he realizes that Viktor needs time with her as well.

Jayce isn’t her father.

With his feet on the ground he waits, but it’s harder as she begins to cry even harder, louder, and it doesn’t stop. Viktor doesn’t stir and he doesn’t hear movement downstairs, the sound of the cane on the floor or doors opening.

Perhaps Viktor was in the bathroom, but her cries are different, nothing he’d heard before. 

Unable to resist the urge to help, Jayce gets up and heads down the stairs, first checking the kitchen before following the sound of her cries. The water in the sink is running but no one is in the room, the pack and play is gone and so is Viktor. Jayce turns it off, noticing then that there are remnants of vomit that hadn’t been there before. Jayce grits his teeth and nods a bit, turning to notice that the breastpump was half cleaned on the counter.

Bronte is still crying and it makes his chest ache, she’s loud and sounds like she’s in pain. Viktor hasn’t made a sound. Jayce can tell she’s not in the guest room, her cries are too close.

Picking up his pace he heads to the hallway, then seeing that the pack and play is partially capsized against the wall. It looks like it’s moments from tipping over, haphazardly left there. Jayce runs, grabbing it and quickly righting it so a tragedy doesn’t happen. Bronte is screaming, a disturbing cry that makes Jayce’s hair stand on end. It alerts something deep within him, something primal that tells him that something is wrong.

Something is wrong with Viktor.

Jayce picks her up, trying to soothe her as he holds her gently and whispers, “Where’s your Táta?” Jayce remembers the word Viktor had used, “Let’s find him, okay?”

Jayce gives her a quick once over, she doesn’t look hurt and the only thing that’s red is her face from screaming. She’s still wailing so he presses her close, not knowing if it’s right, but scenting her gently. He hopes that it doesn’t upset Viktor, but her cries are turning her face red and he’s afraid she’ll burst a blood vessel in her face.

”Viktor?” Jayce’s hand is on the door, “I’m coming in.”

The door still isn’t locked and he’s thankful for that.

That thankfulness drains as he steps in, the floor disappearing from under him when he’s hit with the poignant smell of iron. Iron and distress, hitting him in the face so hard that he winces as he turns on the light. Jayce feels like he’s plummeting through the air at the bridge, a rush of panic collides with him.

The idea that Viktor had hurt himself on purpose was fleeting, not standing a chance for their previous conversation. Yet Jayce didn’t understand the workings of postpartum depression or psychosis, he didn’t understand separation sickness nor the existence of living as an omega. Jayce didn’t have a single clue.

One conversation about naming a baby, a panic attack, everything could have gone directly out the window.

”Viktor?” Jayce can see the blankets are curled up, a turf of brown hair sticking out from between the sheets.

Bronte has stopped crying as loudly, seemingly soothed by the warmth of Jayce’s hand. She whines softly, reassured by his touch, engulfed in his scent and not her Táta’s suffering. Attempting to mitigate disaster, Jayce leaves the pack and play in the hallway and places her back into it.

Blood, he smells blood.

Jayce again throws any boundaries they’ve had out as he puts his hand onto Viktor’s shoulder. Taking it to turn him slightly, to get a look at Viktor’s face. The omega moves without any resistance, he’s breathing heavily and his skin is much paler than before.

The palest Jayce had ever seen.

”Viktor,” gently, he places his hand onto Viktor’s forehead, it’s coated in sweat, he’s burning up, “Hey.”

Viktor is startled by the touch, just now registering that someone was nearby. His eyes flutter before he forces them open, unfocused, unaware.

“Sorry,” Viktor croaks out, disorientated as he pushes himself up, “I’ve got her, don’t worry.”

Jayce watches as he sways, noticing how his shirt and the sheets are soaked through from sweat. The smell of blood is stronger here, Jayce’s mind is racing. Gently he reaches out to him, but Viktor isn’t receptive to it.

Instead he flinches away, somehow able to see his movements from his blurry peripheral vision. He flinches away, shudders and tries to scoot down the bed away from him.

That’s when Jayce sees it, all of the blood soaked through that stupid adult diaper, soaked through his sweat pants and most likely through the mattress. Jayce’s heart leaps to his throat as he stands up quickly, something is wrong. It’s an incredible amount, a dangerous amount.

”Fuck,” Jayce whispers under his breath, Fear grips him as he sees Viktor trembling, his eyes unfocused.

“Viktor,” Jayce starts fumbling for his phone, he reaches forward to him, “We need to get you to the hospital.”

“It’s okay,” Viktor hisses, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he braces himself. Pushing against the edge of the bed as he stares down at the ground, the world is spinning and he doesn’t recognize where he is. The baby is crying, “I can handle it.”

The world toppled onto its side and so did Viktor, Jayce lunged forward, catching him by the arm to pull him back. In surprise, Viktor was pulled back up, his eyes unfocused before going wide. The bruising on his face, his eyes, burrowing a hole into Jayce.

“Please,” Viktor’s eyes were teary, “don’t hurt her, Hector. Babies cry.”

Jayce’s entire body shivered, a visceral reaction as he was called by what he could only assume was the man who had used Viktor’s body as a forgotten canvas. Leaving marks of black and purple, marks of hatred and abuse.

“I’m not- Viktor. You need medical attention.”

Viktor blinked, his consciousness and mind fleeting, his head was pounding and as Jayce spoke, he shut his eyes tightly. The words felt like nails in his temples, the room feeling unfamiliar and strange. Breathing was getting harder and the pain was making him feel sick.

The person beside him was an Alpha and the only one he thought it could be, was the man who hurt him. Terror was growing in him, the way his baby cried for him but his inability to move properly. He’s told he’s sick, but he can’t leave her, he can’t go to the hospital.

Hector would kill him, they can’t afford that.

Viktor pushes away from Jayce, his movements are weak but Jayce allows him to free himself. Jayce doesn’t know what to do, blood is spreading across the sheets, down Viktor’s legs, his teeth are chattering.

If Jayce grabs him, he’s afraid of how Viktor would react, thinking that he was Hector. Swallowing hard Jayce makes the mistake to allow him to get away from him, to watch as he goes to stand up but immediately teeters to the slide, crumpling to the ground.

Jayce is quick though, diving to the ground to catch him before Viktor’s head hits it. He pulls Viktor into him, cradling him as he puts a hand to his face, hoping that his hand would at least calm him a bit.

“Viktor, it’s me, Jayce.”

Everything becomes tunneled, Viktor’s vision splotching in and out of focus, he grips onto Jayce’s shirt, “Don’t put us outside, I’m sorry,” Viktor’s voice hitches, “I’ll fix it. Please.”

“What’s your last name Viktor? Your birthday?” 

Jayce has his phone out now, calling 911 as he tries to get whatever information he can from a man who’s barely there. Watching as his consciousness begins to wane. He needs details to make this not look as questionable as it will when help arrives.

“Don’t put us outside,” Viktor’s eyes roll back, “It’s raining.”

It’s not raining, but it had been.

”Babies cry,” Viktor chokes again, leaning into Jayce’s chest as his entire body shakes, “Please.” 

”I know, I know..” Jayce’s chest tightens as he pulls Viktor up and into his arms, “I won’t, I promise.”

“Is she hurt?”

“No,” a lump has formed in Jayce’s throat, “Just scared. Viktor, When’s your birthday?”

”Demcember 29th,” Viktor whispers before becoming unresponsive.

“Viktor?”

Again, the Goddess of Thunder’s cries boom from her tiny little chest. Jayce is cradling Viktor in his arms, feeling his heart rate drop as sweat has become visible upon his forehead. Dispatch is assuring him that help is on the way, they are telling him something, but he can’t hear them anymore.

The pendulum halts, floating in purgatory.

Jayce feels so completely out of control.

Notes:

Living in fear that y'all will hate the name.

Chapter 4: Milk and Amber

Notes:

Thank you for the continued love, my life has begun to spiral out of control right when I thought things were calming down. It's rather personal but yeah

The void calls, but I persist.

On a more relevant note-

This chapter is a little shorter, it was actually going to be LONGER but I took the last part and have it starting the next chapter. It just flowed better that way!

The hand upon Viktor’s head was rough, his nails digging into his scalp as his face was shoved into the floor. Blood is on the floor from his nose and he blinks blood from his eyes, head wounds bleed the most, Viktor has learned. He grits his teeth, milk fangs piercing into his inner lip and cheek. Since their arrival, Viktor hasn’t learned how to properly close his mouth.

These teeth are a curse, permanent and proof of his struggle.

Something others would pity if they saw a symbol of his shame, his weakness.

Viktor has learned not to beg, it only encourages Hector. The more he begs the more he screams, it’s what feeds the addiction of hurting him. Hector’s scent is strong, acrid as Viktor is forced to feel it burning his nose. 

Hector’s hand grips into Viktor’s hair, lifting his head before he shoves it back down against the ground. His ears begin to ring and Viktor knows better than to resist, he shuts his eyes and braces himself as Hector lets go of his head, pulls back his leg and kicks him hard in the ribs.

Air leaves his lungs with a rough gasp, Viktor is unable to keep his mouth shut as spit leaves his mouth. Somehow, Hector’s blind flurry allowed him to miss Viktor’s stomach, to avoid their baby who had decided that she was coming early.

Their baby .

In his dreams Viktor would celebrate with his mate, pick out decorations for a nursery, and plan the coming of their product of their love.

This wasn’t their baby, it was Viktor’s. While Hector had donated his sperm, while he held Viktor down; while the baby in his womb shared half of Hector's DNA. This baby would never be his.

Viktor’s blood fed them, allowing them to grow.

But even so, Viktor realizes that he has failed the fetus growing within his womb, the one he nurtured with his own body. A person that was being brought into the world under such distressful circumstances. Forced into the life of a child between a useless omega and a violent and evil alpha. If they were to live, they would know nothing but suffering under Hector’s hand. If this baby, boy or girl, were born and happened to be an omega; their fate would be worse.

That’s why this is it, why Viktor decides that this is as much as he can take, a life like this isn’t worth living. How selfish he was to even consider bringing a baby into this world with Hector as a mate. 

The back of his neck burns, the bond mark festering hot and angry. Love hadn’t been involved in their bonding, only the desire for control and anger. He tried to remove it, growing out his nails in an attempt to dig and pick it out of his skin. Desperately hoping that it hadn’t been deep enough to leave that much of an impression on his scent gland. Every night he begged for it to reject, to beg for his body not to react to Hector’s commands.

And every night his body failed him so every night he continued to pick and carve with his nails. It hadn’t been until he realized that it could hurt his baby, that he stopped. If it killed him, he wouldn’t have cared less.

He didn’t want to die, he wanted so desperately to live; but this was not a life for him. Love was the driving force of his life; love and nature, empathy and the gentle breeze in the spring. A calm life, a  beautiful and honest life, that had been what his parents had wanted for him.

Viktor’s body, his entire existence, had been built out of the desperate love between both of his parents. Everything he had known, everything he had ever experienced had been because of their love. Their endless nights of trying for him, their sleepless nights working in a single bedroom apartment in Zaun. 

Viktor had been wanted and loved just Viktor wanted and loved this baby. He loved too strongly, too deeply and it burned him.

A contraction rips through him, starting in his lower back as it pulses and expands. It forces his lungs to inhale, forces his eyes open despite the blood dripping into his eyelids. They were coming faster than before and he needed to remind himself to breathe. To keep his heart rate steady for the baby, to keep conscious to deliver it.

Despite the pain, Viktor doesn’t cry out, the most he does is keep breathing. In through his nose, out through his mouth. His body stops moving, he doesn’t beg and plead but the silence doesn’t bring him any peace. Another blow to the ribs and then a new one to the face, his head snaps backwards and his vision turns white.

If his nose isn’t broken, he’d be surprised, it’s already happened once.

In the end, he’s picked up by his hair and dragged a few feet down the hall. Viktor’s legs barely hold his weight as he’s thrown into the room, before it’s locked from the outside. As Hector leaves in a fury, slamming the door and yelling as his voice fades away Viktor allows himself to cry.

To scream and lament over the life he was living, of the dreams he had. At this age, he had hoped to be in such a different place than he was now, and now he was cursed to this.

Whether or not his ribs are broken, he doesn’t know, every inch of his body hurts and he needs to bring all of his attention to his lower half. There’s some relief that he hadn’t been choked and he was happy that he was going to be conscious to deliver this baby.

It’s agony and he has to do it alone.

Terrified he sits himself up, pressing the upper part of his back against the wall as he mentally prepares himself. With fingers that aren’t as nimble as they should be, he pulls his pants down and spreads his legs. Another contraction hits, sweat has formed upon his brow and he feels an intense pressure from below. Somehow, he breathes through it, breathes through it before reaching down between his legs, he can’t feel the baby yet and he knows that the first labor is typically the longest.

This night will be unlike any he’s had before and while he prepares to bring new life into the world, he hears a low hum, a whisper. Viktor can hear her, the call of the void as she scratches at the window. The clouds are darkening, a storm is coming and will remain over their homes for the next few days. As the wind picks up he hears her whispering, calling his name to succumb to the dark. Death wants him, tempts him-

But Viktor has a baby to deliver.

—

Jayce cradled Viktor in his arms and as the ambulance gets closer, he refuses to let go of the man bleeding in his arms and gives permission for them to break the door down. At least three times Jayce remembers asking, pleading, begging:

“How can I help?”

“God dammit how can I help?”

The third path, the fourth path, and any possible path that Jayce could forge for Viktor is crumbling before his very eyes. Falling apart as Viktor’s attempt to live, his decision to survive, is taken away before he had the chance to. 

The response is mostly to stay calm, check his breathing and heart rate, to elevate his legs over his heart and try to keep him conscious. There isn’t a wound that Jayce can apply pressure on, the only wounds that are external are the wounds that are healing on their own.

Wounds that heal without the intervention of anyone else, just Viktor’s grit and resilience.

Jayce wishes that he could apply pressure, that he could treat and care for the wound that was threatening his life. If pressure was needed, he’d apply it.

“Come on, Vik,” Jayce’s voice cracks, examining Viktor’s face as he begins to panic, “Bronte needs you, come on,” He places his hand onto Viktor’s chest, feeling his heart beat as he gently rubs his sternum, “She’s crying for you, Tati.”

Bronte’s lungs expand wide enough to swallow the two of them whole, she belts out one last time before the front door breaks. She briefly is stunned in silence before her cries are filtered out by a group of people running into Jayce’s home.

Time starts moving faster than Jayce can, he’s pushed backwards to Bronte, watching as Viktor’s airway is cleared of white and yellow foam, watching as he’s assessed and lifted. Given the choice, Jayce wouldn’t have let go, If given the chance he’d hold his hand tightly. Everyone is moving quickly but with precision, they don’t look panicked but their actions appear to be well practiced. But they couldn’t have seen something like this every day and even if they saw it often, he knows their hands will shake later.

Their hearts will weep.

With shaking hands, Jayce picks Bronte up to soothe her. He presses his lips to the top of her head as he gently kisses it, his eyes have filled with tears of fear and anxiety, but he whispers to her.

“Help’s here,” he whispers.

He doesn’t realize it, but he’s dousing that little girl with his scent. It’s automatic, it’s instinctual. Bronte’s calmed by the scent of amber and cedarwood and the arms of someone strong and warm, a protector, an alpha who’s heart beat races against her tiny body.

He doesn’t realize it, but he had doused Viktor with his scent as well, as he cradled him in an attempt to wake him up, to keep him calm.

Jayce throws the diaper bag over his shoulder as they are rushed from the house, without any other way to carry the newborn, they allow him in the ambulance with her. She’s held carefully, eyes would have been on her if Viktor’s situation hadn’t been so dire. 

On the way he hear’s Viktor’s blood pressure tank and then comes back up, he hears the medic talking to someone in the emergency room. They need blood and fluids, they need an OBY; they are conveying his symptoms to someone that Jayce will never meet.

As his ears start to ring he misses everything else as he stares down at Viktor.

Shock.

Needless to say, they both were. Though Jayce was able to recognize that Viktor’s was dangerous. Jayce can’t watch anymore, shutting his eyes tightly as tears drip down his face before he turns to talk to Bronte one more time.

His voice quivers, “I’ve got you, Bunny Girl. I’ve got you.”

On the way over, he’s asked a barrage of questions, many he still doesn’t have the answer to. To the EMTS he sounds like an incompetent alpha, a heartless partner while they both seem careless and irresponsible. Each bruise on Viktor’s face makes the situation look even worse. 

“He gave birth at home a few days ago,” Jayce says, “No…no doctor or midwife…It wasn’t smart, I-I know.”

As the questions kept coming Jayce began to shut down, the momentary feeling of purpose was starting to fade away as he looked death in the face. Death’s hands on Viktor’s face, death’s hand carving through his chest and tearing at him from his womb. Jayce stares down at death, he hears the call of the void once more.

Bronte snorts and Jayce looks back down.

It’s here he realizes that he doesn’t have any food to feed her. 

Cold and sharp, the feeling of a knife plunges into his chest because he saw that Viktor had used the pump. Viktor had told him how he didn’t like his breasts, Jayce could tell that it was a mental hurdle for Viktor to do it, yet he still decided to despite everything.

There was milk in the fridge, waiting for her from her Táta and Jayce hadn’t grabbed it.

Jayce would either have to find a way back home or he’d have to feed her formula, which despite being a one time thing, seemed like betrayal. During his research he saw that some babies, when given a bottle at such a young age, may struggle to latch back onto a breast. The knife in his chest plunges deeper, wondering if he had inadvertently led Viktor’s heart to break.

Two decisions he’d made, two that might be undone.

The pendulum still hovers in open space, Jayce feels the few things he had left to hold onto fall apart.

How could a meeting, a person he just met, leave such a gaping hole in his heart?

At the hospital they get out of the ambulance and Jayce runs in after, he wants to follow as far as he can, which won’t be far. Jayce doesn’t know how large of an emergency this is, he doesn’t know if Viktor is dying or having an episode of something, all he knows is something is wrong. He follows until people are telling him to stop, until a familiar face pushes through the doors and swiftly runs up to him. Dark pink scrubs, a white coat floating up behind her with how swiftly she’s moving.

Mel puts her hand up, she’s about to press her hand hard against Jayce’s chest. Her intention is not to shove him, just stop him, she’s known him long enough to know that wild look in his eyes. The one that’s pleading for help, the one that’s moving fifty miles a minute. As her hand splays out, she sees a baby in Jayce’s arms.

Recognizing the baby, she shifts herself quickly and presses her hand firm against Jayce’s shoulder. Green eyes grip onto his and in that moment, Jayce feels himself coming up to speed again. She holds his gaze, she has questions that he can answer, but she can’t ask now.

“Deep breath, Jayce,” Mel reassures him though her voice is stern, “I’ll find you after this.”

Viktor is brought past a pair of doors and he can not follow, a tear is forming in his heart as he holds Bronte with both arms. Someone’s hand is on his back as they lead him into another area of the hospital, where they are handing him forms and offering to hold Bronte.

Jayce refuses to give her up, though, seeing a Social Worker looming nearby. There’s a chance that if he hands her over, he wouldn’t be seeing her again. There’s no telling what can happen now that Viktor’s unconscious. 

As he fills out the intake form, he doesn’t have a lot of information and in the flurry of it all. But he tries the best he can, leaning against a counter with Bronte still in his arms, he wishes he had a carrier for her, but she seems content despite the bright lights.

He writes Viktor’s last name as Talis.

He doesn’t plan on committing insurance fraud, he’ll pay out of pocket. If Viktor has a last name, if there’s a chance that his ex finds him, he’s in danger. Jayce has nothing to hide, his fists are clean and so are his hands, the most he’d done was be too careless, too hopeful.

Thinking that Viktor’s mind, his suicidal ideations, the separation sickness, that those were the most dangerous things. He hadn’t asked how the labor went, if he felt alright physically, he didn’t ask if needed to be checked out. He hadn't realized Viktor’s physical condition had been deteriorating the moment they met.

Guilt.

As he sits down, he remembers that he doesn’t have anything for Bronte to eat and the social worker is looming closer, she wants to ask him questions, she wants to hold the baby. The Police Officer is waiting nearby too, obviously called because of how suspicious the situation is. He deflates in the seat, leaning back as he rests the baby on his chest, taking his phone out, he caves.

Between calling his mother and Caitlyn, he chooses Caitlyn. She has a key, she also wouldn’t think he’s lost it. Looking at his phone he does see a few missed calls from his mother and even more from work.

Shit.

Admittedly, Yesterday Jayce had planned to be dead by this point in the day and he had been so caught up in Viktor and the baby he didn’t think to call into work. The design wasn’t done, but if someone could hold Bonte for just a moment, he could finalize it on a napkin and send it in. It would make his team angry, but it wasn’t as though they were doing anything better than he was.

Caitlyn’s confused on the phone when he asks her to pick up breast milk from his fridge, to not be alerted by the broken door and meet him in the waiting room of the hospital. She does so quickly, with her partner Vi at her side.

Unfortunately, while he waits a police officer has sat down beside him and has attempted to ask leading questions.

“You know…couples fight,” the man says, leaning forward, “especially after havin’ a new baby. It must be hard. Omegas can get pretty…volitle after giving birth.”

Jayce turns to look at the officer, his eyes are tired and he wants to tell him to fuck off, but he know’s that’s not the correct answer. Instead Jayce switches Bronte from each hand, showing the man his fists. He doesn’t say a word, but he wants to tell him that being volatile wouldn’t be a good reason to hit someone. He’s walking in eggshells, holding Bronte and saying no to anyone who asks to hold her.

They haven’t thrown him in the back of a police car, they haven’t tried to talk to him and the social worker has disappeared. Jayce has a strong feeling that isn’t typical in situations like this. 

Everything about this seems suspicious and Jayce feels guilty for not convincing him to go in for help. He’d been so focused on making Viktor feel welcome, on feeling safe and a sense of being, but it hadn’t been the first thing he should have looked into. Focused so hard on that he didn’t notice the signs or the common sense that Viktor could be in danger or distress. 

They see the bruising on Viktor’s face, they see him as an Alpha who has an iron grip on a newborn baby. One that Jayce knows if he lets go of, he might not be able to see again.

It looks bad and he knows it, the people looking at him either think he’s an abusive partner or they’ll think he kidnapped him. His mother would kill him, but the societal repercussions aren’t as loud as the matter’s whose hands grip tightly upon his shoulders.

They are loud, they don’t whisper.

If Hector reported Viktor missing, it’ll open a larger can of worms. He’s sure they are looking up missing persons information and Jayce wonders if Viktor will pop up. Not that he believes that Viktor would lie to him, but because he doesn’t know exactly who Hector is. Nor if he would go looking for him.

The eyes upon his back are drilling through his skin and bone.

A police officer is talking to someone now, Jayce can see it from his peripheral. It’s hard to keep composure, but he has to do his best for Bronte. She hasn’t cried much, but he’s sure she’s tired, he adjusts his hold so she’s laying down on his arm. She’s so incredibly small.

 The best case scenario here is that they think something terrible happened and that Jayce is incompetent, knowing only his mate’s name and birth day. No one has come to ask him what happened to Viktor’s face, and he has to wonder if there was something else under all those bruises that he hadn’t known about.

Caitlyn shows up nearly a half hour later, she’s confused but doesn’t grill him, instead sitting beside him and giving him the milk. She has done her best to keep it cool and Jayce’s hands are still shaking as he prepares the bottle and gives it to Bronte.

“Jayce…” Caitlyn whispers, looking down to the baby, then to him, “What’s going on?”

“I…” Jayce purses his lips, this was the first time that Bronte was feeding from him, the first time that she was taking a bottle, the first time she didn’t have Viktor, “I’ll explain everything to you later,” he looks at her earnestly, “But I can’t right now.”

The social worker and the cop are gone now, but Jayce doesn’t feel put at ease.

“Okay,” Caitlyn nods, right now, the only thing Jayce wanted was support, “How can I help?”

“Go back in time about two hours,” Jayce sighs, “tell me to get my ass out of bed and check on Viktor.”

“Viktor?”

“He-”

“Jayce,” Mel calls to him from a pair of double sided doors, her ipad is in her hand and her expression is unreadable. 

Jayce swallows hard, “Sorry Sprout, I’ll catch you up later, okay? I really appreciate you running this over for her.”

“I can hold-”

“No,” Jayce is quick to reject her, “No I have her.”

Concern is clear on Caitlyn’s face, she looks from Jayce down to the baby in his arms. She knows that this baby isn’t his, Jayce wasn’t the type to sleep around, he was too busy working on prototypes and conducting research to try and build a relationship with anyone. Even then, Jayce’s pheromones were strong around the two of them, even their house was flooded with his own scent mixed with one completely unfamiliar to him.

“Okay,” Caitlyn helps him stand, she adjusts the diaper bag onto his shoulders once more before she looks to Mel, “You’re friend Viktor, is he back there?”

“He is.”

“Is this his baby?”

Jayce’s jaw is tight as he nods, the muscles of his jaw would begin to ache soon. With his imaginary tail between his legs, Jayce follows where Mel is standing. 

“How is he?”

Mel holds the door open and allows him to follow her into an exam room, Viktor isn’t there, but there is a scale and other things used to check on a baby. Mel doesn’t say anything until the door is closed, until Jayce has sat down and has resumed feeding Bronte.

With a sigh, Mel puts the iPad down and turns to Jayce, through all the years of them knowing one another, he’d never done something like this. Even then, though, she knows that he wouldn’t hurt someone like Viktor had been hurt, that there is so much more to this story.

“You’ll be able to see him later, after social services and the police talk to him.”

No.

“What? No!” Jayce startles up, but he keeps Bronte and her bottle steady, “Social Services? Mel you know how they are with omega parents, especially ones like Viktor. They’ll take her-”

“Jayce,” she steps closer to him, puts her hand gently on his shoulder and leads him back down into the seat, “You signed his name as Talis , according to hospital records he’s not a single parent, but with that being said….I had to pull a few strings with them to let you sit there. Can you please explain to me, what the hell is going on.”

Before Jayce tells her anything, he feeds and burps Bronte before laying her down across his forearm to sleep. It’s not the most comfortable position, but she doesn’t fuss over it. Mel sits down across from him in a rolling chair, her legs crossed as she waits and listens. When he explains how he met Viktor, he leaves out the part that they were both going to jump.

Mel was one of his best friends, but she was a doctor and certainly dedicated to her work. If he told her that, there would be a chance each of them would be committed and Bronte sent off to her biological dad or foster care.

The story is changed, that he found Viktor running from an abusive relationship and takes him in, it’s not a lie, but it’s not the entire truth. Lying to her didn’t feel right, but her obligation to her job would certainly override their closeness if he misspoke.

Which he would.

He finishes the story but the pressure on his shoulders doesn’t feel any lighter, he wants to ask about Viktor and suddenly, he feels so incredibly tired. Mel’s breathing is steady, she stands from her chair and puts her arms out for Bronte.

“Let’s give peanut a check up.”

“Bronte,” Jayce hands her to Mel and watches as she shifts into her work persona.

It’s not too different from her normal one, but she always lights up differently when speaking to babies and children. Bronte is a little fussy when she’s woken up, but Mel is able to placate her and get her work done while talking simultaneously. 

“I normally wouldn’t tell you another patient’s information, but you did sign his last name as Talis and that you were his proxy ... .which, I will say will be an issue if you never go to court because it’s not true. ”

“I’m not good under pressure!” Jayce sinks back in the chair for a moment, “You don’t…you don’t need to tell me anything personal, I don’t want…”

I don’t want to invade his privacy.

“Viktor will be alright, but he’s going to need a lot of support and care while he recovers. I’m going to speak to him when he wakes and offer him resources, I assume they’ll be staying with you?”

Jayce nods and then he yawns, without Bronte in his arms he feels his body begin to slow and himself begin to tire. Sleep hadn’t been his friend the past two days, he wouldn’t trade it and he’d stay up as late as needed for Bronte, for Viktor.

“She’s on the lighter side, unsure if that’s from Viktor’s genetics or given the circumstances,” Mel wraps up the check up, turning to point down to Bronte, “She does have clubfoot.”

Sleep had attempted to tempt Jayce, his eyelids heavy as they closed as he leaned against the seat. The room was private, the baby was with someone he would trust with his life, it was harder to resist with each passing moment. As Mel spoke about Bronte, Jayce shot up instantly into a standing position. He scrambled over to Mel’s slide, to the counter and little space that Bronte was laying in.

His mind is a mess as he looks down, seeing her in a setting that hadn’t been his arms or Viktor’s. He had changed her, held and cuddled her, but he hadn’t once noticed that her feet curled in upon themselves. It felt like an injustice, it felt as though he had personally done something wrong. 

Both of baby Bronte’s feet did not lay typically. One was much straighter while the other had a much more drastic tilt. Jayce’s stomach dropped, new questions appearing in his head. Was it the way he had held her? Was she born this way? Is she in pain? What would he tell Viktor?

“I..how didn’t we notice that?” Jayce’s voice trembles slightly, voice soft.

“Sleep deprivation, survival mode, the whirlwind of parenthood,” Mel writes down a few notes before looking back to Jayce, “It’s treatable, a common birth defect, nothing Viktor did. Treating it can be a lengthy process, I’ll go over it with Viktor when he’s ready.”

As she wraps up her notes she turns to look at Jayce, it’s obvious that Jayce hasn’t had sleep in days and she suspects it might even be before he met Viktor. Jayce’s mental health had always been careful waters you’d have to tread in, but she usually dove in with her hands forward and protected. 

“For now, Jayce. I can pull a few strings and get you and Bronte a place to sleep, alright? I’ll have Elora add it to her rotation, we have a rather slow night, surprisingly,” Mel adjusts Bronte’s clothing before looking at Jayce. She was going to hand her back, when she got a whiff of her.

“Jayce…”

“What?” Jayce reaches towards the baby, but Mel tilts her body away, eyes a little wider as she stares with surprise, “What?”

“You scent bonded with this baby,” Mel looks at him as though he’s the most irresponsible person in the world, “A pup bond with a baby that isn’t yours…Jayce Talis, do you know how careless that is?”

“Mel, I have no idea what you are talking about.”

She turns on her heel and leaves the room, she motions him to follow her as she leads him into a separate ward of the hospital. The entire time she’s holding Bronte closer to her, sniffing once and a while to see if she had been wrong, she hadn’t. Mel hadn’t gotten a chance to smell Viktor, but it was easy to assume that was the mixture occurring on Bronte.

Jayce follows, “What does that mean?”

Mel doesn’t answer until they are in a room, until she’s placed Bronte down in a cot and closed the door behind them. Then she looks at Jayce, a few different emotions are clear on her face, she’s impressed yet disappointed, she’s amazed and confused.

“You scented Bronte, so much that her pup scent is a combination of both you and Viktor. This will last until Bronte presents herself.”

I can only hope that they stay in your life, Jayce, Mel thinks, not yet ready to say it outloud, breaking a bond like this is horrible.

“I didn’t mean to do that-”

“I’m sure you didn’t, but you did,” Mel heads to the door, “Get some rest, Elora will be in to check on Bronte and I’ll let you know when you are able to see Viktor.”

Jayce is left in the silence of a dimmed room, there is no clock on the wall and there is no sway of the pendulum. All there is is the ambient sounds of a hospital outside the door, it feels soulless and his arms feel empty.

He heads to the bed, not before stopping by Bronte and gently touching her head, looking down to study the curves of her feet. Viktor used a crutch, but he didn’t know enough about him to know if this was genetic or just happened. If he wasn’t exhausted, if sleep wasn’t pulling down upon his eyelids, he would have googled it.

“Goodnight Bunny Girl,” Jayce leans down, instinctively ready to kiss her brown mess of hair. 

Just as his lips are to graze the tender part of her head, Jayce stops. Up close he can smell it, milk and amber, warm and calm. It’s not a perfect combination of their scents, it’s missing Viktor’s floral and sweeter notes while missing Jayce’s cedarwood. Yet somehow, they melt together seamlessly, as a pack would, as a family should.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t felt some attachment for Bronte and he feared that it would be too soon or weird, to say he loved the little girl like his own. But that was the problem, for Jayce this seemed like another thing he had taken from Viktor. Jayce hadn’t meant to do it, all he wanted to do was help, to soothe them both.

Pursing his lips he pulls himself back, reminding himself that this child wasn’t his own to kiss despite Viktor’s offer of taking her. Swallowing hard he takes a step back, glances once more to her feet, the little socks upon them. He’d put them on her and didn’t think once about how they were shaped.

There is no clock on the wall, but Jayce feels the ticking, he knows the pendulum is preparing to swing once more, but he feels ill prepared for its momentum. Walking backwards, he finds himself in the bed, kicking off his shoes before he lays down. He hopes that Viktor is alright and wishes he could see him, to make sure that the path he’d begun to forge hadn’t burned down.

Closing his eyes, he falls asleep.

Notes:

Celebrating some art:

Jayce and Viktor meeting on the bridge by Tayyellowsugar: https://x.com/TayARMY22/status/1921942198116831519

"Do you want her" scene from Chapter 2 by Ames: https://x.com/corkyno/status/1927010865380819163

Jayce & Bronte by Kotamadaa: https://x.com/kotamadaa/status/1927535590192316912

Adult Diapers by Nam: https://x.com/A_L_I_E_N_xdxd/status/1927843869745631281

Chapter 5: But she's perfect

Notes:

Crying over the support for this fic! Again I can’t thank you enough.
I will continue to add any art to the final note at the end of the fic

(I suggest listening to Let Down by Radiohead for this one)

 

Tw: mentions of past rape

As Viktor comes to, he’s greeted by the face of a woman with golden freckles and green eyes who peers over him briefly before turning to a monitor. Her hair is in locs, tied up upon her head with gold beads that catch the light. She hums, soft and serene, tempting Viktor to close his eyes again to the soothing sound of her voice. It reminds him of when he was younger, it reminds him of his parents soothing him as a pup. Whomever she is, she gave the presence of gentleness and warmth.

The pain in his head has subsided, same with his body, but he knows it’s only a temporary reprieve. Medications flow through his blood to minimize the effects of the past few days. Slowly he returns to consciousness in its entirety, his senses allowing him to see the expanse of the room beyond himself and her. Tilting his head, he turns to look at the woman sitting beside him, her straight posture, the way her eyes turn upwards at the corners.

Mel notices that he’s moved once more, the first time she waited to allow him to settle into himself, learning from years of practice. As he stirs she finishes up what she’s doing before turning to greet him.

She has gold eyeliner under her eyes, it’s elegant but doesn’t clash with her scrubs. She’s beautiful, radiant really. Viktor squints from the light beaming over her head. Somehow, she steps right in front of it to block it as she introduces herself.

“Hello,” she’s pleasant, “I’m Mel Medarda, I’m the OBY/GYN that assessed and worked with you when you arrived.”

Her voice is familiar and she’s beginning to look slightly familiar. It can be seen now, when he was pulled in half delirious with tears running down his eyes and bile in his mouth.

We’re going to help you, she had told him, she’d held his hand.

“Viktor,” he introduces himself, “Did I…” his voice cracks a little bit, his eyes dart away from her as he stares up at the ceiling, “Did I fuck up?”

Laying in a hospital bed was proof enough that he had done something wrong, that he ignored his body and every single sign that he wasn’t doing well. The question was heavy, so much more than asking if he had done something incorrect on a test. 

Viktor was asking if he had lost his uterus, if his neglect had led them to remove a piece of him.

“No, no you didn’t,” Mel’s voice is soft as she places her hand on the bed beside him, “You didn’t fuck up. You were scared, you didn’t know.”

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, forcing his breathing steady as he attempts to keep the tears from welling up again. It’s easier to blame it on the hormones than the combination of those and the events he’s been going through, to accept that he’s allowed to cry.

No, not that he’s allowed to, but he can and needs to. 

“Did I lose my…” his voice quivers as a spider’s web does, he can’t force himself to ask because he fears the answer.

“No,” Mel smiles reassuringly, “We caught it in time, you still have it, though if you decide to get pregnant again, it will be absolutely vital that you receive prenatal care.”

A world where Viktor is able to get pregnant again is so far away from his current reality, that her advice floats past his ears. With a bond mark, he can only get pregnant from Hector and Viktor would truly, rather die.

“Um,” Viktor clears his throat, “Did I arrive alone?”

“No, Jayce and Bronte came too, but they are resting right now.”

Again, he feels he owes Jayce an apology for carving out so much of his time. Bits and pieces of what happened are coming back to him, he remembers Bronte’s screams and Jayce’s warm arms once more.

During his delusions, during the confusion, he briefly thought that it was Hector who had held him. When he was scared, it was Hector he thought was going to drop the blade upon his neck; the separation sickness wanted it to be him comforting him, him speaking with such concern.

But that wasn’t what Viktor wanted, he didn’t want Hector. Even if the man managed to better himself, to completely change, he didn’t think he could forgive him. There was too much darkness weighing upon his broken heart, too many cracks he needed to fill with sand and glue.

“I want to go over your chart with you,” Mel grabs the Ipad and places it on her lap, “but the social worker wants to speak with you as well as the police.”

Viktor winced, shaking his head as he went to push himself up, only then realizing that two of his fingers had splints placed upon them, “Jayce didn’t do this, I can assure you.”

“I know, but the EMS alerted the police to the bruising on your face and it connects with some of our findings when we brought you in. Your Milk Fangs are a reason alone for the police and social services to get involved.” Mel opens his chart and hands it to him, “You’ve been in fight or flight mode, pumping so much adrenaline through your body, that you might not have realized how much pain you were in.”

“I knew I was injured…” Viktor admits, but he looks down to his chart.

Lacerations on the liver

Bruised lung 

Fractured ribs

Broken fingers

Milk Fangs

Infected Bond mark- Rejection

Viktor knew that he was injured, he had an inkling that something wasn’t right but he had not  thought he was this injured. His lips parted, all of this, and none of it had been what brought him here. Being used as a punching bag wasn’t what brought him to the hospital, but the isolated birth of his daughter did; how cruel. A tightness forms in his throat as he stares down at those results, there is so much more.

Anemic, nutrient deficiencies 

Postpartum preeclampsia- medication administered

Retained placenta-treatement

Uterine Atony-treatment

Risk of Sepsis-antibiotics administered

You’re fucked up and broken. You know why I stay with you? You’re like an injured rabbit, you can’t get away, but I can have as much fun as I want hunting you down.

Any children we have are going to be as fucked up as you. Broken and ugly.

“It’s a lot,” Mel puts her hand onto the chart, “But it’s all things we can treat.”

“And the police, they… want me to tell them who did this?” Viktor grabs at his hospital gown in an attempt to soothe himself, “I want to escape him, not remind him I exist. I want him to think I’m dead.”

“You don’t have to press any charges, you can just file a report.. along with speaking to the social worker who can provide you with excellent services for omegas who've survived domestic violence.”

Survived , the word almost tasted bitter.

Without Bronte beside him, without Jayce’s large pleading eyes, he really wonders what he’s surviving for. If he had died, there would be no risk. If Jayce wanted Bronte, he could raise her and he could vanish into the shadows of their memory.

The void whispers back into his ear, calling him, asking him to swing over the edge of the Bridge of Progress. Freefall into the darkness, feel the cold waters crash around him as his bones break, as he drowns.

Viktor can’t swim.

“It’ll clear Jayce’s name,” Mel has grown weary of his silence, of the far off look in his eyes as he begins to fall deeper into himself, “just a report. It won’t alert him if you don’t press charges. If you ever decide to build a case, it can help.”

Jayce , Viktor snaps out of it.

How could he be so selfish as to let Jayce take the fall?

“Alright.”

“I’ll get them, then I’ll return and give you a better understanding of what’s going on with you, alright?” She stands, her hands folded in front of her as she looks at him, “Viktor, I need to ask if that man did anything else to you that we can report on or collect evidence for.”

The room is quiet, there is no awkwardly ticking clock, just silence as Viktor digests her words. There had been countless times that Hector had beaten him and countless times that he’d forced himself onto Viktor, so much so that Viktor stopped keeping track. If his brain allowed him to disassociate, to go someplace else, he would do so without resistance. 

“I’ve showered,” Viktor’s mouth goes dry, “I’ve been in the rain…there won’t be anything. You…” he places his hand upon his abdomen, it feels a little smaller now, but only slightly, “Scraped things out…there won’t be anything.”

Hector has always told him that it didn’t matter what Viktor had said, no one would believe an omega anyway. Especially one that was bonded and was claiming that this was coming from their alpha; Hector owned him, heart, womb and soul.

Viktor swallows hard, “I’m his mate. He…he is allowed to.”

Mel’s heart softens, she sounds so incredibly sad, “No, Viktor. He’s not.”

It was easier to believe with every fiber of his being, that Hector was allowed to do what he had done. That the man had full control over every inch of his body, instead of just accepting what he was actually doing.

Sexual assault, Rape.

A crack forms in the walls he put up, in the door that Jayce has knocked on. All this time he knew that it wasn’t right, that this wasn't what he deserved but he kept justifying it, justifying Hector’s actions.

For what?

The walls don’t crumble yet and it will take time for them to shrink, but the cracks will allow for moss and weeds to thrive and bloom, for ivy to cling to something and continue to erode them away. When those walls fall, if Viktor ever finds the ability to allow them to, the sound they make will be louder than Bronte’s cry.

Sitting in the hospital bed, he has no one, at least not yet, not even his Bronte. Bunny. Again he can’t breathe, his hand is gripping at his hospital gown as he sobs, open mouthed and ugly. Mel stands still for a moment before returning back to Viktor’s side, she has a seat beside him.

“Is there anyone I can call?”

“No,” Viktor almost laughs, “No one. It was always just…him. Always Hector, only Hector.”

Everyone was pushed away or went away as Hector gave him the bricks to build his walls. Bronte and Jayce can’t see him yet, Jayce needs rest and needs his name cleared before anyone lets him in. He’s left all alone by himself.

Mel knows that separation between omega and pup isn’t sustainable for long without intervention, she also knows that pup now shares a scent with Jayce Talis. Silently she gloves her hands.

“How is your separation sickness?” Mel reaches her hand out, waiting for his wrist.

Viktor swallows his tears, but sniffles as he holds his wrist out to her. She takes it gingerly before examining the scent marker on his wrist, lifting it up slightly.

“Unpleasent,” he admits, looking towards her, “But…not as bad as I thought.”

“Can you release some of your pheromones for me?”

And he does and through the burning fields of lavender, the smoke of despair and hopelessness, the sweetness of carrying a pup, Mel reaches the sapling in the middle of the field. The one of cedarwood and amber, one that she was all too familiar with. 

Gods, Jayce.

“I’ll prescribe something for it,” she lets go of his hand, looking towards his neck now, “Once everything is said and done, we can talk about your bondmark, alright?”

“Can it…be removed?”

“It’s rejecting a bit,” Mel doesn’t touch Viktor without his consent, instead looking as he moves his hair out of the way, “removing is a very difficult process and if you want to do it, I’d suggest doing so when Bronte is a little older. It…also comes with a few stipulations.”

Somehow, all of the things that Viktor had been worried about a few days ago, could actually have possible solutions. Even though those solutions could be difficult, they were there. He couldn’t see it at the time, he couldn’t see anything. It doesn’t erase the pain or the suffering, it doesn’t make each passing moment any easier… but it gives him something to see in the future.

Something to see on the path before him.

The void has fallen silent, Viktor only hears Mel checking on him one last time before going to get the social worker and the police officer. Viktor swallows hard and sits up a little taller, this was a positive step in the right direction but this was just as scary as standing over the Bridge of Progress.

This was more inconclusive, more unknown and mysterious than death. This had so many more possibilities, so many worse things that could go wrong while equally presenting him with just as many better things. How oddly comforting it was, to be afraid of the future when before he thought he lacked one. It won’t be a swift change, but gradually and slowly, he’s reassured once more that maybe he could do this.

The door opens and Viktor must put his body on display for evidence to be collected, he’ll feel filthy as he had in the past, but he’s hoping it’ll be the last time eyes will look upon him to examine and scrutinize. 

He’s soaked through his gown once or twice during the exam, during the questioning and he had to pump while being perceived by strangers. Poked and prodded as pictures were taken of him. They attempted samples, but Viktor feels there wouldn't be any evidence there, but he does it anyway.

He accepts what has been done to him, the things outside of his control. It hurts and he wants to curl up and vanish, but he can’t do that, but he wants to. Inside though, he wants to go back to Jayce’s place if he’s still welcome, the warm bed that was the closest thing to home he’s experienced. He wants to try, to fight his own brain and work with his body to survive.

One day, someone will look upon him with awe and admiration, admire the curves of his hips and his crooked nose. One day, someone will touch him with gentle hands, kiss his scars and leave marks of tender love all over the blemished and unblemished skin.

Kissing him anew, allowing him to grow in the cracks that have formed upon him.

He just doesn’t know it yet.

He just can’t see it yet.

—--

In his dream, Jayce is standing at the precipice of the Bridge of Progress. The wind tossels his hair, but he can’t hear it over the arguing of his coworkers beside him. They ask him what’s next, they focus on his successes but ten times more on his failures, on how late his work is, how inconsistent his personality can be.

Jayce has been nothing but polite, never once short, and always respectable. But it’s never enough for them, it’s never enough when they use your brain as the root of their success. Jayce would never admit it, he’d never think that highly of himself either, but they need him the most. Those who support him the most, aren’t usually in his department. Working too far from him to run over ideas with, he wants to return to the lab.

The world tilts slightly, his weight falling heavy on one leg as he considers his life again, lifting his foot up to tempt the void. To see if she reaches her hands up to grab him, that in death there will no longer be these drastic ups and downs. There is just nothing. No turmoil, no decisions to make, just silence.

Peace.

Bronte cries , death isn’t peace-

A third path, a fourth, it’s nothing-

Viktor laughs softly, And flowers can’t bloom in nothing-

They can grow in soil, they can cultivate in ash and ruin, but not nothing.

Thunder breaks behind him and he pivots himself in an attempt to pull his foot back, to place it back on solid ground and dodge the void. But his movements are too slow and she’s greedy and determined, her hands grip upon his foot thin, skeletal. Wrapped around his shoe she pulls him downwards, teeth of rot and despair smiling back at him.

Jayce screams, rotating backwards as he reaches his hand out. For anyone in that group of coworkers, for anyone with all of those expectations to grab him. None of them look his way, their backs are turned, they’ve vanished from beside him.

But Viktor’s hand reaches for his; seconds before there’s contact Jayce wakes.

He awakes with a start, sitting up violently to see Elora standing beside the cot. She’s facing him and holding Bronte with a bottle in her hands, she’s smiling and talking to the baby. It’s her job, but she does it with so much ease Jayce nearly forgets it's her job.

It felt natural to himself too, with how often he breaks glasses in his home, one would think he’d be nervous to hold something so precious. But his fingers work nimbly in the lab, his sketches and steps careful, he cradled her as though it was his density. Viktor clung to her like a vessel and then held her in fear, despite holding her just as gently.

Viktor’s nervousness was clear, whether it be from holding her or just having her.

Bronte is resistant to Elora’s feedings, fussy in her arms despite her coddling.

“I can take it from here,” Jayce yawns as he gets off the bed and readjusts his clothes, he really could use a shower.

Elora looks at Jayce, seeing the pillow indents on his face before she laughs softly, Jayce sleeps heavy and hard.

“It’s my job, don’t worry!” she looks back at Bronte, “Little Lady wasn’t so fussy until now.”

The answer is clear, Bronte doesn’t have Viktor near  her nor the alpha she pup bonded with. Jayce smiles sheepishly before he steps forward to take her, Mel must not have let Elora in on that. He’s thankful, because Elora would have likely given him a respectful but well needed earful that Mel wasn’t ready to give yet.

Giving in, Elora passes Bronte over along with the bottle once Jayce has sat down. She watches as Bronte goes to the nipple and starts drinking right away, she raises a brow as though impressed.

“Ah, she must have known you were awake,” Elora sighed, “Picky already? Viktor will have his hands full.”

It would have been more natural for Elora to have said, She knew Papa was awake or Just in time for Daddy! But neither of those things seemed to apply here, instead she fumbled awkwardly with the situation. It was hard not to think, seeing how well the two meshed together.

“Any word on Viktor?” Jayce asks as he feeds her, she’s a good eater.

“Busy day ahead for him, but when he’s up to it I’m sure we’ll be able to get Bronte in to see him,” She watches as Jayce’s eye darts up to her, “and you as well.”

“Busy? Is he alright?”

“He agreed to make a police report against the alpha who hurt him, they’re going to collect evidence and that is mentally draining in itself,” Elora crosses her arms, “Take a shower and wash up, I assume you’ll want to stay close by in case he needs her?”

That’s exactly what Jayce does, after he feeds and burps Bronte he realizes that he has quite a few phone calls to make. As much as he didn’t want to and as much as he had planned not to return to work after the bridge, he finds himself having to deal with work again. He’ll have to put up with the criticism and complaints, and continue to push forward.

Now Jayce had to think about the future, he had to think about finishing his work, calling his mother and letting her know that he was alright and fully explaining to Caitlyn what was going on. The future was terrifying when you didn’t know what to expect, but Jayce knew what the mundane looked like, he’d been living in it.

Before any of that, though, he orders a few things; a stroller, a harness, and a carseat. Some of these things are delivered to his house, but the harness is ubered to the front of the hospital. The rest of the day, until Viktor requests either Bronte or them both, they would be getting some things done together after a shower.

When he calls his mother, she’s anxious and halfway to shouting over the phone. Ximena isn’t one to raise her voice often, but when she does she has good reason. She thought that she had lost her son to his mania or his depression, to his illness that he side steps every once and a while, that the void had called to him and he listened. She’s relieved that she was wrong, not knowing that he had nearly made her correct. 

Jayce explains little to her, letting her know that he’s at the hospital with a friend she hasn’t met yet, that he’s helping watch over his baby and that he’ll share more later. This appeases her, she’ll see if she can extend his deadline and offers him all her love and kisses before hanging up.

As time moves forward, Jayce keeps himself busy. He gives Bronte tummy time and feeds her, at one point he’s given breastmilk in a bottle, somehow through all of the chaos, Viktor managed to pump for Bronte.

I don’t like my breasts , Viktor had said.

Despite this he chooses to do something selfish, to pour from an empty cup in order to fill Brontes. Viktor doesn’t have to breastfeed, he knows this as does Jayce, but still he persists. He does it out of his own volition, a decision Jayce can’t understand and likely never will.

He yearns to learn more about Viktor, recalling now the question he had made about Piltover University. Jayce had been so proud to announce where he went, but hadn’t asked where Viktor had graduated from. There had been so little that they had talked about in the grand scheme of things, yet he didn’t feel like Viktor was a complete stranger. It was strange and maybe it was because of their scents mixing with Bronte, but he already thought of Viktor as a friend.

Halfway through the day, an officer comes into the room, the same one who tried to grill him the day before. The one who tried to imply it was alright to beat an omega, Jayce wants to believe that it was something he said to make friends with the enemy, to make him feel comfortable.

Despite not having discussed it with Viktor, the two of them had stories that aligned incredibly well. Keeping their answers rather vague and sticking to what was true; Jayce found Viktor walking after being beaten by Hector, Viktor gave birth at home.

“It doesn’t piss you off that your omega had a baby with his ex?” The man looks disgusted.

Jayce is holding onto Bronte’s legs, gently moving them in a stretch that Mel had shown him. He doesn’t want to look at the officer, so he doesn’t bother turning his head.

Your omega , it was traditional but certainly a way some people still thought.

Thinking of a person as a possession.

“Our relationship came after,” Jayce says flatly, “Does that bother you?”

“You married a pregnant omega? Then the ex beats the shit out of him? Why weren’t you keeping tabs on him? I’d put mine in ‘er place if she went to fuck around with an ex,” he crosses his arms, looking disgusted but not at Jayce.

“Are you here to question my character or complete your report? Hector beat Viktor, I brought him back home and everything went wrong.”

The door swings open to reveal the officer's partner, he looks nervous and uncertain. He looks like he wants to go home, Jayce doesn’t think he’s cut out for this line of work.

“Finished up, can we go now? I’m tired of being here,” the man’s voice gets a little lower.

“Yeah yeah, let me just give some life advice,” the first one waves his partner off, turning back to Jayce one last time, “If he’d done it once, he’ll do it again. Omegas just can’t handle themselves, put that boy on a leash and you’ll be a lot happier.”

Jayce is stunned in silence, sitting on the bed with his lips parted in an uncomfortable and angry gasp. Seconds too late, he has a few decent comebacks for the man; ones that would fall on deaf and ignorant ears. How a man who seemed so angry with omegas ended up on a job like this was beyond him. He really hoped the other officer was the one to collect Viktor’s statement, but he truly didn’t know.

The day continues on and he calls Caitlyn and explains a little more about what happened the night before. She’s somehow, not surprised by his behavior, he hears Vi congratulating Caitlyn on becoming an aunt followed by a playful yelp.

As the sun begins to set and visiting hours have ended, Jayce has given up the idea that they would be able to visit Viktor. He’s also wondering if Mel is going to allow him to stay one more night or if this was her silent way of telling him to go home. It doesn’t make him that anxious to be alone with Bronte, but it does make him anxious that Viktor and Bronte had been separated for so long.

A knock at the door has Jayce going from sketching on a napkin to holding his breath as Mel comes in with Elora at her side.

“Viktor’s asking for you two,” Mel takes a step to widen the door, “We are going to sneak you in, so be good.”

Jayce laughs, putting Bronte into the harness before he follows after her, “Can’t abuse your kindness by getting you in trouble, Mel. That would be rude of me.”

“I’m going to inform him of Bronte’s condition as well, he’ll be ready for discharge tomorrow but will need follow up,” Mel leads them down the hall, up the elevator and into a different section of the maternity ward, “Viktor has given consent for you to be informed of things moving forward, while it’s not legally a medical proxy, he did sign it off on the paperwork you left unfinished.”

Stranger, friend, scent sharing baby, and now medical proxy.

His house isn’t going to be a shell, empty, taunting him of his solitude by choice, by genius. Two days ago, Jayce was going to throw himself off a bridge. He stops walking and begins to laugh, so full and hearty that Bronte squirms against his chest, she doesn’t cry, but she does make a slight sound of displeasure.

“Sorry, Bunny Girl,” he chokes, tears are in his eyes as he laughs, one hand wiping them away while the other sits against Bronte’s back, “Your entire life has been my craziest few days.”

Mel raises a brow, watching as his cheeks shift shades and his eyes glisten in the artificial light of the hallway. There is something so much more underneath his laugh, she could nearly reach out and touch it, to smell it upon his scent if he offered his wrist. But this wasn’t the time or place.

Instead she waits for him to gather himself before they make the final few steps to Viktor’s room, opening the door and letting him in.

“I'll be back in a few minutes to talk about Bronte, I’ll knock.” She smiles before leaving.

Despite being physically and emotionally exhausted, despite the medication waning and him allowing himself to feel the remnants of pain, the reminders that he was still there, he still yearned to see them. As the door opened, Viktor turned slightly onto his side, his eyelids heavy with a long needed rest, but his heart wanted to see his baby.

The primal desire to see Bronte was unlike anything he’d ever experienced, the change was so incredibly drastic from thinking about parting with her. During his questioning, during his examinations, he needed to pump or he had become so incredibly distressed the social worker had to put everything to a halt. 

Some energy is returned to him as Jayce walks in, Bronte strapped onto his chest in a harness that he suspected was brand new. Viktor is careful when he sits up, thinking of all the alignments that wrack his body.

“Look Bunny girl,” Jayce stands next to the bed as he begins to take Bronte out of the harness, “Táta is here!”

Viktor adjusts how he sits, leaning back and carefully knowing that he has a weight restriction he needs to be wary of. He’s smiling, he’s so genuinely happy to be reunited with his daughter and his breasts are already leaking again.

“Do you think she’ll be hungry?” Viktor’s voice is a little raw, his eyes a little swollen, but there’s a light in them now.

“Mhm, I think so,” Jayce grins, “I’ll give you privacy.”

“No,” Viktor shakes his head, one hand adjusting his gown, “It’s fine, have a seat.”

Jayce does so, sitting down with his back perfectly straight, he wants to help Viktor adjust himself, but refrains. Bronte latches just fine, despite having taken a bottle for a few feeds. They sit in silence, Viktor looking down to admire his little girl.

Viktor had wanted to be loved by Hector, unconditionally and whole just as much as he wanted to continue to love the man. Love him despite the harm and turmoil, Viktor clung onto the belief that he didn’t deserve anything other than this, that his dreams were childish.

That there was nothing else.

But Bronte was all that love that Viktor had for a fruitless relationship, every ounce of love that Viktor wished he had, manifested in an entirely new being. Just as he had been made so desperately out of love, so was Bronte, even if it was only one side, even if it was out of desperation.

“Jayce… I’m sorry.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” Jayce leans forward, watching Viktor’s expression soften as he looks at Bronte, “You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

The conversation quiets after that, Viktor knows that Jayce is right but it’s impossible for his mind to wrap around it. His own negligence led to him bleeding in Jayce’s guestroom, his poor choices lead to occupying hours and now days of Jayce’s time.  But Jayce welcomes him with open arms, but the man himself seems just as unstable as he is.

Bronte finishes her feed and Viktor gives her a soft kiss on the head, Jayce helps burp her before she’s laid down again on Viktor’s chest. She lifts her head up, shakily but she does look towards Viktor, she can recognize him by the way he breathes, how he smells, and how he speaks. She knows him inside and out, she finds comfort in his arms.

Viktor leans forward a little bit, pressing his lips against the top of her head as he gives her another little kiss. He doesn’t apply any pressure, but he sits there and inhales her; he had only been a day, but he missed her.

She smells like milk and amber and it warms his soul and comforts his heart. Viktor doesn’t yet realize where the Amber came from, he doesn’t register that he was fully enveloped in it in Jayce’s home and the man beside him radiates the same scent. All he knows is that she doesn’t smell like Hector, like misery and hopelessness.

As Viktor sighs once more, as his shoulders relax and he sinks fully in the scent of this safe bubble that was born in this sterile room, he feels a tickle at his throat. It’s a soft hum, gentle and rolling that he doesn’t suspect in the least.

Jayce has put his elbow on the arm of the chair, watching the two of them in silent admiration when he starts to hear Viktor purr. He smiles, watching as Viktor’s cheeks flush around the bruises, how he only snuggles in closer to Bronte. It’s beautiful, a ceremony that he feels honored to be allowed to see- the bond between omega and pup.

“Do you want a picture?”

“Hm?” Viktor looks up to him through half lidded eyes, he wants to curl up with Bronte in a nest, to surround her with his pheromones and watch her drift to sleep, “Okay.”

The baby is the best sedative Viktor has experienced or he wouldn’t have agreed for the first picture of Bronte and him to be in a hospital bed, his face healing and his heart full. The first picture of himself and Bronte, in a hospital bed a few days after her birth. It’s almost what he wanted.

When the picture is taken, Viktor lowers Bronte to look towards Jayce, “Viktor Talis? I was unaware of our marriage, I would have appreciated you taking me out for a drink first.”

Jayce is caught off guard, he drops his phone onto his lap, “I was under pressure I-”

Viktor chuckles a bit, resting his head back against the pillows as he watches Jayce squirm in his seat, it’s endearing. 

“I filed a police report against Hector. I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you and your support. Thank you.”

“All I did was not jump either,” Jayce puts his hand to the back of his head, he felt so undeserving of this thank you, “Filing a report must have been hard, but I’m glad you did it.”

“I feel I should tell you more about how I ended up here,” Bronte grabs one of his unbroken fingers, “If you are opening your home to us, I need to tell you about Hector.”

Viktor makes this offer, but he’s so tired, he’s so comfortable and feeling the semblance of happiness. He doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, he doesn’t want to recall the things his brain has hidden away to protect him.

“I want to learn about you first,” Jayce says so quickly, he realizes he needs to reel it back, “You’ve had a long day, you don’t have to do it  now, you don’t have to do it anytime soon. You can tell me when you’re ready, if you want to.”

The entire day Viktor was being forced to relive and recall the most painful experiences of his life and Jayce didn’t want to add to that. He also didn’t want Viktor to think that he was only helping him in order to get his story, to hear of his suffering, to uplift his own ego. Jayce has seen the bruises, he’ll be allowed to see Viktor’s medical file if needed, he’s seen the way Viktor acts when a hand is lifted too close to his face.

Jayce doesn’t need to hear it, he can nearly feel it, he can see it.

All Jayce wants is to watch Viktor heal, to learn about him, to know what school he went to. To hear that purr again, his laugh, and learn about him.

“He’s a dangerous man,” Viktor counters, “If…he finds us, Jayce, it wouldn’t be fair to not tell you…”

“You can tell me,” Jayce isn’t sure why, but he reaches his hand out for Viktors. He doesn’t grab it on his own, just reaches out for him, “When you are ready.”

Viktor looks to his hand and just as Jayce isn’t sure why he reached out, Viktor doesn’t know why he takes Jayce’s hand in return. In comparison Jayce’s hands are large, his fingers have calluses from work and hobbies while Viktor’s are long and thin. Jayce’s thumb strokes against his skin and Viktor fears he’ll purr again.

For some reason, his touch doesn’t repulse him.

Mel knocks but the two don’t let go, they simply turn to look at her as she walks in.

There are plenty of other doctors who had helped Viktor with his various issues, but for some reason Mel had been the one to take the time out of her own schedule to talk to him. To walk him through everything despite her part in it being only a portion; she had held his hand and reassured him.

“Now,” Mel walks in and looks between both Jayce and Viktor, “Mr. and Mr. Talis,” she teases, “I'd like to go over your treatment plan along with talking about Bronte’s check up.”

Jayce’s heart drops, he forces his hand not to grip any tighter onto Viktor’s, he had forgotten to mention about Bronte’s foot and he knows Viktor will internalize it. He doesn't know Viktor enough to know if he accepts his own disabilities outside of whatever bullshit Hector had force fed him, he’s not sure. He’s not sure and his heart is starting to ache, because Viktor had just looked so happy, so incredibly at peace. 

Anxiety had never been one of Jayce’s friends, he starts to bounce his foot on the ground as he focuses on a mole that he notices is on Viktor’s hand. This isn’t his baby, nor his mate, but his stomach is already doing summersaults.

“Bronte first, please?”

“Of course,” she heads over to the computer, sits down in her chair and begins to type. She knows what she wants to say, but she always feels better having the information laid out in front of her in order to prevent any mistakes.

“She’s a little light but she feeds very well, I’m sure she’ll gain weight no problem. Was she born early?”

“I think so but I…I really don’t know,” there’s shame in his voice, “I should have gone to the hospital, is she alright? I was premature,” Viktor clarifies, “but I was much smaller than her, so I thought nothing was wrong.”

“I wouldn’t say she’s premature, just late preterm. Her lungs are healthy, she might need extra help regulating her body temperature,” she looks between both Viktor and Jayce, how Bronte already seems velcroed to their sides, “But I think she’ll warm up just fine between the two of you.”

“Now Viktor,” Mel rolls on over, putting her hands out to take Bronte from him before laying her down on the bed beside him, “One thing about Bronte…”

An overwhelming sense of dread washes over Viktor, he’s preparing himself for the shoe to drop. There was something wrong and she had started with what was alright; he squeezes Jayce’s hand as he feels his heart beginning to race.

When she’s laid down, Mel gently tugs at her onesie to better show Viktor her club foot, “She has clubfoot, which is a common birth defect that is treatable…”

Mel continues to speak, but Viktor isn’t hearing a single thing she is saying, the color drains from his face as her words echo

Birth defect.

“Birth defect,” Viktor repeats slowly, Mel doesn’t catch it, she hadn’t heard it in her explanation of a treatment plan, but Jayce does. His limbs feel heavy and weak, he’s glad he’s not holding Bronte anymore.

Jayce feels Viktor’s grip loosen from his palm, he goes from looking at Bronte and Mel to Viktor, “Viktor?”

Mel stops, turning to see Viktor’s eyes roll back, standing she quickly adjusts the bed, leaning his head backwards and down as she carefully lifts up his legs. Jayce scoops Bronte up once more, standing up as Mel changes gears. She calls for a nurse and Elora comes in with a few ice packs, tucking them behind Viktor’s neck, on his head, and his chest.

“I did this,” Viktor repeats as the blood is redirected to his head, as the ice packs cool down the panic that Hector had beaten into him, “Gods, I did this.”

“No, this is common,” Mel looks to his IV drip, to his heart rate and hopes that this was just a once off and not his postpartum preeclampsia, “Yes, genetics can play a factor in it, but it’s also something that happens in utero during her development.”

My perfect girl is broken

My perfect girl is broken like me

It’s all my fault.

“Viktor,” Jayce is holding his hand still, giving him a reassuring squeeze, “She’s not in any pain, she’s beautiful and she’s perfect.”

How can she be perfect, if she’s broken like me? Viktor’s floating, he’s confused and heartbroken. He’s fighting with himself because Bronte is perfect. 

He’s silent for a moment, she wasn’t in any pain but that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t one day develop. One day, when she goes to play with the other kids and realizes that she isn’t like them, when she can’t run after a toy boat-

But that was his story, not hers, hers had yet to be written and if Viktor dove deep enough back into his heart, he’d remember his parents doing everything they could to encourage him to love himself despite it all. Despite the pain, the looks; acceptance was the hardest thing Viktor had to do and he had done it once, before it had all been undone.

As Viktor’s vision comes back and he feels better, he’s slowly pulled back up and is ready to listen. He doesn’t cry, but he does look at Bronte and notice just how different her feet are, he feels stupid for not noticing something so drastic, but he understands why he didn’t.

Jayce continues to hold his hand as Mel talks about the treatment options, how treatment will significantly improve her quality of life but may be years long. Viktor asks questions that Jayce wouldn’t think of asking because he’s never had the experience of chronic pain, of having a disability or chronic illness that wasn’t mental.

A plan is made for Bronte before the conversation switches to Viktor once more. In order to not squeeze Viktor’s hand with displeasure, Jayce clenches his jaw as Mel goes over medications and treatments. He hears things that are so incredibly personal, but Viktor keeps holding his hand.

Other than Bronte, Jayce is all Viktor has.

Tomorrow Viktor will be discharged, they will be able to go home and start creating a routine for themselves, a life for themselves. Jayce will be able to ask Viktor where he went to school.

The pendulum swings, slow and quiet.

Notes:

Celebrating some art:

Jayce and Viktor meeting on the bridge by Tayyellowsugar: https://x.com/TayARMY22/status/1921942198116831519
"Do you want her" scene from Chapter 2 by Ames: https://x.com/corkyno/status/1927010865380819163
Jayce & Bronte by Kotamadaa: https://x.com/kotamadaa/status/1927535590192316912
Adult Diapers by Nam: https://x.com/A_L_I_E_N_xdxd/status/1927843869745631281

Chapter 6: Homecoming

Notes:

I apologize for not explaining milkfangs fully. Originally I planned to explain it in the fic, but then it just felt awkwardly placed...I then planned on adding it into the notes and got overly excited to post recent chapters and forgot. Please forgive me! but if there is anything I leave out please let me know so I can clarify or work it in.

Milk Fangs: I made these up for a previous fic because I enjoy angst.
Milk Fangs are a pair of sharp teeth that erupt in place of an omega's canines. They only drop when an omega is pregnant and under extreme duress, it's an evolutionary defense mechanism to both mimic the appearance of an alpha while also giving them something to defend themselves with. These fangs do NOT retract how Alpha's fangs do/can and are a permanent reminder of what they had gone through.

Some omegas wear them with pride, knowing that they have grown past that part of their lives and are brace, fierce and strong. Others view them as their own failures or as constant reminders of the event that traumatized them. Kind of like scars, everyone's experience with them varies and is different, same with people who look upon them.

By the time Viktor wakes, Jayce is back with a pair of fresh clothes for him to change into and a car seat. Viktor blinks the sleep away from his eyes to look at Jayce, he’s trimmed his beard and has taken a shower, he’s happy that he’d taken a moment to take care of himself in all this. Viktor wants to do something to help Jayce, something to ease the burden, even if it’s just a break from himself. 

“Mornin’ Sunshine,” Jayce’s arms are crossed as he smiles at Viktor, “Ready to go home?”

Home.

The word makes something flutter in Viktor’s chest, he’s afraid that one day he is going to lose it, that he’ll mess something up. But he doesn’t say a word, instead smiling and nodding as he carefully pushes himself to the edge of the bed.

“I am.”

Bronte is moved from the cot beside him to the car seat, she’s sleeping rather peacefully in a light blue onesie, there’s an embroidered sun on her chest and white clouds printed across it. It’s adorable.

Viktor changes with Jayce’s help, the boundaries between them had started to slip the moment Jayce bought him diapers. Neither can describe the closeness they each feel between them, even if they’ve spoken little of their personal lives, or their interests. 

Right now, he’s moving slower than before, which doesn't concern him. Now that he’s truly aware of every new ailment now that his body isn’t pumping adrenaline constantly, he can feel each bruise and ache. The ribs are the biggest thing for him, forcing him to sleep in a near sitting position. 

Mel’s shift ended, but she still shows up to help finalize Viktor’s discharge. Despite being with them from the second Viktor came in, she looks just as vivacious as she had upon admission. Her secret was an incredible amount of water, caffeine, and talking to her partners during the day. Plus, with Elora working alongside her they were an incredible team to allow a quick shower or nap.

“I almost forgot,” she smiles, despite beginning to feel the drag of a long shift, “Because you technically finished delivering the placenta here, we can issue Bronte a birth certificate.”

It’s exciting, it’s official, it marks Bronte as his not just biologically. Viktor can’t help but smile, this will be the first document of their new life.

Mel takes out her ipad, “We’ll put everything here and I’ll print it out for you.”

“I truly appreciate everything you’ve done for me, for us,” Viktor wants to get up and shake her hand, but he doesn’t have a cane here.

“You might have gotten some special treatment,” she winks, “Jayce and I go way back.”

Jayce rolls his eyes, knowing that whether or not they were friends it wouldn’t determine the quality of care that Viktor would receive. Mel was incredible at what she did. It did allow him to stay there though. 

“Haha, I was wondering why you’d sneak him in for me,” Viktor hums.

Carefully, Viktor moves from the bed to the wheelchair.

Mel starts filling out information about Bronte, her estimated time of birth along with the date, when it comes down to the location she writes down the hospital. It’s a little fib, but it would look better if anything were to happen.

“Viktor, you’re last name?” Mel asks with a smile.

“I, um…” Viktor grimaces a bit, “I don’t have one.”

“How is that possible?” Jayce doesn’t mean to sound offensive, but it was completely outside the realm of possibilities for him. 

Jayce is confused, his mind wondering how someone could get a license, go to school, or even have an identity without a last name. He has such strong ties to the Talis name, it’s nearly impossible to wrap his head around not having one. 

This wasn’t a surprise to Mel, though. While Jayce was in his workshop or in the R&D department, Mel was working with the community. Their hospital, while not smack in the middle of Piltover, was closer to Progress Bridge. Many people came from Zaun seeking a different type of care, not that the care in Zaun was horrendous, it was just a poorer location. Mel and Lest had spent time in Zaun, working at community centers, volunteering their time, in order to create equity among their people.

“Ah, You’re a Zaunite?” the realization makes sense, the lack of identification does as well.

“I am,” Viktor isn’t ashamed of his upbringing, “So please put Viktor Of Zaun.”

Pieces are lining up now for Jayce, the fact that they met in the middle of the Bridge of Progress. Each one coming from opposite ends of life. Zaun was nothing like Piltover, it was a place Jayce only went to where he was looking for specific materials for projects. Some of his coworkers suggested he shouldn’t go, that it was dangerous and he’d get scammed.

But he knew and worked with people from Zaun. The wave of realization hit him hard, realizing that on his work roster, there are quite a few people whose surnames were listed as Of Zaun or some other variation of that. Ekko, Jinx. Even Caitlyn’s partner, Vi didn’t have a last name until she married into the Kiramman’ family.

The dynamics between the two cities were so incredibly different, marking people forever with the name of their birth. But not everyone from Zaun lacked a last name, it was just the ones who didn’t that stuck out so much more than the others.

“And for Bronte?” Mel asks.

Viktor swallows, Of Zaun had never done anything beneficial for him. It automatically placed him at the end of the roaster on anything he’d ever done, even though ‘O’ wasn’t the last letter of the alphabet. People would sort through his things much faster, it was part of why he worked so hard to make his resume shine.

The resume that ended up being so incredibly useless, same with his degree.

Bronte was already going to navigate life with clubfoot, the cards were already not evenly shuffled. Giving her that last name could be a curse to her, automatically preventing her from higher achieving dreams. 

Hector had a last name, though Viktor would never damn Bronte with it.

“I hadn’t thought of that…” Viktor whispers, he doesn’t want her name to match that of thousands of people.

Thousands of people whose cards wouldn’t be read based simply on their place of birth.

“You can choose anything,” Mel encourages, “Some parents make up last names for their children, I’ve had a few Zaunite parents come up with beautiful ideas. I can search for a quick list.”

“How about Talis?”

Mel nearly drops the iPad, she loses her composure for a moment and Viktor can see just how tired she actually is. Somehow, Jayce was able to bring that out of her, because her lips are parting and she seems ready to scold him in one way or another.

“Jayce…” Viktor starts, but Jayce is smiling, like he knows he just worried his friend a bit.

“It’s an excellent last name, and will definitely turn some heads. Will set her up for success if that’s something you are worried about!” 

You just met this baby! Mel wants to blurt out, but she doesn’t, she’s smelt the mixing of their scents, how seamlessly they fall together. She didn’t believe in fated pairs, but this was starting to sway her beliefs.

Viktor is shocked to silence, a part of him wants to protest, but instead he laughs softly, “Again, Jayce… I expect you to buy me a drink first, first we got married and now you are the father of my daughter?”

“Wait-no!” Jayce puts his hands up in defense, he’s terrified of stepping on toes with his weight, “I-I-I-”

“Am bad under pressure,” Viktor and Mel say at the same time.

As though the pressure was on Jayce at this moment.

I welcome you both into my family, Jayce wants to say, but he can’t. The words get stuck in his throat.

Although watching Jayce squirm a little bit is endearing, Viktor can’t suffer through much more. Instead turning to Mel, “Bronte Talis sounds beautiful.”

There is an incredible kindness in Jayce and Viktor can see how big his heart is. From the moment that Jayce offered to take her at the bridge, from the moment Jayce held her, this little girl he didn’t share an ounce of genetic material with was his.

As much as she was Viktor’s, through flesh and blood, she was Jayce’s in house and home. In  arms that held her in the rain, when she cried, held her when she needed to be calmed because her Táta was having a crisis.

A bond so beautiful, that Viktor had to clench his jaw in order to prevent himself from tearing up. His baby girl, their baby girl, had a surname, a powerful one handed to her as a gift.

And just like that, Bronte’s paperwork was official, sent to be filed away while a copy was given to Viktor to be kept safe. Stacks of discharge papers were placed in the diaper bag, detailed medical instructions along with both Viktor and Bronte’s treatment plans were all written down. They each had follow up appointments, actual real follow up appointments that were already scheduled.

“Now that it’s all said and done,” Jayce smiles before he takes Bronte out of the car seat, swaddling her quickly before handing her over to Viktor, “Let’s do this the right way, the way you deserve.”

Viktor takes her, holding her low on his lap but close enough to love her, close enough to see as she looks up to him with those big beautiful eyes. His heart flutters as Jayce walks beside him, with the diaper bag and the car seat and a large smile on his face. They move through the hospital and look like a true family. Elora pushes the wheelchair, in any other circumstance he would insist on moving it himself, but with Bronte in his arms, with Jayce beside him he is reminded.

This moment is what he deserved.

Other people, families and expecting parents alike look towards them as they leave. Their gaze isn’t menacing, they don’t judge him for the bruises on his face, they look down to Bronte.

“Congradulations!” a stranger says.

“What a beautiful baby! Good job, Ome.”

“Thank you,” Viktor responds gently, his chest lifting as he holds her with pride.

In an ideal world, in his dreams, Viktor would have gotten the pregnancy and birth that he wanted; no one was able to swing the pendulum in a way that turned back time. Viktor was learning to come to terms with that, but here, sitting with Bronte in his arms and hearing the congratulations from strangers, the recognition and compliments about his daughter, he was finally given something he wanted.

Parts of his broken heart were filling, pieces that he didn’t realize had been open and weeping. Viktor can’t help but smile as he thanks people, as he nods gently in their direction at the recognition of labor.

The car is waiting for them, the same one that Jayce dragged him into sopping wet, the same that held the baby supplies, now picked him up from the hospital. Jayce jogs up ahead, unlocking the doors and setting the car seat into the already installed bucket that secured it.

Elora pushes Viktor closer to the car where Viktor offers Bronte to Jayce. He’s quick to unswaddle her and place her correctly in the car seat. With his hands free, Viktor wheels himself around the door to the passengers seat, Jayce had opened the door for him when he approached. 

At the door, Viktor grabs onto one of the handles while his other goes to grip the other end of the doorway. His hand doesn’t meet plastic or metal, instead it falls into Jayce’s who’s hand now goes to Viktor’s lower back. 

It’s supportive, it’s sturdy. Jayce doesn’t lift him into the seat, just guides him into it, ensuring that he gets in safely. Ensuring that he’s treated like an omega who’d just given birth, treated like someone who was recovering…

Ensuring that he was treated like someone.

The door closes as Jayce pushes the chair back towards Elora, they speak briefly before he heads over to the driver's seat and gets in. He’s beaming as he buckles himself in, putting his hands onto the wheel before he leans towards Viktor.

“Mel snuck me into a maternity room and I stole so much stuff, ” Jayce’s grin is mischievous yet proud.

Viktor stares at him, lips parted in awe, “Jayce don’t get Ms. Medarda in trouble.”

“You are allowed to take things from those rooms, I googled it!” Jayce sits back up, starting the car as he begins to drive.

“Then it’s not stealing, is it? If you are allowed to take it?” Viktor’s smiling.

“That’s what I’m going to believe,” Jayce adjusts his rearview mirror, “if not, I'll get an earful from Mel.”

The next few days they fall into a routine, but the routine still leaves them exhausted despite the fact that Bronte is an incredibly easy baby to care for. They are doing something wrong and they know it, they don’t know how to fix it. Parenthood is a trial that neither of them were prepared for but they both feel relatively confident in the challenge.

At least until night, at night Viktor’s depression increases in severity. Almost as soon as the sun sets, Viktor will fall quiet and flinch at any sudden sound. Jayce hears him crying in his room and sometimes, openly and in front of him.

There is no night versus day shift, not when Viktor needs to rest more than anything. Jayce tries to do everything at night to let Viktor sleep, to try making him feel some type of relief from just how upset he gets.

Jayce is lucky that he’s given paternity leave but his boss is pissed. It’s sudden and doesn’t make any sense, they don’t know when he got a baby or why he’d do it when there are so many deadlines and ideas that need to be designed and tested. They can only express their disapproval, the only thing they can do about it is discourage and show their disgust, they can’t fire him. He’s a Talis, he’s Ximena’s son.

But Jayce is full of promises, he ensures that some work will be done at home, he’ll fax it over as things calm down and when he does come back to work, he might be bringing in an additional employee. They laughed, rolled their eyes, and wished him luck.

That night, Jayce sits down on the couch to get some work done. It’s dark out, he knows that Viktor is struggling, he heard him stifling his cries when he put his latest milk in the fridge, the way his voice cracked when he kissed Bronte goodnight. Bronte is asleep in her cot, Jayce knows they need to get a real crib and maybe he should move some things around to give her her own room.

As Jayce works, Viktor goes into the bedroom, his arms wrapped around himself tightly. He wants to shrink away, to disappear and vanish. No matter how much Jayce tries to ensure that Viktor is getting enough rest, he doesn’t. He can’t.

The shadows of the room are like clawed hands, reaching out and ready to strangle him. Hector’s voice echoes in the sound of the three branches as it scrapes and taps upon his window. He’s putting too much on Jayce, he’s a terrible parent. There’s danger out there, there’s danger in here, he’s inefficient and imperfect and his daughter has clubfoot, he almost killed her.

An urge to build a nest erupts within him, his mind swimming with only the thought of doing that. He makes it to the bed and tries so hard to do it but he fucking cant. His hands are shaking and nothing feels right, he doesn’t have enough clothing of his own or Brontes. They wash the clothes so fast in this house and he’d feel evil taking anything from her. All he wants is to sleep, to get the rest his body needs to heal, to make sure Jayce staying up wasn’t a waste. To sleep and avoid the emotional mess of failing his biological duty as an omega.

Nesting continues to call to him, his nurturing instincts trying to force something that can’t happen. Here he’s safe, he’s free to give into the primal urge but he can’t. No matter how the pieces fall, nothing feels right, there’s not enough here and there’s a lack of an alpha.

The idea of asking Jayce for things to fill his nest crosses his mind, but he can’t do that either. He doesn’t know why he even thought about it, he lets out a growl of frustration followed by an anguished sob as he knocks everything off the bed.

The clothes hit the floor as he sobs, he wishes he had his mother here, the omega who birthed him, Viktor wishes he had his support. To teach him what to do, to remind him of the positives, to support him in the way that mothers do.

But he’s dead along with his father.

So he cries so hard that he begins to gag, so hard that he grows dizzy and knows his blood pressure isn’t doing what it should for his recovery. 

He craves the comfort of someone else, the safety of someone’s arms. The medication is doing what it can to keep him from picturing Hector, from dreaming of crawling back to him, opening his legs to him and calling his name but he yearns for something.

And Jayce keeps flickering into his head, his newest friend, his benefactor and savior.

Viktor grabs his pillow and holds it to his face, screaming softly into it. 

The void calls out to him again and he’s so tempted to listen but he doesn’t. Instead he lays down, hugging himself as he stares at the wall, recalling every memory of his parents he can. 

Jayce hears his scream through the fabric, through the walls of their home. He wants nothing more than to get up, to go to Viktor and see if there is anything he can do. 

But he already feels bad for scenting him without his knowledge, for forming this pup bond with his daughter that they hadn’t had a chance to discuss yet. Jayce doesn’t know if Viktor knows or if he’s just ignoring it. Instead Jayce turns back to his work, he turns back to his work as his eyes strain, as his heart wants to comfort Viktor.

The next day was twice as exhausting, now that Bronte was officially past her first week of life she was ready to get her first cast. The fiasco started in the morning, where Viktor and Jayce were scrambling from their messy schedule, which then led to them both almost crying with Bronte when she got her cast. Jayce was distraught, wiping tears away from his eyes while they both held Bronte’s hands. The pediatric orthosurgeon assured them that she wasn’t feeling pain, just discomfort and strange sensations, but it didn’t help.

Viktor had cried enough the night before, exhausted and borderline miserable, but still he cooed and whispered to his daughter. He knew that it had to be done in order to improve her quality of life and he was fighting like hell not to feel the guilt, still worrying that if he somehow did this to her. Occasionally he looked down to his own leg, trying to determine if he actually had clubfoot at some point. He’s searching for a memory that doesn’t exist, but that doesn’t make it easier.

Bronte is incredibly unhappy with the cast, the two alternating attempts to calm her. They fail to feed her or get her to take a nap, it’s almost like she’s a different baby. The final thing that works is when Jayce holds her and bounces, swaying gently as Viktor stands close by, his hand gently on her back as he sings a Czech lullaby. 

By some stroke of luck it works, they soothe her long enough to feed her and put her to sleep in the cot in their room. Viktor grabs the baby monitor as the two quietly leave and go to the couch, collapsing side by side on it.

Both close their eyes for a moment, sinking into the coach. 

“You’ve uh, leaked?“ Jayce smiles at Viktor, “And your shirt is on…backwards?”

Viktor blinks his eyes open, looking down to see that he’s once again soaked through the front of his shirt. He can’t seem to get his timing right on feeds and pumping, he hadn’t just breast fed her either, they had been so focused on getting her to eat in the first place they just grabbed what was in the fridge.

He turns to look at Jayce, realizing that he looks just as rough, he scans over him to notice the stains on his shirt and the crusted spit up on his neck.

“You have…crusted spit on your neck,” Viktor is smirking, but it’s hidden under a thick veil of misery.

Each of them wants to close the distance between them, but they don’t. Instead they laugh at their physical state, they have seen each other more at their worst or their messiest than they have normal. 

“What if we just shut our eyes for a few minutes?” Jayce taunts the idea, eyes already half closing.

“She’d wake us up on the monitor…” Viktor yawns, “That’s what we are missing Jayce…we need to sleep when she sleeps.”

“I’m so tired I can hear colors… red makes a low vrrring noise,” Jayce’s eyes fully close, he’s tilting slowly to the side. 

“And blue sounds… wet,” Viktor mutters, “but not squishy.”

“See, you get it,” Jayce sighs, sinking more onto his side, “this is why we’re friends.”

Viktor would have responded, if he hadn’t already fallen asleep and was following Jayce’s tilt. They are in a deep sleep in less than three minutes and by five Jayce is completely slumped onto his side and Viktor has tilted on top of him. They sleep much longer than five minutes, and neither of them seem bothered by the other.

Four hours pass of silence, the sun is no longer in the same place as it was in the window. The room has gone dim as afternoon melts into the evening, yet somehow Bronte hadn’t woken them once. The clock on the wall ticks, the pendulum is only moving a short distance now, barely even making half.

Jayce is pouring from an empty cup, into a cup that’s filled with cracks.

The first one to stir is Jayce, blinking groggily as he feels the weight of Viktor partially on top of him. Something about the pressure was comforting, his body warm, he doesn’t register it at first instead nuzzling into the warmth before the warmth stirs above him. Slowly Jayce sits up, his hands gently guiding Viktor onto the couch to save some face.

Viktor rolls onto his back, stretching as he wakes before looking up to Jayce. In the dimness of the living room, Jayce looks down to Viktor. His hair is splayed out, the bruises on his face are slowly healing and there’s a pleasant expression on his face. Neither are well rested, but both are happy with the short rest.

A little cat like , Jayce decides, smiling down at him. 

In a supposedly empty home, filled with two sleeping adults and a newborn, it should have smelt like the three of them. Yet somehow, the rich smell of chicken, garlic, and onion tickles their noses and begins to fill their chests with warmth. It would have been considered normal, had it not supposed to just be the three of them.

“Someone broke into your house to cook?” Viktor sits up quickly, the peaceful expression on his face vanishes as he looks around.

The baby monitor is gone, his eyes dart over to Jayce with a look of concern, borderline panic. This isn’t something unfamiliar to Jayce and the aroma of homemade cooking reassures him that everything is alright. Jayce is quick yet gentle, as he puts his hand on Viktor’s shoulder, he’s about to get up.

“No no, well technically yes, but it’s probably my mom.”

“Your mom broke into your house…to cook?” Viktor’s brows furrow.

Viktor hadn’t been fortunate enough to have his parents in his adulthood, he hadn’t been fortunate enough to form a pack either. Upon hearing that this was normal for Jayce, had him wondering if this was something that was normal for most families, it was hard for him to believe it though.

“She does that sometimes,” Jayce stands up, ready to follow his nose, “she’s probably curious and wants to meet you.”

“Jayce…” Viktor grabs his cane and stands up as the two head towards the kitchen, he keeps his voice low, “Your mother may think I am simply trying to leech off you.”

“She’d never, if anything she’ll think some way about me, ” Jayce reassures Viktor, his hand gently grazing on his lower back, “Trust me, I told her I was helping out a friend, she won’t think anything.

Viktor gently bites the inside of his cheek, he wants to believe Jayce but he fears that the moment his mother finds out he’s from Zaun, she’ll think otherwise. Part of him wants to turn around and hide in his room, but he has a feeling that Bronte is in there with her and while she’s a stranger to him she’s not to Jayce.

The closer they get to the kitchen, the stronger the smell becomes. Soup is simmering on the stove, tantalizing and making Viktor’s mouth water. It smells devine. That morning, they hadn’t eaten much, both too nervous for Bronte’s appointment.

A woman is standing at the stove, her hair is tied up with a few loose strands hanging by her face. She hums to herself and Viktor realizes that’s where Jayce must get it from, he can’t see her face, but he watches as she sways to the music she creates herself. Bronte’s cot is a few feet away, she’s calm without a hint of tears.

“Mamá,” Jayce smiles and guides Viktor into the room, he can tell that he’s trying to plant his feet in the hallway, “You could have woken us up!”

Ximena turns around, she has a ladle in her hand and is smiling from ear to ear, “Oh but you looked so peaceful sleeping!” She places the ladle down and walks to them, “I know how hard it is with a newborn, every second of rest counts.”

She looks from Jayce to Viktor and although her eyes scan the bruises on his face, she focuses upon his amber eyes. There’s a pain in her heart to see anyone suffer but she can tell just by looking at him, that he is something special.

Jayce’s arms were out to expect a hug and kiss from his mother, but she bypasses him completely and gently reaches her hand out for Viktor’s. Viktor doesn’t flinch away, he smiles and reaches his hand out to her, they very gently slide their wrists against one another before Ximena takes his hands in hers. Jayce watches the exchange, he recognizes this as something his mother has done when meeting any of his omega friends though he’s never asked why.

Now Jayce wants to learn why.

“Ximena,” she smiles warmly, “You must be Viktor? I’ve prepared caldo de pollo for you, please have a seat!”

“Oh you…” Viktor’s stomach growls and his cheeks pink as she leads him to the kitchen table.

“¡Está tan delgado! Mijo, ¿por qué no me llamaste antes?” Her eyes fall onto Jayce as she guides Viktor to the table, her brows are pushed closer together, she’s displeased with him but not wanting that to show.

“Hemos estado ocupados,” Jayce sighs as he follows after, pulling a seat out for himself after Viktor has sat down.

 “Es importante descansar y comer bien después del parto. Es demasiado delgado,” Ximena gives Viktor a kiss on the top of his head once he sits down before walking over to Jayce and doing the same for him.

The kiss on the head makes Viktor sit up a little straighter in his seat, it wasn’t something that he expected and wasn’t something that he hated either. He doesn’t speak Spanish, but he knew enough to catch a few words; they said something about being skinny and he hopes that she’s talking about him and not his daughter. Jayce might be being scolded for that, but he himself isn’t and he’s thankful for that.

Two bowls of soup are placed on the table, a large one in front of Jayce and an even bigger one in front of Viktor. 

“My mamá made this for me after I had Jayce. Warm foods are the best, but especially those that are packed with nutrients. I’ve made a ton so please eat up,” she smiles and the two dig in, “It’s important you eat lots.”

Neither of them needed to be told twice, both digging into their soup while Ximena asked Jayce about friends. She purposefully avoided the topic of work, focusing on how Caitlyn and Vi were doing. Viktor is silent as he eats, watching the interaction between mother and son.

The soup warms his stomach and the conversation and presence of Ximena warms his heart, it nearly feels like a family dinner. A room with multiple generations, a story that continues from a branching and beautiful tree.

There’s a disconnect though, Viktor isn’t a part of this tree and while Bronte doesn’t share any genetic material with the Talis family, she has become one in name. She’s not officially adopted, but she has become integrated despite her differences. 

Dinner continues and Viktor is involved in the conversation, they talk about Bronte and what her name means to each of them. Ximena knows her son and laughs at the reference to the greek goddess, she was much more familiar with Charlotte Bronte, the author of Jane Eyr e. Her eyes light up when they talk about the nicknames they already have for her.

“Thunderclap, Bunny girl…” Jayce is counting on his fingers.

“Mamas, zlaticko,” Viktor adds with a grin.

Ximena watches as the two interact, how Jayce and Viktor converse with a twinkle in their eye. There’s something in Jayce she hasn’t seen from him in years, she sees hope and purpose. A magic that had long lost returning slowly in the way he acts and speaks, she hopes this isn’t mania, she hopes that this is something that they can get through together. Yes she’s concerned about Viktor and his baby, she wants to fully support them in any way she can, but she’s also concerned about her own son. Jayce inherited the size of his heart from his mother, only his grew so much more out of control.

The plates and bowls are put away after they each have been given plenty to eat. Dessert is a warm atole and Viktor quickly becomes obsessed with its sweetness and texture, it coats and fills his mouth with a pleasant feeling.

“This is delicious!” Viktor gasps, a mustache of the liquid sticking to his upper lip.

“Atole, remember warm foods that are easy on the tummy will be best for you,” Ximena smiles, she doesn’t ask Viktor questions about his past or his background. She’s intelligent, reading the bruises on his face as a silent language, feeling the scent upon his wrist when they met.

Any remnants of sunlight have faded through the window, Viktor is impressed with how long everyone had stayed at the table. In his youth, they rarely sat at the table as a family, either of his parents were always working and when they did, it was a quick event that barely lasted fifteen minutes.

Somehow, with Ximena and Jayce time passed and the night came once more. Viktor felt it more than anything, if he ignored the window, ignored the clock on the wall, he could feel his body begin to decompress. Feel the dread and worries starting to itch at the back of his throat.

At this point, he knows he should excuse himself. Jayce had seen him in his most vulnerable, he didn’t want to share that with any more people. Ximena was kind, she didn’t need to deal with his pointless tears.

Before Viktor could leave, though, Ximena turned to him, “Do you have a place where you store her clothes for a nest? Or do you prefer them just tossed onto the bed? I changed her earlier but I wasn’t sure which you preferred.”

Jayce’s stomach plummets to the floor, he can’t interject without admitting that he can hear Viktor’s struggle through the walls. Without admitting that he hears him and doesn’t step in to help, without admitting that he hears him and doesn’t even know how to.

A nest is something that Viktor just can’t seem to get right, he doesn’t have a special place for Bronte’s clothes and they honestly have just been washing them. He’d kept a few things to try and make a nest with, but it just took away options for her to wear and no matter the placement, it always felt wrong. He hadn’t made a single real nest since she was born, tonight would be another empty bed. 

Another night to lay awake and wonder when Hector was going to knock on the door. The bastard infects his mind like a parasite, the medication allowed Viktor to continue to loathe him, to keep his repulsion, but it didn’t allow for the man to leave his mind. The infection spreads, he can’t think straight.

Tears well within Viktor’s eyes as he avoids her gaze, he’s afraid if he looks at her he’ll fully break down. He bites his lower lip, hard enough that his milk fangs gently slice into the tender flesh on the outside. There’s an awkwardness in crying in front of new people, he wants to seem stable and ready for this.

Ready to be a parent, ready to be functional.

Ready to work and thrive.

But he’s not, at least not yet.

“Mi amor…” Ximena's expression softens, she can see the pain on his face and starts to inch closer, “It’s okay.”

Her words are filled with love that Viktor fears he doesn’t deserve.

Filled with love for someone she’d just met, without judgement,

“Sorry,” Viktor lifts his hand to press against his eyes, hoping that he can stop the tears from flowing freely, “It happens for no good reason.”

“Ah,” Ximena scoots closer to him, tenderly taking his other hand that rests on the table into hers, “That’s normal, I cried for months after Jayce. Having a baby isn’t easy, it throws our emotions all over the place. Do you have any contact with your parents?”

“No, they’ve passed away,” Viktor’s voice shakes, his shoulders hunch a bit as his hands fail to hold back the flood of tears that’s been fighting for freedom. 

Bronte and Viktor only have one another in their biological pack, there is no one else.

“They would be so proud of you,” Ximena stands up, wrapping her arms around Viktor’s trembling form as he completely falls apart in her arms, “So proud.”

Viktor grips onto her, curls his head into her and shakes.

“Mijo, cuida al bebé,” Ximena places her hands on either side of Viktor’s cheeks, he tries to shield away, but she is persistent, her hands strong, “Let’s get you to bed.”

“It’s fine,” Viktor’s voice is shaky, “It gets like this at night, it’s fine.”

“My dear, it is not fine,” Ximena’s eyes are a hearth, warm and comforting, the feeling of home.

Viktor needed whomever had birthed him, whether it be a mother or a father; omega, alpha or beta. He needed someone who had done this before, he needed his mama. He accepts it, he accepts her word that this isn’t fine and he gives in to allow her to help.

The door he keeps closed opens just a crack and Ximena shoves her foot into it, she blocks it from any chance of closing as she breaks the rust from the door hinge and forces it open.

“Come, come,” Ximena starts to stand him up, she wraps her arms around him as though to shield him from the eyes of others, to maintain his dignity from the eyes of the house, to protect him, “Jayce, knock.”

The demand is clear and Jayce nods from the silence of his chair, watching as his mom leads Viktor out and the room falls into silence once more. Jayce is thankful that his mother is there, thankful that she took charge of his tears. Since accidentally scenting the two of them, he’s been cautious to do it again, at least to Viktor. He cleans the kitchen to keep himself occupied, Bronte remains in her cot unbothered, blissfully unaware of Táta’s sadness.

But Jayce can’t sit and do nothing, just as his mother had known he would do he creeps down the hallway and softly knocks on the door. Hearing a word of affirmation he gently pokes his head into the door and sees his mother sitting on the edge of the bed with Viktor’s head on her lap. His eyes are red and puffy, but they are closed. He’s not asleep, but he’s pacified from the overwhelming scent of cinnamon and cocoa.

His mother’s scent, reflecting Jayce’s pup scent of cinnamon and smoke.

“Ma,” Jayce whispers, he doesn’t step into the room, not wanting to break whatever calm had been established here.

There is no nest on the bed, but clothes tossed about from the night before.

“You boys have been doing so well,” she whispers, her fingers gently tousling Viktor’s hair, “But it takes a village to raise a baby. I wish you told me right away about this.”

She doesn’t scold him, but she longs for him to talk to her without the fear of judgement. But Ximena understands why he withholds information, admittedly, Ximena has judged her son unfairly and openly in times of crisis. In her attempts to protect him, she’s made situations worse or accidently amplified his behaviors.

“The markings on his face, his poor heart is broken. Mijo, I am sure this was an act of impulse,” she looks up from Viktor to Jayce, “your heart is so big, but babies are a lot of work.”

“I know, mamá…but that’s why I offered to help,” Jayce gets a lump in his throat, he hadn’t explained how they met in truth to his mother.

He’s afraid to.

“Let me make sure this one is asleep,” she says as though Viktor is her second child, “then you get some rest. I’ll take care of Bronte and get some work done around the house.”

“Mi amor,” she lowers herself down to whisper to Viktor, “Lets get some rest, everything will be okay.”

Without any refusal or fight, Viktor is led up to his pillows and laid to bed, Ximena only holding onto his arm to guide him upwards. Jayce watches his body movements, how heavy they seem as he crawls upwards into the bed. It reminds him of when Viktor held Bronte in the hospital, the sedating effect that his pup had upon him, he wonders if his mother had somehow done the same. 

Jayce starts to shut the door, hearing Viktor whisper, “Dekuji, mama”

Ximena leaves the room a few minutes later, she closes the door behind her while her hands remain gripped on the door knob. Her eyes are wet as she stares at Jayce, he knows that look.

“You don’t have to…”

“I have to,” she’s determined, speaking in a loud whisper, “this pup needs his mamá, you heard him yourself. Unless you can summon ghosts from the grave!”

The harshness in her voice doesn’t last long, she isn’t angry at Jayce, she’s angry at the situation that led them here. Recentering herself she looks at Jayce with fondness, there is no argument here that he was her son.

“You have been an only child, but I hope that you can learn to share,” her decision has been made, there wasn’t any turning back, “Being a single parent is so incredibly difficult ... .being a single omega without your own mamá? Devastating.”

“He’s going to be really upset if you pity him,” Jayce crosses his arms, “So make sure it doesn’t come across as that he’s… pretty prideful.”

“Like recognizes like, it seems,” Ximena nods,“Go wash up, I’ll take this night shift so both of you can rest, but before you go to sleep…” she steps forward, her hand falling onto his face, “we need to talk.”

“Yes, mamá.”

The clock falls silent, replaced instead with Ximena’s footsteps as she walks down the hall. Jayce takes a deep breath, turning towards Viktor’s door before shaking his head and going upstairs. It was time for his own set of difficult conversations.

Notes:

Yes! I decided to have Mel in her polycule, the poll was so close, and I have decision paralysis. Someone suggested everyone be together and I went, that is GENIUS! Currently deciding on the A/B/O status and scents of everyone in the polycule, not sure if those details will come into the story but still want to have it ready just in case! That and I can always add it into the notes as a fun little treat.

For this fic Mel is an omega, strongly empathetic towards other omegas and their scents which greatly helps her job as an OBY/GYN.
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Celebrating some art:

Jayce and Viktor meeting on the bridge by Tayyellowsugar: https://x.com/TayARMY22/status/1921942198116831519
"Do you want her" scene from Chapter 2 by Ames: https://x.com/corkyno/status/1927010865380819163
Jayce & Bronte by Kotamadaa: https://x.com/kotamadaa/status/1927535590192316912
Adult Diapers by Nam: https://x.com/A_L_I_E_N_xdxd/status/1927843869745631281

Chapter 7: Happy and Safe

Notes:

This is so far, the longest chapter I heave written for Pendulum at 9294 words. I don't know if I can maintain that length moving forward but we will see!! Sometimes I get to chapters that are emotionally difficult to write, I'll have to take breaks or play some games in between before I dive back in. This was one of those chaptpers.

 

I know that many of the themes in this fic hit close to home for myself and many people who read them, they really do say write what you know. I want you to remember that you are loved, needed, and beautiful with your imperfections and everything that makes you-you. Life can be cruel to us, but there is beauty in this life. While you should never be expected to share or devolve your stories, your traumas, and your hurt on the internet for strangers; you owe them NOTHING, when you leave me messages of your connection with the story, I am overwhelmed and honored that you feel safe here to share. I hope my writing continues to warm you, bring you comfort, even when the parts get dark and angsty, remember that they will get their happy ending. (Sorry for rambling, I just truly appreciate all of you and life is hard and sometimes rather lonely)

My favorite poem is my encouragement to keep going; Robert Frost's Stopping by The Woods on a Snowy Evening, it ends with "The woods are lovely dark and deep, but I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep."

(I need to give my Mermaid fic a little love, so if there is a delay on this fic know I am trying to balance the two!!)

I try to reply to every single comment but sometimes I feel I fall short on my responses and I'm really sorry about that. But I read every single one and they FEED me, so thank you so much.

Jayce washes the spit up from his body, the shame from the day and the embarrassment of not helping Viktor the night before. The water is as cold as he can make it, waking him up so he’s ready to speak with his mother but also calming down his racing heart. Ximena knew how to dig in deep with her words just as much as she knew how to comfort. He’s thankful that she’s here to help, but he’s nervous for the conversation to come.

If he takes too long, Ximena will come to the bathroom door and knock, ensuring that he’s still alive in there and hasn’t attempted to escape. He’d only done that once as a teenager, yet it didn’t stop her from thinking that it would happen again.

He turns the water off and dries himself, throwing on a soft t-shirt and sweat pants to sleep in. As he pulls the shirt over his head he notices that he can still smell Viktor and Bronte upon his skin.

Pausing he turns his head to his arm, thinking perhaps it was just a trick of the nose. He should smell like his deodorant or his body wash, not of lavender and sweetmilk, not of sweetmilk and himself.

But even as those smells inevitably mesh together, Jayce is still able to pick out the parts that are so distinctly Viktor. Jayce thinks for a moment, he’d held Bronte and helped rock her to sleep, they had bonded so that one makes sense. The smell of milk and amber make sense.

Fields of lavender don’t.

Their proximity was closest as they lay upon the couch, crumpled upon one another in a strange heap to sleep. Jayce didn’t notice Viktor’s pheromones being particularly strong when he awoke, he was confident he would have noticed Viktor scenting him.

Ma will kill me , he grits his teeth and brushes his teeth.

Enough avoiding.

Down the stairs he goes, seeing that Bronte’s cot hadn’t been moved but the lights in the kitchen had been dimmed. Part of giving each of them a break meant that Bronte would be sleeping wherever Ximena saw fit.

Ximena is waiting for him in the living room, she’s sitting on the couch with her legs crossed and a notepad on her lap. It’s likely filled with a list of things she’d like to talk to Jayce about, carefully crafted in a way to prevent Jayce from understanding it if he tried to read it.

She was good at that, making her own cryptic language for herself only. It was a magic that he couldn’t read, something that he assumed all mothers could do.

Though he wants to stand in place, he doesn’t, walking into the living room to sit beside her on the couch. The clock is softly ticking on the wall, he looks up to it as she speaks.

“No plans on fixing that?” she asks, looking up.

“I don’t mind it,” Jayce admits, “It’s not really on my list of priorities.”

“What if Viktor or Bronte mind?” She's been crafting her conversation while he showered, thinking of exactly how she should talk to her son about an ongoing issue.

“Then…I guess I can fix it?” Jayce exhales, leaning back onto the couch as he looks over to his mother, “Thank you for coming over…”

“I’m going to give both of you some advice once you are rested, along with planning on stopping by to check on both of you-”

“Ma, that’s too much you don’t have to!”

“Is this arrangement short term or long term?”

“Long term,” Jayce adds quickly, “Mamá, I am going to try and get him a job with me. Depending on his credentials he might be able to start at home, I don’t know his educational background.”

The pendulum swings swiftly, hard and fast as Jayce realizes that he made a mistake. By admitting he didn’t know his education background, he had given his mother a mile in terms of understanding their relationship.

“Mijo,” Ximena gives him a look, “How long have you known him? You both seem so comfortable with each other, but I know you haven’t known him long. You’ve never talked about him or attempted to get him a job before. ”

“I…” he swallows hard, taking his mother’s hand, “A week or two.”

“Dios mio! Both him and the baby have adopted your scent in just a week? Are you reckless? I swear I didn’t raise such a…scent possessive alpha of a son!”

“No, wait!” Jayce turns fully to face his mom with his face and body, “It’s not like that, I…when Viktor got sick, I was really scared and I..I was just trying to calm everyone down. I’ve never done that before, but Bronte was crying and Viktor was bleeding… It was stupid I know. It-it’ll go away for Viktor, Bronte is a different story I know-”

“You think that’ll just go away?” Ximena pinches Jayce by the ear, she’s gentle about it but firm, “That’s part of why he can’t nest, mijo.”

“What?” Jayce’s stomach drops, “That… no he’s got a mate, well for now, it’s complicated. He’s taking something for that.”

“It’s why he can’t nest,” she repeats and lets go of his ear, her hand dropping onto his shoulder, “and he’s not going to ask you to help, but you need to take responsibility for that,” she points to the back of her neck, where her own bond mark rests, “He’s craving an alpha . I don’t know who, but based on the smell of that bedroom it’s you.”

It’s you.

“I…” Jayce’s eyes shift, manic and unseeing,“I didn’t give him the chance! ”

Ximena knows that shift, she doesn’t know how often the pendulum swings, but she’s often seen first hand as it does. She stands up in front of him, grabbing onto his head and hugging onto him tightly. He’ll try and get up if she doesn’t block his way.

“I didn’t give him a choice !” Jayce’s hands grip around his mother, he’s horrified.

A sinking feeling is in his chest at the idea he’d done one of the many things Hector had done to control Viktor. The fact that Jayce had taken away Viktor’s ability to choose , to willingly allow himself to be scented. In Jayce’s mind, if he had scented him hard enough to interrupt Viktor's ability to nest properly, he had done something controlling and terrible.

Not allowing Viktor the freedom to come into his own, to not crave someone because of a biological feature but to want them. For the briefest yet horrifying moment, Jayce thought he had trapped Viktor whether it be temporary or permanent.

“Mijo,” She soothes him, holding tightly onto him as she releases her own pheromones to help calm him, “It won’t hurt him, I promise. It can go away with time, you didn’t curse him.”

“Mamá,” his voice cracks, cocoa and cinnamon settles over his shoulders and under his nose, “I just want to help. I didn’t mean to make it difficult for him.”

“I know,” she kisses the top of his head, her hands rubbing soothing circles on his back, “And you can but…I think you both need to talk and I think,” she pulls back from his lightly to look him in the eye, “You need to resume treatment.”

“But…”

“They need stability,” Ximena stresses, “You can offer them a home, a job, and comfort but if… when you get depressed, when you get manic… It’ll be good for them and most importantly, you. Raising a child is difficult, it’ll add stressors that you can’t even imagine. What if you decide you don’t want this in a few weeks?”

The hammer swings down, crushing through the idealized version of the future that Jayce had briefly imagined. Where his brain was instantly healed, where all it took was these two to make everything colorful again, where he heard the world around him. Where the void continues to call, but he can’t hear her anymore over the sound of Viktor talking, Bronte crying. 

A romanticized future, shattered, but the idea of abandoning the two would never happen. 

“I wouldn’t!” he’s horrified at the notion, “They are people, not some…design or prototype I can just abandon. I…I adore Bronte and I want to help Viktor. I bonded with her.”

“You’ve done more than abandon projects at your worst, though I don’t know if you remember those times,” Her jaw is tight, “Start treatment and stick with it, if not for you, because you could never do it for you. Then do it for Bronte…for Viktor.”

Jayce holds her gaze as her words resonate with him, she’s more than correct. It wouldn’t be fair to either Bronte or Viktor when Jayce falls into his lows, when he can’t get out of bed and doesn’t cook meals. He’d hoped that their presence could help rouse him from bed, motivate him to cook.

But mental illness isn’t predictable and it certainly can’t be controlled by love and care. When he’s manic, he might scare them, not on purpose but with how quickly he moves and speaks. Viktor startles easily, the breaking of a glass floored him. There was so much about Viktor he didn’t know, uncharted and rough waters.

The pendulum swings once more, it tries to pass across the threshold it gets stuck on.

“Okay, okay…” 

Relief washes over Ximena as she holds her son in her arms, she hopes that he can stick to it this time, that maybe Viktor can help Jayce just as much as he did him. She doesn’t know about the bridge, she doesn’t know about the call of the void lingering outside of their front door. All she knows is she needs to be a mother and she can’t be perfect.

“Shower, rest up, okay?” She gives him a kiss on the forehead, “We can make all these steps tomorrow.”

Wiping his eyes, Jayce nods and wishes his mother a good night, he fights himself from dragging his feet across the floor as he heads back to the kitchen. Before going to bed, he reaches Bronte, his hand going in to gently caress her cheek. He knows he’s playing a risky game, he’s running the chance of waking her up when she’s been fussy all day but he can’t resist.

“I’m going to do right by you, for you…and your Táta,” Jayce leans down and gives her a soft kiss to the forehead, “I promise. A real promise,” he smiles despite the pain in his heart, “Not like the first one you heard from me, that one…was a lie.”

Carefully he takes his pinky finger and locks it around hers, “But it was a good lie and I owned up to it. I’m not sure what is better for you to understand, a broken promise or a lie but this one I’ll keep forever.”

She moves slightly, the tickle of his beard on her face, he pulls back to admire her. Bronte isn’t his but his heart is so full of her, she’s only a week old but he wonders if she looks like Viktor did as a baby. He’ll never recognize himself in her, but as she grows he will recognize Viktor and that will be more than worth it.

 Back in his room he realizes that it’s empty, is large and cold when the bottom floor feels warm from life. Three people are down there right now, three people when there were none. If this was going to be long term, Bronte will need her own room and so will Viktor. They’d have to talk about it in the coming days. Before he falls asleep, he messages his doctor and announces his decision to restart treatment as soon as possible.

Viktor and Jayce both sleep a full eight hours, save for Viktor whom Ximena carefully and gracefully awoke to pump. Each time, she had everything ready for him and covered his sleepy chest with a towel to protect his modesty. A warm cup of milk was presented to him, before he went back to sleep. It wasn’t disruptive enough to keep him up and by morning, he wouldn’t remember the details of every single one.

It’s good for Viktor, helping him dodge the deep depression that gets him as well as it helps Jayce, keeping his mood more stable.

Birds are chirping outside of the window, unlike the scratching upon it that frightened him before. There’s a note beside the bed from Ximena;

Mi amor,

Take your time, I’m loving Conejita.

Ximena

Closing his eyes he allows himself another few minutes in bed before he starts to prepare himself for the day. A shower is the first thing he does, long since overdue. He regrets not washing whatever was in his hair or on him earlier, but at this point, he doesn’t care too much about it. There’s a chair in the shower now, he’s not sure when it got there or who put it there, but he sits and enjoys a warm shower. At Hector’s place, the water always ran cold, the bills were never properly paid and he was lucky to have any running water at all. 

Washed and clean, Viktor decides not to dress himself in the random clothing that Jayce panic ordered when Viktor agreed to stay and instead throws on Jayce’s Piltover University sweater again. It was comfortable, soft, and reminded him of his own experience at the school; along with the distant memory of meeting Jayce before.

The door to his room is cracked open and allows for the savory smell of simmering vegetables and broths on the stove. He doesn’t feel guilty about sleeping in or being clean, he’s instead filled with gratitude to be able to do this.

Down the hall he can hear Ximena singing, just like Jayce had a few days back. Like a mother like son, he wonders if Bronte is going to pick up any behaviors from either of them. It warms his healing heart as he enters the kitchen.

Jayce is still sleeping, but Ximena is standing at the counter with Bronte wrapped close to her chest. She moves with an elegance that Viktor wishes he had, multitasking both with a baby on her chest while preparing something on the cutting board. The knife angled away from the two of them, the steam and heat never close enough to Bronte as she rotated her body, but keeping the baby close.

Allowing Bronte to feel her heart beat, feel her chest rise and fall as she sings and learns just where Jayce’s scent comes from. She’s naturally a mother, effortlessly a grandmother, and everything that Viktor wishes he had.

“Good morning,” Viktor wishes her as he walks into the kitchen, looking at the stove and counter.

It’s filled with bags of prepared vegetables, meats and seasonings, things that will be thrown into the freezer and cooked up later. The bags are labeled and numbered in sharpie, cooking instructions are written on a paper that’s been encased in clear tape to protect it from moisture. Viktor isn’t sure if she had an overnight food delivery or if she had gone out herself and collected everything.

When Viktor speaks to her, she stops what she’s doing and washes off her hands to greet him. Her hands are clean as she cups his cheeks with her hands, “Good morning, are you hungry?”

“A little but I can wait, Mrs. Talis…I want to thank you for last night.”

“Ximena,” she responds, “no thank yous are needed. Would you like me to show you how to wear her?”

Viktor nods quickly, he wants Bronte close to his chest, to hold her and feel her against him. If Jayce was downstairs, he’d probably remind him of his weight restriction, but his ribs be damned he wanted to hold her. He’s thankful that Ximena’s help doesn’t include hogging her or quizzing him on his past. It takes a time or two, but Ximena shows Viktor how to secure her in place and safely wear her.

“There you go!” Ximena beams, Viktor’s smile is the largest she’s seen, “You can also wear her on your back.”

“Do you need any help?” Viktor steps forward, one hand on Bronte’s back as he attempts to mimic how Ximena was standing, the other hand clutches his cane.  His body hurts still, but he was holding her before he found out about his wounds.

“Can you keep a family recipe a secret?” Ximena whispers, acting as though Bronte is already able to steal the information away and share it with the world.

There’s a childlike whimsy on Viktor's face as he nods. How beautiful it was, to have something like this. Ximena makes room for him at the counter as they continue to prepare food, she labels and instructs him on what to do, explaining her reasoning for everything and how some things are best measured with the heart. 

She shows him how to adjust flavors based on taste, how to balance the acidity without completely destroying the intended flavors of the recipe. He notices that she taps her finger on the seasoning shaker before she pours it every single time, or how she clicks her tongue as she adjusts the stove's temperature. Little things that seem like rituals, ones that Viktor wonders if Jayce does as well.

Viktor learns that she’s an incredible cook, he also notices that two fingers on her left hand are prosthetic. He doesn’t look long, but a mother’s intuition knows.

“Frost bite, car broke down during that blizzard over a decade ago,” Ximena moves her hand slowly, “Jayce made these for me, took a few tries, but I’ve fallen in love with these.”

“Jayce made them?”

“He’s brilliant,” Ximena sighs, “I think far too brilliant for where he works now, but I feel it’s mostly out of obligation to the family name. You know, he did bring up you working with us…I’d love to see your resume when you are ready. I don’t do the hiring but, I certainly can ensure your application is seen by the right person.”

“Thank you,” Viktor says with a smile, not yet ready to admit that he had applied to their company before.

Applied and given an offer Hector had him refuse.

It had been a job he wanted and a job that he knew he could get with his resume alone, even without word from Ximena or Talis. It was something he had earned himself.

Their cooking continues before Ximena speaks once more, “I’ve prepared some of Bronte’s clothes for a nest in a basket in the living room. Don’t worry, there’s no spit up on them..just pure baby smell.”

“I really appreciate it, I just…” Viktor looks down to Bronte and she looks up at him, she has a mole by her mouth just like he does, “I don’t think I’m going to be able to make one.”

“You will,” Ximena puts her hand onto his arm, “You just need things to make it with, certainly both of you need more clothing. More things that are yours .”

Ximena is very pointedly looking at the sweater that Viktor is wearing, it’s obvious that it’s not his, it doesn’t fit right. Viktor’s cheeks pink up a bit, he could have worn anything else, but this was the most comfortable; at least that’s what he tells himself. His omega instincts have claimed it as his own property, despite it smelling so richly like Jayce. But it doesn’t just smell like Jayce, it smells like his first few days postpartum that had hope.

Secretly, he’s decided it would have to be pried out of his cold dead hands.

“Oh no, this is mine now,” Vikto’s only half joking, it was the first thing Jayce had given him to wear, “I would like to see Jayce try and take it back.”

“Of course it is,” she chuckles.

“Is there…a way to learn how to make a proper nest?”

“It’s not something that can be taught since everyone’s is different,” Ximena goes back to cooking, “If It was, I’d teach you.”

It makes sense that it was supposed to come to him naturally, but just didn’t. Viktor thinks that Ximena really believes that it’s just because he doesn’t have enough clothing. Again the idea arises to ask Jayce, again he swallows it down.

“Did you know, a nest is more important for the omega than it is the baby?”

“Really?” 

“Mhm, they spend so much time nestled up against you, though there is nothing better than having your baby snuggled up beside you in your nest! The important part of the baby is the scenting and protection,” Ximena points out.

“Did things get worse for you at night?”

“Mhm, they called them the ‘sundown scaries.’ Such a ridiculous name for something so absolutely horrifying, Jayce’s father was a saint during that time.”

“When did they go away?”

“They should go away when Bronte is bigger if you have the support. Your brain is adjusting to a new life, hormones are running through your body. It can get really scary having your mind think of the worst possible scenario, just remember that I’m here and when I’m not, Jayce is.”

“I really don’t want to be that much of a burden,” Viktor watches as Bronte lifts her head up, how it wobbles but stays strong as she stares up at him.

“You are not a burden, if either of us thought that way we wouldn’t be doing all of this. If you need physical comfort, you can always ask, our family loves to hug and cuddle,” 

“I typically do not enjoy either of those things but….”

“But now you want it?”

“It’s…borderline torturous,” Viktor moves his hand to the bond mark on his neck.

“Is the medication helping your separation sickness?”

“It helps me not think of,” disgust crosses Viktor’s face, “Him with anything but resentment. But it doesn’t make…the desire to…” 

To be held.

To be scented.

To be loved.

“It will fade with time,” Ximena says as the truth rises to the tip of her tongue. 

She wants to tell Viktor that the reason he’s struggling is in part not having enough nesting materials, but also because her foolish yet brilliant son scented them. Ximena is wise enough to know that Viktor is likely craving his comfort instead of his actual mate. 

She wants to tell Viktor, but she swallows it back. There had been countless times in the past where she had attempted to cover for Jayce for his transgressions, for his impulsions and obsessions. Not this time.

She wants to tell Viktor, but Viktor realizes it as he stands there wrapped in the fabric Ximena just had on. He’d spent so much time in Jayce’s home and the sterility of the hospital, that he had nearly gone blind to the smell of the house.

Bronte smelt like sweetmilk and amber, that amber hadn’t come from himself nor had it come from Hector. Politely, he excuses himself for a minute to leave the kitchen and its variety of scents to the hallway and then his room.

Amber and cedarwood, Jayce’s scent filled every inch of the room. 

Swallowing hard he pulls the sleeve up on the sweater he’s wearing, smelling Bronte’s hair first as some type of pallet cleanser before sniffing his own wrist.

Amber and lavender.

Jayce had scented them both.

By the time Jayce comes down the stairs dressed for the day and his phone shoved into his back pocket, the other three have moved into the living room. Even if he’s late for the day, he feels a sense of accomplishment. He had a chance to call his doctor and get approval to restart his treatment, his prescriptions are sent to the local pharmacy and he’ll be able to start that night. 

There’s food prepared for him, wrapped in foil that he heats up quickly before taking the plate into the living room. Ximena has a small blanket on the floor where Bronte is doing tummy time, she lifts her head and looks towards the clock on the wall.

Viktor is standing by the bookshelf, one of Jayce’s journals in his hand. There's an interesting expression on his face, as though he’s trying to decode something that he’d written down. Usually Jayce is excited to share his works, but seeing Viktor’s judgemental gaze makes him feel a little embarrassed.

“Those are older plans and designs…” Jayce bypasses his mother to head to Viktor, “They aren’t fully fleshed out or anything.”

“You sign your notes?” Viktor blinked, showing the page that he was on, “A bit like you scent people, a little egotistical, don’t you think?”

Ximena, who was sitting in front of Bronte, turns her head so quickly that her hair nearly falls out of place and Jayce, almost drops his plate of food directly onto the table. 

“Viktor…I…” Jayce is afraid that the bridge they’ve been building was about to burn down.

“Am bad under pressure, as are bugs and…most fleshy things,” There’s a mischievous smile on Viktor’s face as he steps closer to Jayce, “your combination cane and…claw hand? Sounds wonderful in theory, but has some design flaws. Balance is one of them, not all cane users will be able to actually benefit from the claw. While not having to bend over sounds wonderful if the issue resides in the back, lifting the cane up to use it to pick something up may end up with someone’s ass on the ground, no?”

The room falls silent save for the clock on the wall.

“What?” Viktor furrows his brow, looking between Jayce and Ximena, “You have a few good ideas in here Jayce, truly.”

“Viktor,” Jayce puts the plate down and takes the journal when Viktor offers it back to him, “I didn’t realize I had done it, it was when you went to the hospital. I promise I wasn’t trying to…claim you or anything.”

“Oh! Someone needs a diaper change,” Ximena exclaims, picking up Bronte, who doesn’t actually need to be changed, “I’ll just take care of this real quick! No need to help me.”

Faster than Jayce had seen her move in years, she takes Bronte and escapes to the kitchen.

“I don’t mind that you scented Bronte,” Viktor sighs, he places both of his hands on the cane and places it in front of him, “If you didn’t…she may have naturally adopted Hector’s scent…or just would have felt a disconnect from anyone but me.”

Jayce listens, anxiety is spreading in his chest, the pendulum hangs in a stasis. Just like his nightmare days ago, he feels himself standing on the edge of the bridge before his foot lifts. 

“And I understand why you’d scent her, But me…” Viktor’s confused, “Why?”

Why would someone scent him without the intention of claiming him?

Why didn’t Jayce’s scent repulse him?

Why would someone risk forming any type of bond with someone as ugly as himself?

“Why?” Jayce seems just as confused, “Why not?”

The answer startles Viktor.

Jayce closes the distance between them, “You thought I was him, Viktor. You told me that babies cry,” his voice gets soft, gentle, “You asked me not to throw you out in the rain.”

A lump formed in Viktor’s throat, being vulnerable and raw was so incredibly difficult for him, but it appeared that it didn't matter with blood loss and fever. Viktor’s body told a story that his lips were too nervous to, yet in his weakest moments, his mind couldn’t help but taunt him. Hector found his way to haunt him and Jayce sat and listened.

“I..I was scared, Bronte was crying and I just wanted you both to feel safe. I didn’t want you to think that when the ambulance came, that I was leaving you outside… I didn’t want you to think I was Hector.”

Believing that Jayce had done it out of necessity, made it easier for Viktor to swallow, even if it felt like broken glass going down. They each held so much room for guilt that they didn't need any space to grow, neither harboring any such feelings of resentment against the other. 

“I’m sorry I did it without asking,” Jayce takes one hand and places it onto both of Viktor’s, his eyes sincere, “It won’t happen again. I promise.”

“What if I ask you for it?” 

Now it’s Jayce’s turn to be startled, “Ask for it?”

“It’s not going to gradually go away with me living here,” Viktor looks at Jayce's hand, he slides one hand free and places it on top of Jayce’s, sandwiching him between both of his.

Again, Viktor lifts his gaze to look at Jayce, entrapping him in a beautiful spill of honey, “You must take responsibility for your actions, Jayce.”

The finest jewelry with amber could not match Viktor’s eyes, their warmth and shine, radiant as the sun reflected off them. Jayce has fallen into them willingly, encased and preserved like insects through millenia.

Viktor has every right to be angry at him, to slap him and demand he never approach Bronte or himself again. Yet his voice is gentle, his eyes empty of disappointment. Jayce isn’t sure exactly what Viktor means by taking responsibility for his actions and for a moment, he’s seeing fireworks once more.

“How?” 

Pursing his lips, Viktor tries to maintain eye contact but can’t, the request is still too embarrassing, too personal for him to ask, but he must. He has too much pride to ask for Jayce to scent him again, to ask him to release that comforting warmth into the room no matter how much he wants it. To be completely drenched in it. Instead he must settle for a piece of clothing, something to add bulk to his nest.

“O-One of your blankets,” Viktor stutters out, now crumbling under Jayce’s eager gaze, “clean but with your scent. It…might help with the nest.”

“I can do that,” Jayce perks up, now grabbing onto Viktor’s hands without any restraint, “Just the one? I have some clothes I can lend you as well.”

“L-let’s just start with the blanket,” Viktor’s hands feel warm in Jayce’s, “I don’t know if I’ll need much.”

Jayce’s hands are much larger than his, his fingers long and thick, there’s callouses on the edges of his fingers from where he holds a pen. In contrast Viktor’s hands are long and thin, smaller than his by an impressive amount. 

“I’ll make sure it’s perfect,” Jayce lets go of Viktor’s hands, completely ready to go back up stairs and saturate the blanket he has in mind with his scent when Viktor grabs onto his shirt.

“Eat your breakfast,” Viktor points with his eyes, “Don’t worry about the blanket now.”

“But…” Jayce looks down at the food, “I’ve made things difficult for you, I should fix it now.”

“I likely won’t need it until night, if  you do it now…” Viktor’s cheeks pink as he grabs Jayce’s plate and hands it to him, “Then it won’t be as strong.”

Viktor’s hair falls in front of his face, shielding it from Jayce as he quickly returns back to the bookshelf. Jayce isn’t sure why he’s smiling, but he is, watching Viktor’s personality show, watching him acting human instead of in a state of fight or flight.

Jayce sits down to eat, Ximena still hasn’t come back into the room, so he takes advantage of this, “What college did you go to?”

“Piltover Academy,” Viktor takes one from the shelf and walks towards the couch sitting beside Jayce.

“What, really? What did you major in?“

“Dual major, Mathematical and Biomedical engineering, with a minor in education,” Viktor is flipping through Jayce’s designs, intrigued at the brilliance of all of these ideas, “Never finished my doctorate program.”

A dream that was long since taken away by Hector, but he longed to see himself in the cap and gown.

“Viktor…you….” breakfast is sounding less and less interesting to him, “You’re incredible! What year did you graduate?”

Jayce is wondering if they had shared the same professors or similar classes, he didn’t expect the bomb that Viktor was preparing to drop.

“Ah, here it is!” Viktor smiles as he lays the book flat on his lap, he’s excited and thankful that he didn’t have to search for days to find it.

Confused but intrigued, Jayce puts his plate down to see what Viktor was looking for and what exactly he found. When Jayce looks at the book he rolls his eyes, that project was one of his biggest embarrassments and nearly got him kicked out of the academy. 

“I almost got kicked out of Piltover for that,” Jayce sighs, “I snuck into the chem lab and nearly blew up that and the professor’s office next door.”

“Professor Heimerdinger, who was also the Dean of the academy.”

With a sigh Jayce crosses his arms, “Damn, so this whole time you’ve known this embarrassing story about me?” he’s smirking, but Viktor is smiling even wider now.

“Known?” Viktor chuckled a bit, “I was there , I took the incident report, Jayce Talis.”

And just like that, Viktor flipped the page to a picture of a poorly drawn Professor Heimerdinger beside a poorly drawn Viktor from his college days. His hair short and close to his head, his cane at his side, and his tell tale moles in the right spots.

“I had to make sure it was you, before I said anything,” Viktor’s teeth are showing laughs, Jayce is mesmerized by it, “Otherwise that could have been incredibly awkward.”

“It was you!” Jayce’s smile matches Viktor’s, “I barely even remember that other than the hearing to determine if I was kicked out or not. How the hell did I not get expelled?”

Viktor winks, “Guess we will never know.”

“Viktor!” Jayce turns to him, face flushed, “How did I not get expelled? Was it my mom?”

“Mmhm, no though she did try, that wasn’t the deciding factor,” Viktor teases, leaning into Jayce just a little bit, “though I might have forgotten the deciding factor.”

As Viktor leans in, he releases lavender, sweetmilk, and amber into the air. It feels pointed but it’s not, he’s simply releasing the pheromones out of happiness out of the joy of reminiscing and teasing Jayce. Jayce smells himself on Viktor, though only partially, it lights a fire inside him.

“You remember,” Jayce is smiling, inching closer, “I can tell.”

“What was it they called you?” Viktor continues to tease, changing the topic as his eyes scan Jayce’s face, “The Golden Boy? Or was it Boy of Progress?”

Jayce’s heart skips a beat, both nicknames usually made him cringe, but hearing them from Viktor shifted something in him. His mouth waters and suddenly, his tongue doesn’t fit right in his mouth anymore. Impulsive and bad under pressure, Jayce releases more of his pheromones into the room, flooding the couch and Viktor.

Viktor’s pupils shift and his expression changes, there’s a momentary flicker of something before he stands up and excuses himself. He leaves the room with his hand on the back of his neck, the bond mark burning against his hand as his heart beats hard against his ribcage. He goes back into his room, hiding in the bathroom for a moment, staring at the ceiling as he recounts equations that had long since fallen out of any study regimen he’s ever had.

Jayce sits in a moment of daze, his hand had lifted out towards Viktor but he hadn’t realized it. Upon realizing he basically scent bombed him, Jayce sighs at his own stupidity. He’s not sure what he’s doing or why he’s doing it, he’s finding himself drawn to Viktor and he feels it’s morally wrong. Wrong for catching feelings for a man who’s trying to escape an abusive relationship. It’s just another thing on the list of things he questions about himself.

When it’s safe, Ximena pokes her head into the room to see Jayce slumped over on the couch and it smells strongly like her son. She sighs, knowing that it’s not outside of the realm of possibility that Jayce had once again acted without thinking and scented poor Viktor again. As she pulls back, though, she smells lavender and sweetmilk. It’s much lighter, weaker in compassion to an unmated Alpha, but still there enough to make her raise her brow and smile to herself.

Upon hearing that a storm was coming, one much stronger than the past few days, Viktor finds himself on the back porch with Bronte nestled into his chest. His hand presses her softly to him, making sure that she can feel his heart beat as he sits down on a chair.

The deck is small, partially under an awning, set with an outdoor dining set and a grill. Viktor can picture it, Jayce in the back with a kiss the cook apron, grilling food for his friends as they talk and ‘shoot the shit.’ A few beers around the table, a fire pit safely placed away from the deck.

Jayce intended for Viktor to be here and he has the smallest of hopes that one day, he’d have his friends over and Viktor could watch them. Maybe not converse much with them, maybe not directly hangout with them either, but relearn how to interact with a group of people. Alphas made him uneasy, but a large group of people made him all the more nervous.

Hector’s friends were gnarly people, ugly and mean, abusive and crass, if Viktor wanted to walk along with others again, he’d have to start small.

Start quietly, in the kitchen with Ximena and Jayce.

The grass is the greenest he’d seen in a long time, plush and soft. Carefully he gets up and goes down the few steps to the grass, sitting in it he splays his hands out inside it. A storm is coming, he can feel it upon his skin and in the taste of the wind.

Ximena turned on the TV, an old thing that Jayce admitted he never used, and listened to the forecast. The nostalgic sound of a weather alert danced across the bottom of the screen, the beeping blaring into their ears. 

When he was younger, he’d sit on his mother’s lap and watch the weather, seeing if that would affect his father’s work for the day. Seeing if it would mean that his mother could stay home with him or if they both had to leave and work. His parents used to love spending time with him.

Viktor used to love the rain, how it felt upon his face, how the air tasted before and after. The way the hair on his arms would prickle if the lightning was too close, the rolling thunder that reminded him of his mother’s purr, his fathers rumble.

Now it just made him think of Hector’s rampages, his anger and frustration at getting stuck at home with Viktor. And even worse, it reminded him of the first few days Bronte had been alive, how the thunder rolled with Viktor's cries as he pushed Bronte out of him. 

How Hector had grabbed Viktor by his hair and dragged him and Bronte out of the door, locking him out and kicking him to the curb. How the hail pelted against him as he walked aimlessly, finding himself on Progress Bridge.

One day he’d have to teach Bronte not to be afraid of storms, of thunder and the lightning but right now he couldn’t imagine doing it. Knowing that it was happening soon filled him with an anticipatory dread, knowing that it would be laid upon his night time depression just made it worse.

Already he can see it in the sky, the sun turning way to the dark clouds obscuring the light from the sky. The void rolls in with the darkness, hidden in the clouds preparing to call for Viktor once more. 

Other than the hospital, this is the first time he stepped foot outside of the house. He’s fearful to go to the store, fearful to go anywhere that isn’t the safety of Jayce’s house and now his back yard. Hector might live in Zaun, but that doesn’t mean his influence isn’t at the grocery store. It’s a shame too, because Ximena had mentioned that Viktor should go shopping with her for more personalized clothing. 

He wants to, but he’s scared to cross that threshold.

He’ll have to when he goes to Jayce’s work, when he hopes they will accept his resume a second time.

“Mm.” Bronte makes a gentle noise, lifting her head up as she stares up at Viktor.

Viktor looks down to her, his beautiful girl with thick brown hair, “Hello beautiful,” he leans forward to kiss the top of her head, smelling her baby scent, “Are you enjoying time with Ximena?” 

It feels wrong, though, to call her by her first name, “Or babička? No, that would make more sense for my mother…though you won’t meet him, if we are going to be realistic,” the sun hasn’t set yet, so the tears don’t budge, “Babi or abuela? These are all ways to say ‘Grandma’ one is Czech and the other is Spanish."

Bronte watches, her hand pressing against Viktor’s neck as she feels at his shirt and skin.

“I never learned how to talk to babies,” Viktor snuggles into her, “I don’t think Jayce has either, reading you books about physics and mechanics…granted we don’t have any baby books.”

It doesn’t feel right to call Jayce by his name either, but he had no idea what role he played in their lives. A benefactor, an alpha who scents everyone and everything on impulse; Viktor grins, the golden boy who nearly blew up his bosses office.

Quicker than expected, as he’s gazing down at Bronte, the sun vanishes from the sky, leaving the two sitting in the darkened grass. Viktor blinks, wrapping his arms around the bundle against his chest as he looks up to the angry clouds above him.

A flicker of lightning is followed by the roar of thunder, Viktor’s eyes darken as they widened. Raindrops begin to fall on his face and now he can’t feel his legs, Bronte starts to cry but he’s not sure if it’s real or an echo. The wind feels turbulent, thrashing around his hair as it had as he stood on the edge of the bridge.

He feels like he’s being hunted but his body won’t budge.

Gritting his teeth, he rolls himself over, holding Bronte carefully in place as he starts to drag himself across the grass, abandoning his cane and peaceful evening. Another thunder cracks above him, he lowers his body down over Bronte to protect her from the rain, his chest hurts.

Another panic attack, he’s drowning but he has an iron grip on Bronte. The void can call for him, over the sound of the thunder, but he won’t let her go again. He wouldn’t dare risk her life again.

Jayce runs out the back door, sockless and without a jacket, he jumps down the steps and puts his hand on Viktor’s shoulder. He panicked, afraid that Viktor’s postpartum eclampsia had reared its ugly head once more.

“Hey,” he starts to turn Viktor towards him, noticing that far off look in his eyes as he spirals into himself, “I’ve gotcha.”

Jayce picks Viktor up bridal style, bounding up the steps and back into the house. He sits down on the floor, back to the wall as he cradles Viktor on his lap, one hand goes to his head, the other grabbing onto one of the hands that hold Bronte. He doesn’t need to ask what happened, he knows, he feels it in his bones.

“I won’t leave you outside,” Jayce rocks him slowly, “You’ll stay inside where it’s warm, where it’s dry. Both of you.”

Viktor stirs, the weather muffled now by the thicker walls of their home.

Jayce had told him when they left the hospital that this was their home.

Viktor closes his eyes tightly before he turns, pressing his face into Jayce’s neck, “Promise me.”

“I promise,” Jayce holds him, feeling his body tremble, “I’ll never kick you out, I’ll never change the locks…I’ll get you a key and a back up, a code and a secret way in. This is your home.”

What did he do to you? The question burns Jayce’s throat.

Bronte doesn’t cry when she’s between them, she sits and listens to the unfamiliar words the two of them speak. When she grows older, she’ll never know of the giant steps it took either of them to get her there.

Viktor cries silently in Jayce’s arms, he doesn’t fight his hold like he’d done before, instead allowing himself to be immersed in it. Jayce doesn’t scent him, even though Viktor really wants it, but he’s not yet ready to ask. Instead he sits there, allowing himself to be rocked like a child to the sound of the rain against the back window and door.

Swallowing, Viktor looks at Bronte, this time her lips don’t shiver, she isn’t cold.

They sit like that until Viktor can feel his legs again.

Together, they towel off, Jayce runs out to grab Viktor’s cane before together they give Bronte a bath. Somehow, Viktor’s mood is a little lighter, it hasn’t completely fallen into a depression despite the sun hiding behind the clouds. Maybe they are just lucky because they hadn’t had dinner yet or maybe it’s because it’s not yet night time, but that doesn’t save him from the anxiety. Viktor’s hands tremble as hail hits the window or when the thunder is a little too sudden, Bronte doesn’t seem to mind, enjoying her bath. Jayce stands a little closer, hoping to soothe Viktor’s anxiety with proximity.

“She’s got a little mole on her face,” Jayce shields her face as Viktor pours water on her hair, their movements gentle, “Just like you.”

“Is that so?” Viktor hums, testing the temperature of the water before filling up a cup once more.

“And her eyes are looking more and more golden,” Jayce leans onto the edge of the sink, they are careful to not get her cast wet, “I think they might stick.”

“She’s less than a month old,” Viktor raises his eyebrows, smiling softly, “There’s a chance they change before she turns one…”

Viktor wouldn’t speak into existence that he hopes they stay gold or at least tone down to brown, he doesn’t want to say he doesn’t want them to be purple. If he says that and they did turn purple, he would feel bad for wanting anything else, even if it meant looking into the eyes of Hector. 

Jayce grabs onto the cup that Viktor is holding, gently guiding it over Bronte, “What color…are Hector’s eyes?”

Swallowing hard, Viktor pours the cup, “Purple.”

“Her’s will look at you with love,” Jayce steps closer to Viktor, his body half behind him, “If they become purple.” 

Jayce doesn’t want him to feel trapped, so he doesn’t rest his arms on either side of the sink. He just has one on the cup that they slowly rinse Bronte off with.

“That’s…true,” Viktor leans slightly onto one leg, pressing himself ever so slightly against Jayce for support. 

If Bronte has purple eyes, they wouldn’t belong to Hector.

“The day that I gave birth to Bronte, Hector locked me in the bedroom,” Viktor puts the cup down, “He disappeared, came back only after she was born. Only saw her for a moment when he dragged me out of the apartment and into the street.”

“Because she was crying?” Jayce speaks softly.

“Yeah,” Viktor’s response is barely audible, “He tried to hurt her, to….” he grits his teeth, “shut her up.”

Viktor closes his eyes, the cup slipping out of his hands and into the suds of the sink. Jayce carefully, tentatively wraps his arms around him from behind, Viktor inhales shakily, lifting his hands to hold onto Jayce’s arms.

“I’m ashamed I didn’t leave myself,” Viktor’s holding back tears, “that I’m only here because he kicked us out…that I could still be there.”

“But you are here now,” Jayce whispers, “both warm and safe. You chose this, to stay, to live here with Bronte. I don’t think you still would have been there if he didn’t kick you out, Viktor. I think you were ready to leave.”

“I couldn’t leave,” Viktor tilts his head back into Jayce, it hurts to recall it all, “I wanted to but I couldn’t. ”

“But you did ,” Jayce rests his chin onto Viktor’s shoulder, he’s far too comfortable doing this, far too comfortable holding onto him, “You walked away from the apartment, walked to the bridge…then to my car.”

Bronte makes a soft coo, moving her arms around as the two bring their attention back to her. Viktor sniffles as he dries Bronte off, lifting her out of the sink wrapped in a plush towel before changing her into her pajamas. Jayce watches, almost longingly, before he starts to clean up the sink and put everything away.

Once dinner has been eaten, Bronte has been fed and books have been read Ximena takes over for Jayce and Viktor. The storm continues to rage outside, causing the lights to flicker and Ximena looking for flashlights and candles.

Night has fallen and Viktor’s demeanor has shifted more drastically, he sits at the kitchen table in the dark and stares out the window. The power is still on, but he chooses to watch the rain and wind, he wants to fall in love with the rain again. Through the roaring of the wind he hears her, the void beckoning him to her. A siren’s song that’s become more and more tempting to follow as the clock ticks on. 

Before Jayce has a chance to talk to him again, Viktor goes to bed, seeing that Jayce had left a blanket folded up on the night stand. Viktor doesn’t turn the lights on when he changes into pajamas, doesn’t turn the lights on when he brushes his teeth and washes his face. 

He leaves them off as he crawls into his bed and grabs onto Jayce’s blanket, even in the darkness Viktor can see it’s blue and red. It’s soft and smells so much like Jayce. Viktor trills, short and quick, enough to startle himself before he wraps himself in the blanket and lays down. Without any restraint in the privacy of his own room, he nuzzles into its softness.

He feels safer, but still so incredibly sad. 

Sitting up, Viktor tries to make the nest, unwrapping himself from the blanket as he places Bronte’s clothes, his own, and Jayce’s blanket together. He’s trying so hard but it doesn’t feel right, it’s still not enough. He needs more of Jayce and perhaps some of his own clothing. Tears fill his eyes as he sits up with frustration, that momentary dopamine that Jayce’s blanket had given him vanished just as quickly as it came.

This time when Jayce hears Viktor crying, he decides he can’t sit around anymore, the blanket wasn’t enough and Jayce needed to take responsibility. Tossing his workbook aside, he heads up stairs and begins to gather all of his clothing into a basket, he’s hoping Viktor doesn’t reject him, he’s hoping that Viktor accepts his help. In a last ditch attempt, Jayce grabs all of the sheets on his bed and tears them off, stuffing them into the basket before heading to Viktor’s door.

“Viktor?” Jayce speaks through the door.

Viktor doesn’t respond, he just closes his eyes and shakes his head, curling in on himself as Hector’s cruelty runs through his head once more. As the rain sounds more and more like the sounds of him freefalling off the bridge.

Uninvited, Jayce opens the door, he knows he looks foolish carrying everything in an overflowing basket, but it doesn’t matter. Jayce can feel Viktor’s pain. He closes the door behind him, walking up to Viktor’s bed before he puts the basket down beside it.

The nest is pathetic, small and disorganized and he can feel Viktor’s sorrow in his scent, laying heavy in the room. Still, Jayce doesn’t breach the privacy of his nest, sitting patiently until Viktor looks his way.

“Can I?”

Viktor knows he’s not a burden, but his brain is trying to make him think he is, he fights against it as hard as he can. This isn’t being done out of obligation, Jayce is offering because he wants to. Jayce wanted to help.

So Viktor says yes, he says please, he asks Jayce for help.

With permission granted, Jayce dumps the pile of clothes and sheets on the bed before he crawls into bed beside him. Viktor’s mind is too much of a mess to make a proper nest right now, Jayce can tell. So he drags a few things up above their heads and each side of them, it’s not a nest, but he hopes it’ll be the foundation of Viktor finally feeling safe.

Jayce wraps his arms around Viktor, sliding them both under the sheets, using his red and blue blanket to lay over the two of them. Their bodies intertwine, legs between legs and Jayce’s arms cradling Viktor like something precious. Viktor presses his face to Jayce’s chest, wetting it with tears as he curls his hands underneath his chin. 

“You’ll make one soon, okay?” Jayce gently runs his hand up and down Viktor’s back, “And you’ll be so comfy, you’ll never want to leave. I’ll bring you something to eat but you’ll have become one with the bed.”

Still pressed against Jayce’s chest, feeling his heart beat steady, Viktor smiles with his eyes closed, tears kissing his cheeks. 

“It’ll be perfect despite its flaws, all the love in your heart-”

“Jayce,” Viktor’s breath is warm against Jayce’s shirt.

“Ah, sorry…” he laughs nervously, “Got a little carried away.”

“You can scent me,” Viktor says meekly, “If you want.”

Of course Jayce wants too, the first time had been an accident and every time after that felt like a compulsion. He’s stopped himself more than once from doing it today, carrying him inside and then holding him by the sink. Jayce respected Viktor to not do it again, but he felt a weight lift from his shoulder when Viktor asked him to do it.

“I do,” Jayce feels quick to respond, placing his chin onto Viktor’s head as he closes his eyes, “I really do.”

For the first time in his life, Viktor is properly scented by someone who cares about every inch of him. Jayce is gentle as he nuzzles into him, nosing into his hair by his neck, sending goosebumps rising over his body. His hands are careful, respectful as he rubs his wrist against Viktor’s.

It’s not the same as when omegas do it, but again it makes Viktor trill, high pitched and excited. Viktor lifts his head up and covers his mouth, looking a little sheepish as Jayce looks at him with the largest puppy eyes.

“It’s okay,” Jayce encourages him, gently sliding their wrists against each other again, “You can feel happy, you can feel safe.”

Embarrassed, Viktor presses his face back into Jayce’s chest, his trill replaced instead with a purr, loud and strong. He smiles to himself because he really does feel it. Happy and safe.

The void can not be heard over the omega’s purr and the pendulum slows, the steadiest rhythm it can muster.

Notes:

Celebrating some art:

Jayce and Viktor meeting on the bridge by Tayyellowsugar: https://x.com/TayARMY22/status/1921942198116831519
"Do you want her" scene from Chapter 2 by Ames: https://x.com/corkyno/status/1927010865380819163
Jayce & Bronte by Kotamadaa: https://x.com/kotamadaa/status/1927535590192316912
Adult Diapers by Nam: https://x.com/A_L_I_E_N_xdxd/status/1927843869745631281

Chapter 8: Plans

Notes:

This chapter ended up not being what I originally thought it would be, but still paces us to meet Hector next chapter.

Sorry for the late update same with my other fic, my mental health hasn't been good. I got a new diagnosis (MDD) and new medications as well and I'm trying to adjust to wellbutrin.
I responded to some comments but couldn't respond to others, I am sorry and I can try again later when I'm not feeling so low.

It’s around the time that Ximena typically wakes Viktor to pump, she has everything on her hip in a basket as she softly hums to herself. Viktor trusts her and she’s thankful for that, she does wonder now, if he will wake a little differently with the storm outside. She hadn’t heard it all, she had been resting, but she could tell something was off.

Her intention is to be careful, to wake him even more gently than she normally does and remind him that if he doesn’t do it, he’ll be sore in the morning. Instead, as she opens the door she realizes that Viktor isn’t alone in that room. The past few days she’s come to expect lavender with the slightest hint of her son’s scent, but right now, she smelt it in full force.

Each aspect of their pheromones mingle, just as their limbs are intertwined in the sheets. Ximena wasn’t sure what her son was going to do, if he was going to push away from Viktor and Bronte or if he was going to fully immerse himself into the role of being a father, a partner. A smile comes to her face, though she’s worried about the course that they were about to embark on, she will remain a supporting force. 

Knowing that if Viktor doesn’t pump tonight, he will awaken uncomfortable, she creeps closer to rouse Jayce. Maybe this could be the start of something more, if each of them allowed it to be. It was already a massive step, that Viktor was allowing Jayce in like this. If he didn’t want Jayce there, regardless of what his omega instincts wanted, he wouldn’t do it.

Just as he had fought so hard against his desires for Hector, his will was stronger than his instincts, even if it hurt him. Even if it made him miserable, that was just the type of person that Viktor was.

When she’s close enough she places the basket onto the bedside table and looks down at the two. There isn’t a nest there, per se, but it still held two people and a messy pile of Jayce’s clothing and sheets. It wasn’t a nest, yet, but one day it very well could be. 

“Mijo,” Ximena lowers herself down to Jayce’s ear, her hand gently on his shoulder, because it’s not a nest, she does not worry about breaching Viktor’s trust, “Viktor needs to pump.”

She doesn’t use her pheromones to wake him, knowing that would be impolite to do in Viktor's domain. Instead she waits a moment until her son stirs, his arms wrapped around Viktor, pulling him closer as he opens he makes a soft grunt of acknowledgement.

“Viktor needs to pump,” she whispers again, tapping the supplies, “Or he’ll be uncomfortable tomorrow, I’ll come back to get the milk.”

Once she’s made her expectations clear, she waits until he begins to stir before leaving. 

Jayce blinks his eyes open, for a moment forgetting where he is as his mother’s words dawn upon him. The thunder storm continues outside, but Jayce still waits a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark. 

Viktor is still purring, though it’s less of something Jayce can hear now and more something that he feels with their bodies pressed so close together. It’s gentle, healing, and tempts Jayce to close his eyes and drift back to sleep. Such a soft vibration, keeping his own heart beat slow and steady, Jayce feels selfish, he doesn’t want it to end. 

Slowly, he pulls his hand from Viktor’s waist and gently places it on the back of Viktor’s head, his face still nuzzled into Jayce’s neck, centimeters away from his scent gland. Viktor doesn’t flinch when Jayce touches him, as he cradles the back of his head, his fingernails gently scratching at his scalp.

“Viktor,” Jayce says just above a whisper, “It’s time to pump.”

“...pump…” Viktor mutters, the purr getting louder for just a moment as his lips part before being subdued.

Slowly Viktor pulls his head back, he doesn’t open his eyes though, as he longs for a restful night sleep, for dreams and not nightmares of fitful bouts of anxiety. One of his hands lifts, pressing gently against Jayce’s chest as he shuffles to sit up. Jayce follows his lead, grabbing the basket from the beside table and sitting it with them.

“I’ll go to the bathroom until you’re done…” Jayce whispers.

Viktor, though, leans his shoulder and back on to him, blindly grabbing at the pump in the basket before lifting up his shirt and setting it up himself. Jayce is starting to wonder if Viktor is actually awake or not, because his breathing hasn’t changed and he hasn’t said or moved much.

“Okay…” Jayce smiles as Viktor leans against him, Jayce makes sure that he’s steady enough for Viktor to lean against. 

Used to pumping, Viktor hooks everything up with his eyes closed while still resting against Jayce. The purring is a little louder now and Jayce’s arms around Viktor to keep him secure as he sleeps, watching his chest rise and fall.

It’s not the first time Jayce has seen Viktor pump, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to assume that he can always be there. He’s also been respectful every time, looking away to allow Viktor to keep his dignity. 

Jayce waits, himself half asleep, resting his chin on Viktor’s head before closing his eyes as he waits for Viktor to finish. It takes about twenty minutes before Viktor is done, frees himself of the pump and places it back into the basket. Viktor though, doesn’t lay back down, at least not yet.

Taking the basket, Jayce places it back onto the side table and only then does Viktor follow him back to laying down on the bed. Seamlessly, they fall back into their positions, Viktor held in the safety of Jayce’s arms, legs intertwined in a way that’s comfortable for the two of them. Falling back into a deep slumber, why the rain continues to drip down the window.

Come morning, the two wake up together as the sunlight trickles in through the window. It lights Jayce’s face in such a way that Viktor lays in bed, looking up at him. In such close proximity, Viktor realizes that Jayce has a scar on his eyebrow, but they are still thick and dark. He doesn’t have morning breath and he takes slow and deep breaths when he’s deep in slumber.

Viktor should wake him, push him out of bed or crawl out himself, but he’s feeling a little selfish. Enjoying the warmth of someone else’s body against his, feeling his warm breathing against his skin. It’s peaceful, it feels like something a healthy relationship could have.

But they don’t have a relationship and Viktor feels he’s taking advantage of Jayce’s kindness. They have a friendship, he reminds himself as he admires Jayce’s facial features, and a scent bond out of necessity.

He wants more, though, now that he’s remembered that Jayce was the one he had saved from being kicked out of school. That there’s something familiar about him, even from before that seemingly miniscule event in his life. Viktor wonders how many times they had crossed paths, sat in the same library, or got coffee from the same place.

It’s possible that they had mutual friends, when Viktor was allowed to have them. Or even acquaintances, maybe they had been to the same parties. Although Viktor hadn’t been to many, being surrounded by a bunch of loud drunk people wasn't his thing, he had been to just a few with some close friends.

Maybe Jayce had been the same, between his studies and inventions, between exploding the lab and making blueprints, he had been to a party where Viktor was. Perhaps they had crossed paths and before Viktor had met Hector, he had looked upon Jayce while intoxicated and thought.

Handsome, beautiful, radiant.  

At least, that’s what he thought now, justifying those thoughts in the hopes of running into this man more than once years ago. Viktor hadn’t been one to open up so quickly, even to those who were kind to him, but if they had met before…

A hand falls onto his cheek and Jayce blinks his eyes open, his expression is soft and there’s a smile upon his lips. For the briefest of seconds, Viktor’s eyes drift down to them as he wonders if they are soft or if his beard makes them rough.

“Move in with me,” Jayce whispers, his thumb gently stroking Viktor’s face.

It’s so incredibly intimate, but the words cause Viktor’s brows to furrow.

“Am I…not?” Viktor lifts his gaze from Jayce’s lips up to his eyes, he feels Jayce’s thumb on his face, it’s warm.

“I mean…” Jayce’s eyes scan Viktors’ face, connecting the moles upon it like a constellation before falling back onto his gaze, “Take up space, make this place yours just as much as it’s mine.”

While Viktor wasn’t a social butterfly, he didn’t like being perceived by crowds of people, by being the focus of everyone's attention. He enjoyed holding space. Being someone, being recognized by others and given the room to laugh and talk. Hector taught him to be silent, to keep his eyes on the floor, to not be too loud, to not protest.

Taking up space, owning something to place into this house that wasn’t Bronte.

“How?” Viktor musters, as though he’d forgotten how it was to own something, to have something.

The question, while innocent in nature, was absolutely devastating to Jayce.

“If you don’t mind this,” Jayce moves his hand, motioning to their close proximity, “Move into my room with me, I have an extra room upstairs that can become Bronte’s nursery.”

Viktor’s lips part, close, and then open again. He’s trying to think of a reason that makes him a bad roommate, someone who should be kept separate from others. Not because he believes it, not because he wants to be separated from Jayce, but because of Hector. 

“I have nightmares,” Viktor states clearly, “I’ll wake you up.”

“So do I,” Jayce can see the uncertainty on Viktor’s face, “but I didn’t last night, neither did you. Full transparency, it could help you with your nest…with your nights, but it won’t make my scent go away. If anything, it’ll get stronger. I can sleep on the floor or downstairs too, maybe just being in the bedroom will help.”

Viktor realizes that when Jayce isn’t sure what to do, he’ll ramble, releasing his stream of consciousness as it hits him. It’s comforting in a way, gives Viktor something to focus on, to ease the fear of taking away Jayce’s chances at finding a mate by taking up his bed space.

Jayce wouldn’t have asked, if he didn’t mean it, he knew what it meant if he invited him into his bed. Viktor didn’t mind smelling like Jayce and if given the chance, he would choose to keep it that way; at least within reason. It was a comfort out of necessity.

“Okay,” Viktor agrees, not because he’s forced or somehow convinced, but because he’s been reassured, “Okay.”

There’s a sudden urge in Jayce, to lean forward and kiss Viktor right in the middle of the forehead. He buries the urge, instead examining how Viktor’s bruises have nearly faded away.

“Jayce,” Viktor snaps Jayce out of his stare, “We’ll be able to make Bronte a nursery?”

“Mhm, I figure we can get started today,” Jayce’s thumb is caressing Viktor’s face absentmindedly, but he pauses when he notices that Viktor’s eyes begin to grow wet.

Welling with tears of happiness instead of sorry, as his eyes curl up as his lips pull into a smile. Just like the first time that Jayce heard him laugh, he’s mesmerized by him, the way his cheeks move and the way his lashes fall upon them.

“I can’t even describe to you how much I’ve wanted to give her a nursery, a bedroom, a space to simply be, ” Viktor wraps his arms around Jayce fully, hugging him tightly.

“Thank you, Jayce , ” Viktor says with his head to the side, not muffling himself with Jayce’s chest, “For showing me this.”

Only you can show me this.

A variation of the phrase itches at the back of his brain, he’s  not sure where he’s heard it before, but he knows it’s come from Viktor. An echo through space or time, something he’s heard before but can’t really place. Jayce is sure that it’s not from the explosion in the lab; he can’t focus too much on it though, the fireworks behind his eyes have lit once more.

“Kindness?” 

“Kindness,” Viktor repeats as he lets go, sitting up as his hair falls to the side, “Only skims the surface.”

Humanity, tenderness, home.

Viktor knows that Jayce isn’t a perfect human being, that those don’t exist anywhere other than the eyes of people who either hate themselves or hate the person they are supposed to love. He knows that Jayce has his flaws, his impulsivity or the way he seems to get small bursts of energy. 

There’s something there. Viktor wishes he could place his fingertips to Jayce’s forehead and feel what that something is. To know Jayce just as deeply as he has learned about Viktor, his conditions and injuries, his depression and his trauma. 

If Jayce was so ready to help him thrive, to help Bronte, despite his own struggles, Viktor wanted to know about them to support him back. But there’s no way for Viktor to politely ask:

What’s wrong with you?

What tricks does your mind play?

Instead he asks, “Why were you going to jump?”

Sitting up, Jayce looks at Viktor with his eyes a little wide. Somehow he’s not surprised by Viktor’s timing, how it’s awkward and right after such a tender moment, how it’s bold and his mother is in the other room.

“You know so much of my struggles,” Viktor stretches his legs out on the bed, his hand going to massage the muscles in his leg. They ache, they’ve been neglected, they need his damn brace, “You say you have nightmares yourself and there is this…sadness in your eyes when you look through your own works. So, Jayce. Why were you going to jump?”

He’s thrown directly into the fire, though he was given a little bit of a warning Jayce still wasn’t able to prepare himself for the flames. Clearing his throat, he pushes himself to the edge of the bed, his hands pressed tight.

“Everything I used to do, made me brilliant. Then everything I did was to be expected from the heir of Talis Enterprise, before becoming everything that I shouldn’t be focusing on,” Jayce shakes his head, “My most recent project was about packaging . I could be making things that actually make a difference in people's lives.”

Viktor scoots closer, placing his legs over the edge of the bed as he sits beside Jayce, he’s listening intently. 

“I felt stuck and useless, the color drained from my life. I go through that sometimes, incredible lows and then colossal highs, I used to get treatment for it.”

“Used to?” 

“Well, I’ve talked to my doctor about restarting,” Jayce is quick to clarify, “I figure that’s something I should have shared with you earlier.”

“Eh, it wasn’t hard to put some things together, we did meet trying to kill ourselves. They say a certain level of brilliance comes with mental illness,” Viktor says casually.

“Do they?” Jayce turns to him, brows raised.

“Not sure actually, I thought it sounded fitting,” Viktor looks forward before carefully standing up and reaching for his cane, “or somewhat motivating, did it work?”

“No, not really,” Jayce laughs, “Maybe saying…like knows like would make more sense?”

Viktor scrunches his nose, looking at Jayce and up and down, “Do you mean by brilliance or are you telling me we share the same mental diagnosis?”

“Brillance,” Jayce stands as well to see the mischievous twinkle in Viktor’s eyes, “I’m not a psychologist but I think we might have a few differences in what we have going on upstairs.”

“A few differences,” Viktor smiles, “Mayhaps a few in common.”

“When we’re better off, we can compare notes,” Jayce puts his hand onto Viktor’s lower back as they walk towards the door.

“I’d like to compare project notes,” Viktor laughs, “I’d love to see a few of your projects. Not the ones you have for work, the ones that you want to do. Maybe we can bring them to life?”

“The first thing I’d like to focus on…” Jayce muses, chewing on his lip slightly as they walk down the hallway, “Is moving you in and building that nursery.”

Viktor’s eyes light up, his cheeks pink just slightly as he continues forward, “Alright.”

Together they walk into the kitchen, the soft kick of chorizo sizzling in a pan with eggs and potatoes. It’s a simple breakfast and not Ximena’s specialty, but enough to power them through their day. Bronte and Ximena are in the living room, allowing the two to eat breakfast together in relative silence before taking over once more.

Not wanting to make Ximena wait any longer, the two eat quickly before heading into the livingroom. Ximena sits on the couch, reading a book while Bronte lays on a blanket on her back, her eyes drift around the room, but her focus is mainly on the clock with the broken pendulum. 

Ximena stirs when they enter, closing her book as she sits up a little straighter. There are slight bags under her eyes, but she carries them with grace that Viktor admires.

“Mama,” Jayce starts, coming in to sit on the couch beside her, “Why don’t you head home for a few days?”

“Are you sure, Mijo?”

“Yes,” Jayce gets onto his knees beside Bronte, his hand falling onto her tummy as he smiles down at her, “We are going to plan this one’s room.”

“A room?” Ximena claps her hands together, her eyes sparkle as she looks between Jayce and Viktor, “That’s wonderful! I can watch her while you go out?”

A pit begins to form in Viktor’s stomach at the idea of leaving the house and entering the public. It’s different then the doctors office, they’d been lucky with only having a few people in the waiting room for Bronte’s appointments. 

“We need to plan it out first,” Jayce leans down to Bronte, “Don’t we, Bunny Girl?”

Bronte coos, her arms flailing out to the side as she looks at Jayce with something that could have been a smile but it was likely gas. His hand is massive compared to hers, swallowing her abdomen as he smiles at her. She’s so tiny, she’s certainly grown in the past week, but she’s still so little. Jayce sticks his finger to her hand and she grips it tightly, her other arm moving as she looks in his direction. Neither of them hear just how loud Viktor’s fear of going to the store is, they just hear the sound of the Pendulum.

Viktor isn’t sure if Jayce said that they weren’t going because he somehow knew of his woes or if he simply knows that each of them prefer some type of plan. Regardless, he allows himself to feel relief, it would give him a few days to either plan or somehow avoid. He could suggest that he stays home with Bronte while Jayce goes and buys everything, but that doesn’t sound fair. It also sounds like a lot of work on Jayce’s part. 

It’s something else Viktor knows he’ll have to take one step at a time, once they start planning he hopes his excitement will replace his anxiety. Allowing the pit to now dissolve, he sits down onto the couch and watches as Jayce carefully flips Bronte over onto her belly.

“Thank you for all of your help,” Viktor smiles, “We wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.”

“I’ll be back in a few days to check on you,” Ximena stands up before giving each of them a hug and a kiss to the forehead, “call me if you need anything I’ll come right over. Remember the meals I have prepped for you.”

When she reaches Viktor, she puts her hand gently on his shoulder as their eyes meet, “Remember that other than Bronte’s Táta, you are Viktor. Have your own space, do you have a cell phone?”

Viktor leans and smiles as she speaks to him, it’s similar to Jayce telling him that he needed to take up space. It appears that he often forgets his own needs, his own existence as a person outside of what he was told he needed to do. It’s simple, it’s obvious, yet he still is unsuccessful. 

“I used to,” Viktor answers slowly, “I…have misplaced it.”

Misplaced wasn’t the right word, left behind was. Viktor has had the same phone number since highschool, where he worked his ass off in order to buy his first phone. His attachment to that phone number,  the pride associated with it, all seems meaningless now. But still, he does miss that phone number, he knows it's likely sitting on the bedside table or tossed onto the floor.

The screen is broken and the audio is warped, the camera manages to work and it’s not connected to the internet, but it was his. A connection to the outside, a place for him to look up what meager things he needed during his pregnancy. 

For the first time since he left, he’s beginning to miss that object.

“Are you the account owner? I can help you get a new one,” Ximena gives him his kiss to the forehead before standing up.

“I am,” Viktor says with a little bit of pride, it was the one thing that was his and only his after Hector began to take away pieces of him, “When I begin working, I’ll take you up on that offer.”

Ximena takes one final look at Jayce and Bronte on the floor, she watches as her heart melts. She knows that babies do not fix situations or relationships, but something within her feels that Bronte had given Jayce a purpose that was larger than himself. Perhaps, she wonders, if it’s just her maternal instincts, her yearning for grandchildren and finding one in Bronte or if it’s seeing her son happy.

The pendulum swings, Ximena looks from her son up to the clock hoping that one day Jayce might actually sit down and fix it. Before she bids them goodbye and heads back home.

Jayce slinks down onto the floor to lay beside Bronte, his hand falling onto her as he checks on her. She fusses a little and lifts her head up, but they both want her to build her neck muscles.

“Zlaticko,” Viktor lowers himself from the couch to lay down on the other side of Bronte, he lays on his better hip, his better leg, the pain is increasing, “You don’t want a flat head, Jayce might use it to write his notes.”

Jayce laughs, “I would never. Someone’s back? Sure, but a baby’s head? That’s evil.”

“A surface to sign,” Viktor says with a smile.

“While I can get away with holding Bronte,” Viktor puts his hand gently in front of her, letting her grab it, “for now at least… she’s already grown so much… I’m not sure how much furniture I can lift yet.”

“Got a friend or two who can help with that, now…” Jayce rolls over to grab a sketchbook on the table before rolling back to Bronte and Viktor, “We need to plan out this nursery!”

The sketchbook has a pencil in its binding, hiding from the world but waiting to be useful, Jayce takes it out and opens to a fresh page. The book lies incredibly flat, easy for Jayce to sketch upstairs. He’s quick to draw the floor plan and label it before pushing it over to Viktor.

The only things he labeled were the things that wouldn’t move; the fan, the outlets, the closet, windows, and door. The dimensions are down like he has them memorized, he’d measured them when he first thought of the idea.

“Now I’ll take everything out of the room and we can move things around as we see fit, my bedroom-” he looks over to Viktor, “Our bedroom,” he’s not sure why, but he feels his face turning red, “That’ll be easier to see in person. I don’t have much in there and have plenty of space for your things.”

“I don’t have things , Jayce,” Viktor whispers, “You know what I came into the house with.”

“Viktor,” Jayce’s jaw tightens because he knows the question he’s about to ask is incredibly difficult, “Are there things you want to go back for?”

“I’d rather die,” Viktor doesn’t snap, but he says it with an emotion that Jayce hadn’t heard before, “I would die, if I went back there. Absolutely not, I can not, I will not.”

“I’m not…let me rephrase this, are there things at Hector’s place that you want, need or think about?”

“Most things can be replaced,” Viktor says sternly, but his own heart can only take so much.

There are things that are irreplaceable in that apartment.

Evidence that his parents existed; wedding rings, birth and death certificates, a few photos. Evidence that he himself had a childhood; a salamander stuffy named Rio, his diplomas and medical records. Proof that he had a family at one point, that he was well loved and happy before his life had been dedicated to someone so abusive.

Thinking of these things is what made it painful, if he buried them deep within his heart they wouldn’t hurt, at least until someone dug them back up. Viktor swallows hard, the artifacts of the dead are not worth the lives of the living. 

Right?

“Not what I’m asking,” Jayce flips to the back of his journal and rips out a sheet of paper, “Are there things you want, need, or think about?” Jayce places the paper down in front of Bronte before sliding it over to be in front of Viktor, “Just think about it, okay? I’m sure you miss your phone, maybe another cane? Your diploma?”

“Why make a list?” Viktor takes the paper in front of him, only for Jayce to slide another pencil over, “so I can reflect on what I’ve lost?”

“Well no, I’d go get it for you,” Jayce looks down to the sketch book, realizing that he had derailed their initial conversation about making the nursery to something a little darker. Just like Viktor’s ability to catch him off guard, Jayce is incredible at changing conversation on a whim.

“ You? ” Viktor says slowly, “He’s dangerous.”

“I wouldn’t go alone,” Jayce reaches his hand out to Viktor, he can feel him starting to spiral, “You won’t let me buy you new things but you don’t want your old things either.”

“I want my old things,” Viktor is clear, “But you aren’t listening to me, Jayce. It’s not worth the risk, I don’t want you or your friends to get hurt.”

“What if I promised I wouldn’t get hurt?” Jayce scoots closer, “And gave myself a time limit, plus you’d probably have someone here with you with a phone so you can check in.”

“I’ll think about it,” Viktor says a little softer now, his jaw tightens a little bit, he’s angry that Jayce is so persistent about it.

Viktor doesn’t understand why it matters so much to Jayce, why he insists on this; it’s not stupidity but it certainly is an unmatched confidence he wishes he had. Knowing that he won’t let up, Viktor grabs the piece of paper, folds it up, and slides it into his pocket. He doesn’t want to risk Jayce and his friends' safety, no matter what was left behind.

It’s not worth it, he reminds himself.

But his heart wishes to have photos to show Bronte of her grandparents, and wishes he had the rings that they had promised each other when they got married. And despite being in his late twenties, Viktor longs to cuddle up with his stuffed Rio. He wonders if it has his pup scent on it, if it’s clean enough for Bronte to love. 

And those things exclude the things that were left behind, his leg brace, his other cane, his testosterone. Maybe he’ll write the list, hide it away for another time and see if he still longs for it. These things aren’t worth Jayce getting hurt.

There’s an awkward tension between the two of them, it’s thick and uncomfortable. It makes Viktor want to crawl out of his skin, he doesn’t want to upset Jayce and he doesn’t want to upset himself. His jaw tenses all the more, he wants to bite at his inner cheek or tongue, but he knows that would do nothing but make him bleed.

Jayce wouldn’t want that either.

Slowly Jayce pushes the sketch book closer to Viktor, the pencil placed on top of it as he smiles sheepishly. It’s a peace offering that Viktor takes quickly, he wants to imagine what life would be like moving forward.

When Jayce offered the sketchbook, he was afraid that Viktor would close it and leave. Hearing how quiet Viktor got when he was clearly upset made him feel guilty, but they were conversations he felt needed to be done. Jayce knows there are things that Viktor wants, that have been his for years and he deserves to have them.

Jayce is reminded again of the ways that Viktor expresses himself, not by raising his voice but its softness. It’s not the same as when he speaks gently with Bronte, at those times his eyes are full and sparkle, right now they narrow and look at him with displeasure. 

“Do you think she would prefer a light blue or a light green?” Viktor sighs, picking up the pencil and placing the tip to the paper.

Relief covers Jayce like a thin blanket, he knows Viktor’s feelings haven’t suddenly disappeared, “What do you imagine?”

“Base of a soft blue, with bits of pink and green to break up the blank wall,” Viktor starts as he sketches a few patterns in the freespace on the side, “Pastel, nothing too busy, but something hand painted.”

“I like it!” Jayce smiles as he scoots himself and Bronte closer, he watches Viktor’s hand writing, he notices how it’s different from his as he writes down the paint colors, “What else?”

“Crib could go here, it can be white,” Viktor sketches a place where it would be, “A changing table…but with a railing, I don’t want her to roll off.”

The three of them lay together as they talked about their plan, where a dresser will go, how Jayce plans to build her a bookshelf that’s safely attached to the wall. A space where a desk will go as she gets older, so many plans for an uncertain future.

“Alright, I’ll call some friends over and we can get things movin’! Tomorrow we can start painting and take it from there,” Jayce pushes himself to his knees, hand going to his pocket as he takes out his cell phone, “There are some things we can order online, but we can build many of these things too!”

As Viktor pushes himself up slowly, he’s met by a sharp pain at his hip, it’s a familiar pain that he breathes through, thankful that Jayce has looked away. Sitting up he looks down at his legs, his right leg tilts inward along with his foot. The pain is getting worse each day, the weight is making his bones and joints ache and strain his back.

He needs his brace but he can’t ask Jayce for that. They are expensive, they take a doctor's appointment, they take up Jayce’s time and money. The one at Hector's wasn’t perfect, but it would get him through the day, yet it’s just another thing that he can’t ask Jayce for.

Not doing anything will lead to consequences.

Viktor spirals in silence, his eyes unwavering from his leg, he doesn’t realize that Bronte has begun to cry beside him, all he does is stare. Stare and engrave the twist of his leg into his mind, the harsh words of Hector again drilling so deep into his head. 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t gone without his brace before, Viktor justifies, Hector had taken it away on more than one occasion, along with his cane. He’d been forced to crawl, he’d been dragged across the floor. He’s fallen so far into himself, but a soft rapping hit his side, shaking him out of it.

“Bunny,” Viktor remains sitting, picking her up to soothe her, “It’s time for your nap isn’t it? Táta lost track of time, but it’s for something good. You are going to have your own room, you’ll have to trust our design choices for now.” 

His eyes drift to the broken clock, he really needs to fix that for Jayce, even if it’s only temporary. Carefully, Viktor pulls himself and Bronte onto the couch, she has gotten significantly heavier and his leg is starting to shake just from the brief moment of lifting her up. He inhales sharply, grabs his cane, and tests the waters before picking her up.

If the weakness or pain gets worse, Viktor wouldn’t risk carrying Bronte, but right now, he was able to manage. He shifts his weight as he holds her, leaning more on his cane than normal, he’s in pain, but she’s secure and safe. The cot is nearby, right in the living room, he wishes that it was in his bedroom and he wonders if they could have a few nights like that once everything is settled.

The three of them sleep in one bedroom, maybe even curled up in bed together, in Viktor’s first successful nest. The room would smell like home, Bronte wouldn’t remember it, but it would be something that Viktor could cherish for years to come.

Not long after Jayce makes his phone call, there is a knock at the door, Jayce opens the door to let them in while Viktor is sitting at the kitchen table. His hair is partially pulled back but he’s twirling a lock of his hair that’s free, Jayce had made a quick sketch of a crib that he could start building Bronte. It’s a fantastic concept, but Viktor needs to google safety requirements for cribs before he tells Jayce to go ahead and make it, plus he wants to make a few personalized tweaks. 

Viktor can feel them before he can see them, his hair raises on the back of his neck as goosebumps spread over his body. The two guests are two bonded alphas, but their bond doesn’t make him react any less. There’s a brief moment where he thinks he should bow his head down or go hide before he buries it down.

Most Alphas don’t assert themselves over omegas in a modern society and Viktor knew that Jayce wouldn’t associate himself with people like that. He was in the safety of a new home, with a caring friend and his own baby, these strangers were not going to hurt him.

This is what he imagined in the backyard, people coming over and becoming comfortable with other people again. Tomorrow they were going to shop for paint and maybe some crafting supplies, he needed to prepare himself for this.

Their introduction is quick and painless, though Viktor feels a sense of familiarity with meeting Vi. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but he feels he might have crossed paths with her in Zaun. He doesn’t mention it, instead smiling at them in greeting before reaching his hand out to shake them. Omega’s don’t greet alphas with the scent gland on their wrist, that was for other omegas and whoever their partners were. 

“So you’re the one who made ‘pretty boy’ a dad, huh?” Vi laughs, pointing towards Jayce with her thumb, she’s giving him a hard time, but it nearly sends Viktor into cardiac arrest.

“What? Dad?” Viktor blinks the stars away from his eyes before shaking his head, “No I…”

Viktor was fully aware that Jayce was taking a fatherly role in his relationship with Bronte, their scent bond was all the proof someone needed. The idea of actually calling him dad made his heart flutter, it brought them closer together, it made this group of three officially a family. 

Táta and dad, Táta and dadda, mama didn’t sound as abrasive if Dada was Jayce, because Jayce hadn’t made him feel any less of a man.

“I’m just messin’ around,” Vi laughs before she gives Jayce a little nudge, he had gone silent just as Viktor had.

“It’s nice to meet you Viktor,” Caitlyn saves the conversation with a grin, “I’m happy to finally meet you, also happy that someone is going to help keep this one in check,” her eyes flicker to Jayce.

“Sprout, I don’t need a babysitter,” Jayce attempts to defend himself.

“When we were younger, he’d babysit me but in reality I was making sure he wasn’t blowing anything up or hurting himself,” Caitlyn grins, “That didn’t stop me from helping once in a while though.”

Viktor watches the conversation at hand, picking up on the fact that they had known each other since childhood. A life long friendship sounded beautiful and if he reflected on himself, he could only think of one person who had given him a chance in their youth. Sky Young, a brilliant mind who grew alongside him, only for them to separate in college. 

He doesn’t feel envious this time around, he remembers that this is his life now. That Jayce’s friends could potentially become his as well, that they could sit around and have a conversation filled with laughter. Where Viktor can take up space, be involved and not locked away in another room.

You’re a liability, Hector had told him as he shut the door, It’s for your own good, you know? These alphas are all horny as hell.

But the door locks from the outside, Viktor had once argued back, Anyone can come in at any time.

Hector laughed and walked away.

One time, Hector didn’t lock the door and Viktor left the room to get water from the kitchen. It was here that Hector instilled the fear of alphas into Viktor, allowing his friends to act inhumane and chase him, as though to teach him a lesson.

Viktor went back to the bedroom without his water, with his clothing ripped and new bruises to tend to. That was the last time he ventured out, whether Hector left the door open or not. Isolation had been Hector’s favorite type of abuse.

“Bronte is sleeping right now,” Viktor says, involving himself into the conversation, “But when she’s awake, you can meet her.”

“Hell yeah,” Vi’s grin is crooked, “Babies love me.”

Caitlyn furrows her brow, “Do you know any babies?”

“Personally, no. But they look at me and smile in the grocery store.”

The banter begins to shift upstairs as Jayce, Caitlyn, and Vi begin to move the furniture around. Viktor takes this moment to take his meager belongings from the guest room up to Jayce’s-theirs. His heart races just a little as he pushes the door open to reveal blue walls covered in posters. Jayce’s scent is the strongest here, it calms the pounding of his heart as he steps in fully. The room is a mess from the night before, the sheets had been stripped from the bed and clothes had been thrown about as he tried to gather nesting supplies. 

It only takes Viktor two trips to bring everything he owns upstairs before he explores the other areas of the second floor. There’s a bathroom attached to their room and a second one that’s covered in dust, everything works but Viktor quickly realizes that Jayce doesn’t have crowds of people entering his house.

Plus, he had been living alone before this, why would he use multiple bathrooms?

He continues to explore, there’s a storage room that’s larger than Viktor’s bedroom at Hector’s apartment. It’s impressive, what a good paying job can get you, Viktor hopes that he’ll be hired quickly wherever he does end up so he can take over some responsibilities here. 

The final room is large and has a broken door hinge, it’s overused but judging by how the paint scrapes away from the wood nearby, Jayce doesn’t plan on fixing it. Viktor tells himself that while they are out getting paint, maybe he can convince Jayce to pick up a hinge. He wouldn’t mind installing it himself, a thank you for everything Jayce has done.

Pushing open the door Viktor steps in, this is the largest room in the entire house, taking up the rest of the floor. There are projects everywhere , boards with blueprints written on them along with a parchment paper, it’s truly the house of an inventor. Viktor steps in to see a second cane design, the top is red and gold reflective of the Talis T that falls on patents and products.

Bronte will grow up knowing of Jayce’s lineage, his family’s legacy, but not a single part of Viktors other than what he says by mouth. There will be no proof, no relics or artifacts that can be passed down and when Viktor dies, all she’ll have are pictures of him since her birth.

Stepping into the room Viktor sits down at Jayce’s work desk and takes out the folded piece of paper that Jayce gave him, with a defeated sigh he begins to write.

Lock box under the bed

Testosterone (bedside table)

Old cell phone (likely the floor)

There are other things he could right down including his other cane, his brace, and clothing but those things are not as important. If Jayce were to go into Hector’s apartment, he’d want him in and out as quickly as possible. These three things take up little space and would allow Jayce to be quick.

It’s hard, but he writes down Hector’s address.

The place where he used to reside but never felt like home, a place that felt more like a cage than anything else. Breathing gets a little harder as he thinks about the place, the doorway in and out, the way the floor creaks under the step and pressure of his cane. 

There had been an internal struggle when Viktor was forced to turn down all the jobs he applied for, because he was fully ready to be the breadwinner. To make money to move them to a better place in Zaun, because there were better places to live in Zaun. He used to wonder why Hector would keep them there, because the polluted air wasn’t doing either of them favors.

“I can make space for you in here too,” Jayce’s voice comes from the doorway, “Not sure if that’s your thing, I can give you a chair and some board space.”

Jayce’s body has a bit of sweat on it, there wasn’t much furniture that needed to be moved but there is nothing easy about lifting large pieces of furniture. Everything went into the storage room, a problem for them to solve later if they wanted to transform that into an office. Jayce didn’t care either way, if he wanted to work in an office he’d just show up to work.

They’d gotten most everything out pretty quickly, the time it took Viktor to settle himself and explore the second floor was just enough time for the three of them to empty the room. Viktor is impressed that Bronte is still asleep despite the thumping upstairs, Ximena and Jayce had made a point to train her to sleep through the loud sounds.

While Viktor’s ideal place to work would be in a lab, working in a workshop didn’t sound half bad either. He could use the space to build things for themselves or even dive into his joy of biomedical studies. There are things he had researched deeply in college that he’d love to get back into. 

“I’d like that,” he doesn’t find himself turning down the idea, he answers it with confidence.

Taking up space is nerve wrecking, but it’s nothing that he can’t work through. Getting up from the seat he walks over to Jayce, his limp a little more pronounced but he plays it off.

Viktor hands Jayce the list, “I also…wrote down some things. There are pictures of my parents in there and I’d like to show Bronte pictures of them one day.”

Jayce takes the list from him and takes a look, he’s not surprised that the list is so small and fully plans to grab whatever he can of Viktor’s while he’s there. Nodding a bit he leaves the doorway and heads into the office, leaning on his arm he peaks in to see the two women chatting.

“Vi, you know how to get to this address?” Jayce reads it off to her and Viktor follows behind him.

“Yeah, that’s right by the Lanes,” Vi walks over, lifting her chin up a little bit as she makes eye contact with Jayce, “Are we going to beat some ass?”

Viktor’s fight or flight activates, his hand reaches forward to grab onto Jayce’s arm and snatch the list back, “No no, that’s not what I want.”

“I’m kidding,” Vi puts her hand up, “I swear, I know the plan.”

Jayce lowers his hand a bit, looking to Viktor, “Two hours tops, Caitlyn will be here with you and Vi will update as needed. Alright?”

“This is going to happen now?” 

“The sooner it gets done, the sooner you can put it behind you,” Vi crosses her arms with a smile, “Cupcake wouldn’t let me go if she didn’t know I could do this.”

And before Viktor could persist any more, before he had the chance to change his mind, Vi and Jayce each had an empty box and were heading downstairs. Caitlyn leads the way, followed by Vi and Jayce, Viktor is at the end of the line moving quickly as he begins to reconsider the decision he’s made. 

“Wait, maybe I should go,” Viktor stumbles over his words now, it feels like he’s in a car speeding off a cliff, “Or tomorrow? Maybe tomorrow.”

Jayce stops, he can feel Viktor’s anxiety seconds before he can smell it. Turning around he gently puts his hand on the side of Viktor’s face, making sure he knows his hand is there before he slides it to the back of Viktor’s head. His hand sits there for a moment before he leans in, slowly before he places his face directly onto Viktor’s healing scent gland, he releases his own scent in short gentle bursts.

Viktor’s pupils dilate, he’s not sure if he’s frustrated that Jayce did this or if he’s thankful that he didn’t leave him alone on the brink of a panic attack. After a moment, Jayce pulls back his hand, shifting to twirl Viktor’s hair between his fingers.

“It’s going to be okay,” Jayce’s other arm goes to Viktor’s lower back, “We’ll be back in two hours.”

“Be safe.”

Notes:

Jayce and Viktor meeting on the bridge by Tayyellowsugar: https://x.com/TayARMY22/status/1921942198116831519
"Do you want her" scene from Chapter 2 by Ames: https://x.com/corkyno/status/1927010865380819163
Jayce & Bronte by Kotamadaa: https://x.com/kotamadaa/status/1927535590192316912
Adult Diapers by Nam: https://x.com/A_L_I_E_N_xdxd/status/1927843869745631281
Jayce with Bronte (when she's a little older): https://x.com/A_L_I_E_N_xdxd/status/1934470239154024684

Chapter 9: Hector

Notes:

TW: Vomit, piss, mentions of sexual assault/abuse

 

Remember, this is only the first meeting of Hector!! 👀 I hope you hate him as much as I do.

(Heads up, I will be at a convention next weekend, I’ll try to post but we will see!)

“So you aren’t dating him?” Vi is in the driver seat, insisting that taking Jayce’s fancy car would be memorable if Hector was home.

“I’m not-”

“Then what the hell was that?” Vi snorts, looking over to him before she turns back to the road, “Like, way to take in someone who’s in need but you straight up scented him before we left.”

Jayce is tired of explaining this to everyone so he rolls his eyes, “Let’s focus on the task at hand, okay? You can quiz me later.”

Vi knew the streets of Zaun like the back of her hand, she could navigate through a majority of the city with her eyes closed. That wasn’t the only reason why Jayce picked her to come along, she was always ready to step in and defend those she cared about and was an excellent lock picker. 

She also was one of the few friends that Jayce had a healthy friendship with. Vi relents, putting her eyes on the road as Jayce gives her the few bits of information about Hector that he knows, he’s holding Viktor’s list carefully, as though he was holding his thin fingers. Everyone hopes that he’s not home, that he’s out somewhere or on a bender, that they can break in, get what Viktor requested and go.

A sense of dread is lingering over Jayce, he knows this isn’t going to be easy and he’s certain that with their luck Hector will be there. 

They pull up to a brick apartment complex on a street where many of the windows are boarded off. People don’t look at either of them and continue walking or doing what needs to be done, a few kids are skateboarding down the sidewalk, looking at Jayce briefly before laughing. He looks down to himself before realizing he should have changed into something without brand names on it, he stuck out like a sore thumb even in his casual clothes.

Vi snickers as the kids skateboard by, she nudges past Jayce before she heads up to the door. Someone must have run out for a quick errand, because there is a wooden block blocking the door from closing. Vi shrugs before leading Jayce inside, each with a box under their arm, as they quickly find the right apartment. Jayce notices that despite the building having peeling wallpaper, it has a wheelchair ramp and a small elevator to the side.

At the door Jayce lifts his hand up to knock and Vi catches his arm, “What are you doing?”

“Knocking on the door?” Jayce keeps his arm in place, looking slightly confused at Vi.

“I can just open the door?” Vi looks just as confused as Jayce.

“Won’t that be robbery? If we just break in and take stuff?” Jayce speaks in a harsh whisper.

“What are you going to knock, say ‘ I’m here for your ex’s things’ and expect him to be like ‘ sure buddy, come right on in’ ?” Vi snaps back.

“Well then we go in anyway and get his stuff.”

“And that makes it not robbery?” Vi is intrigued by his logic but also doesn’t care too much about how they get in, just that they get in and get the job done.

“It’s Viktor's stuff anyway!” Jayce whispers harshly, “We are just getting things that belong to Viktor, it’s not robbery it’s a return service.”

Just as Jayce’s fist goes to make contact with the door, it opens just a bit. Patchouli and smoke rolls out from the tiny crack in the door, it’s overwhelming and thick, but that’s all it smells like. There isn’t a hint of Viktor there, his scent erased from the front door of his old home already.

Hector is around Jayce’s height but with a medium build. His eyes would have been considered striking in their purple color, if they hadn’t been surrounded by blood shot scleras. Before Jayce can say anything, Hector smirks, flashing a fang right off the bat as he opens the door even wider to reveal himself fully.

His hair is long and dark with frosted tips that had long been neglected after he had gotten what he wanted. Vi snarls almost instantly when she sees that it’s haphazardly placed into the greasiest man bun she had ever seen.

Hunting Viktor, containing him, and training him allowed Hector to recognize the slightest hint of his pheromones near him, it was how he found him. This man before him, however, was soaked in Viktor’s scent, making Hector’s mouth water.

But he has an idea of why they are here, so he takes a step back and lets them in without question. He doesn’t need this to be difficult, but he certainly won't make it easy. The apartment is disgusting, mold and dust are the most prominent smells when he steps into the combination of the living room and the kitchen. It’s small, made smaller by the trash that has been thrown around.

“Picking up Viktor’s things I presume?” Hector closes the door behind them, crossing his arms as he looks them up and down. He can tell Jayce comes from money and he’s sure he’s seen Vi drunk in a bar once or twice.

“We won’t be long,” Jayce is trying to keep his composure, to be careful and safe like Viktor wanted, “Just grabbing some things and going.”

Both Vi and Jayce feel the air that Hector puts on, how high he lifts his chin and how he holds himself. Despite being a degenerate, he seems to talk and flaunt himself as though nothing could bother him, nothing could touch him. He’s pompous but has no reason to be, it’s either an act or just part of his character.

Jayce wonders how Viktor even fell for this guy, he had to have started completely different than he was now. A masterful manipulator at the start only to give up the act when he thought he had Viktor trapped.

“Sure sure,” Hector nods, his hand going to the patchy facial hair on his chin and jaw, “You reek of that slut, is he dead? Or is he hospitalized someplace?”

Jayce’s fists tighten, but he keeps his composure, “We are just here for his stuff.” 

“Slut?” Vi scoffs, “Are those not condom wrappers on the floor?”

“What am I to do when my omega leaves me?” Hector lights up a cigarette and places it between his lips, the room fills with smoke, “Alphas gotta fuck, you get it.”

“No, I don’t,” Vi and Jayce say at the exact same time, Jayce’s glare was getting harder to hide.

“The room's back that way,” Hector points with his head, “It smells a bit though, didn’t clean before he left.”

Vi looks at Hector with disgust and it just keeps getting worse. She didn’t know that Viktor had given birth in that room so she didn’t understand just how hard that comment hit. Instead, Vi was more focused on his hypocrisy, the fact the room was a mess, that it smelled in itself, and he was complaining about a bedroom. She had lived in a depressive mess before, she understood what it was like to be disorganized and cluttered, but this was different.

This was Hector's lifestyle.

Jayce had yet to experience true evil in his life, but as he listens to the venom from Hector’s mouth he realizes this is it. Viktor gave birth in that room, alone and scared, while Hector was god knows where. He says nothing, digs his nails into the palm of his hand and starts past him as Vi leads the way.

“You know,” Hector steps closer, blowing smoke into Jayce’s face, his eyes are sharp and purple, “He likes it when you grab the back of his neck…and shove his face into the mattress when you fuck him.”

The singular thread that was holding Jayce together is severed, he drops the box under his arm and swings his fist fast and hard. It makes direct contact with Hector’s cheek bone, the crack of his fist makes Vi’s eyes widen, stepping forward as she expects Hector to retaliate, thinking that that was all Jayce had in him.

She was wrong, Hector doesn’t retaliate, he smiles wide as though he enjoys it.

Jayce’s body follows his fist as he pushes Hector’s back against the wall, knocking that cigarette out of his hand and onto the floor. He grabs his collar and slams him against the wall, he’s seething and his fangs drop. Warmth fills his body as rage boils within his veins, ready to burst to find a way out.

The punch doesn’t seem to phase Hector much, because he laughs as he makes direct eye contact with Jayce, “If he’s too loose shove his face against the floor, a few hits never failed to tighten him up,” Jayce lifts him off his feet, but he doesn’t stop, “Scare him a bit, God he loved it. He’d bleed a bit, but it was so fucking tight, only time he was perfect.”

Something in Jayce breaks, Viktor didn’t love any of that, he was terrified. The pain and suffering he went through shouldn’t be spread through the air to random people either, Hector makes him physically sick. Pulling his fist back again, he hits Hector so hard that his head bounces off the wall but it doesn’t stop his laughter. Jayce hits him again before there is silence, he’s ready to hit him again before Vi grabs onto his hand.

“Fuck yeah,” Vi laughs, “That was awesome.”

“Fuck,” Jayce drops him, letting Hector’s body slide down the wall, “Fuck.”

Jayce was nearly blinded by rage, consumed with the hate to just beat him into a pile of meat, but Vi yanked him out of it. His hand hurts but he doesn’t look at it, instead shaking it off before looking at Vi. He wants to feel pride for what he’s done, to feel joy for making Hector bleed.

But he doesn’t, it’s not enough. It’s not justice, it’s not repentance or equal to what he’s done to Viktor. He’s torn, because he wants to kill him but he also doesn’t want to spiral them into a muddled future.

“Don’t worry,” Vi kicks at Hector while he’s knocked out, “He won’t do shit cause the cops in Zaun don’t do shit, last thing they’d believe is you of all people did this.”

That’s not what Jayce is worried about though, he’s not worried about being found out for hitting him. He’s irate about the fact that this disgusting man exists, that he’s allowed to rot in this shitty apartment when he should be in jail, locked away so he can never hurt Viktor again.

“You are the last person I’d expect to stop me,” Jayce admits, chest lifting and falling with the adrenaline rush, “Why?”

Vi laughs before carrying her box to the back room, “You killing someone? I feel that would fuck you up.”

Jayce follows after her, picking up the box that he dropped before looking back to Hector once more. What she says weighs on his mind for a moment because he truly doesn’t think he’d feel remorse if he killed Hector, if anything, he’d be more worried about leaving Viktor to deal with the aftermath alone if he was thrown in jail.

An innocent person would tear him up inside, but vermin like Hector? He didn’t care.

When they reach the door, Jayce notices that there are two different locks on the outside of the door and markings that one had been moved. His heart drops into his stomach as he steps in and turns on the light, he sees the scratch marks on the other side of the door, old broken nails trapped in the wood. Proof of Viktor’s fighting to get out.

Vi makes a sound of disgust, “Damn. Maybe we should kill him…”

It doesn’t smell like Hector in here, but it barely smells like Viktor. It's muted and overshadowed by mold and dust. Jayce’s eyes scan the floor, there’s a spot where a sheet had been pulled off the bed, he can see evidence of Viktor trying to clean with limited supplies.

Limited supplies and energy, dying and not even knowing it.

The sheets have blood on them, enough for Jayce to know that Bronte had been born here. Before Vi can notice, Jayce steps forward and kicks them under the bed, it’s something too vulnerable and too personal.

Vi has already started pulling clothes from drawers, shoving them into the box she brought as she leaves the most important things to Jayce. Vi doesn’t need to worry about having to run back down for another box, because Viktor's meager possessions all fit in these two. But Jayce can only stand there for a moment and look around the room.

The boarded windows, the holes in the wall, that this room was cleaner than the one they walked through. These walls could talk and Jayce would listen intently if he had the time, but he knew they would only tell stories that broke his heart. He didn’t need to know about every terrible thing that happened to Viktor, he’d only take whatever Viktor wanted to share. Standing in this room, though, felt like he had entered a private space with stories to tell.

He shakes himself out of it and puts the box down, dropping down on his hands and knees to first grab the lock box. It’s not that big but fits at the bottom of the box, he hopes that Viktor finds peace with it back in his possession.

The list is simple and it’s his main focus before he grabs anything else, while on his knees he finds the cell phone. The screen is broken and the battery is dead, he tosses it into the box and figures they’d find a charger later.

Standing up he looks to the bedside table and sees the package of prenatal gummies, he picks them up tenderly. It’s almost enough to break him but he swallows it back and takes it with, he knows Viktor doesn’t need it, but Hector doesn’t deserve to have it.

Opening the drawer he finds the testosterone, Viktor’s intentions are to take it when he’s done breast feeding but again, he just doesn’t want Hector to have something so personal to him. As he places the bottles and syringes into the box he looks back to the drawer to confirm it’s empty.

Shoved deep in the back is a piece of photopaper, curious Jayce pulls it out. It’s Bronte’s ultrasound photos, it hadn’t been on the list, Viktor must have thought that it was in the lock box. Carefully, he places that into the box before he starts looking around for anything else.

His eyes fall upon a back up cane, which he grabs and plans to carry down the stairs, but then he sees a leg brace. Goosebumps form on his skin, the hair on the back of his head stands up and the pendulum picks up at a manic speed.

The brace is partially broken and the quality isn’t high, but it’s something that looked well worn, like something that Viktor should have written on the list. Jayce puts it by the box, knowing it’s something that he’ll have to carry on his arm when they head down. He continues packing things up almost robotically, his mind is racing.

Viktor’s been limping, hasn’t he? His balance had been off lately, he even was massaging and stretching out his leg more than he’d seen before.

Why didn’t Viktor say anything?

It’s when everything is gathered and the two are standing and looking over the room one final time when Hector awakens. Lunging from behind he wraps his arms around Jayce, forcing his face into his skin as he laughs.

“Just wanted to smell him one more time!” He cackles, rubbing his face against Jayce.

Vi grabs him and wrestles him to the floor, he fights back this time, thrashing around with a switchblade. Vi is too skilled to get hit and quickly subdues him on the floor. Jayce moves quickly to take the knife from his hand while Vi keeps him pinned down.

“You’ll never get that chance again!” Jayce shouts, pulling his leg back and giving Hector a swift kick to the side, “Fucker.”

“Stop it, it hurts,” Hector says, changing his voice and accent to mock Viktor, “It hurts~”

That’s when Jayce stops, because the last thing he wants is to be reflective of that. Jayce wants to smash his face in, to shut him up and give him what he deserves, but not when he’s mocking Viktor. It should fuel him, make him even madder, but for some reason he freezes. Vi, on the other hand, doesn’t care. She has only just met Viktor but can feel the injustice, the hatred, and evil radiating from this man.

Her friends are important to her, nearly family, so Viktor and Bronte have already made it on her list of things to protect. Plus, anyone else who has shared the struggle of poverty while also relishing in the power of community, could have a semblance of understanding of what family means to her.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” the force in which she hits Hector shuts him up instantly, blood drips from his nose and she’s confident she knocked a few teeth out, her chest raises and falls as she breathes.

Jayce stands there, angry and disgusted, he feels Hector's breath against his neck, his arms around him. He’s a disgusting creature that he hopes to never see again.

“We are almost at two hours,” Vi states as she gets up and grabs onto the box, “This is everything, let’s go.”

“Okay.”

“Wait,” Vi puts the box back down for a moment before she runs down the hall, coming back with her arms full of toilet paper, “He can get a crusty ass too.”

It was hilarious, but Jayce doesn’t laugh, he picks up his box, Viktor’s brace and cane and starts heading down the stairs as Vi follows after. He has run into conflict before, but nothing like this, his skin is crawling and he keeps asking himself.

Why didn’t Viktor tell me? I have the money to buy one, I could make one.

Vi can tell something is wrong because Jayce hasn’t said a word the entire way back despite her talking consistently. She tries to get him to respond, thinking that he’s upset about what he did, that he’s worried about getting in trouble. So Vi reassures him that the police aren’t going to be called because no one would believe him, that Hector probably doesn’t know who he is in the first place because he dwells in alleyways, and he’s done worse so the police wouldn’t care. 

When there is still no response she lets the silence fill the air until they pull into the driveway where Jayce finally speaks.

“He has a leg brace, ” Jayce spits, his hands gripping onto his pants, “He needs it.”

Jayce’s adrenaline is through the roof, he had punched a man who purposefully tried to rile him up and then he found all the things that Viktor didn’t ask for. Of the list of things that were important, Viktor should have added his leg brace or even his cane as a back up. 

The brace isn’t a simple one either, not one that supports only the knee, it runs from his foot to his leg with multiple support points. Viktor once again neglected his own needs for someone else’s sake.

“Maybe it’s old?” Vi starts as Jayce gets out of the car and slams the door shut, “Fuck, Jayce wait!” She quickly undoes her seatbelt, shuts the door and is running after him. “Hey!”

Jayce opens the front door so hard that it slams against the wall, causing Caitlyn and Viktor to jump in the living room.

Viktor was sitting on the couch while Caitlyn was playing with Bronte on the floor. That had been their two hours, the two of them talking and watching over Bronte. Caitlyn admires that Viktor seems to parent her so naturally despite Viktor not seeing it himself. They keep their minds off of it and whenever Viktor questions their safety, Caitlyn assures him that it’ll be fine.

Doubt washes over them both, as the front door slams open followed by a commotion. Caitlyn picks up Bronte and puts her back into the crib as Viktor quickly gets up, assuming the worst case scenario had happened. His heart is in his throat, he wonders who’s at the door- if it’s Jayce, Hector, or even the police.

But he hears Vi and Jayce, but their voices are raised.

“Jayce? Are you alright?” Viktor starts towards Jayce, concerned he’s hurt.

That’s when he sees it, a manic and unfamiliar look in his eyes before the smell of sulfur hits him like a truck. Viktor’s body locks up as he’s overwhelmed by the scent of Hector as Jayce grabs his arms.

“You have a leg brace?” Jayce is fuming and Viktor can feel it, so much so that his body goes numb, “Why didn’t you tell me? That’s dangerous!”

Jayce is no longer standing before him, it’s no longer his hands holding onto him nor his scent that’s infiltrating his nostrils. It’s Hector, all Hector. The miasma that makes it difficult to breathe, the fury that he exudes. Viktor has done something wrong , he’s terrified beyond reason.

As the fear grips at his throat, Viktor’s body lets go. Urine trickles down his leg, waking him from his stupor as he looks down, his breathing growing steady as the fear turns into complete and utter panic. He’d made a mistake.

“I’m sorry,” Viktor’s looking down, eyes wide but unseeing as humiliation mixes in with his fear, his panic, “I’m sorry.”

At first Jayce thinks that Viktor is apologizing for not telling him about his needs, but as he looks down he notices why Viktor is starting to fall apart in his arms. He watches as Viktor’s pants grow wet, as his body begins to tremble intensely in his hold. Jayce is speechless and confused, looking up to Viktor as his lips part to speak again.

His mind goes blank, whatever he says in the next moment wouldn’t be right, they’d be panicked and too loud.

Bronte has started crying, hard enough to redden her face, but Caityn gets up quickly as she gets in between them. She lifts her arm up, using her forearm to push Jayce backwards and away from Viktor. The room smells rotten and sulphuric.

“Get out,” Caitlyn says sternly, pushing him backwards and out of the room.

Without Jayce’s hands to support him, Viktor collapses onto the ground, his arms going to hold himself as he continues to apologize, pained gasps between each word. Everyone had smelt patchouli until the scent mingled with Viktor’s, it then morphed into what it truly was.

Vi cuts past them, ignoring the somewhat aggressive scent coming from Jayce before she drops down to the floor. She kneels in front of Viktor, this isn’t the first time she’s encountered an omega having a trauma response, her sister had a fair share of them growing up. While this isn’t her sister, she hopes that she can do what she can to calm him.

“Viktor,” Vi tries to catch his eyes, when he does she sees how far gone he is, “It’s okay.”

“No, no it’s not,” Viktor’s hand grabbed onto his head, his nails digging into his skin, “It’s disgusting, it’s dirty.”

Viktor’s afraid of the hand that’ll strike down on him, the leg that will kick directly into him or worse. Maybe Hector will shove his face into it, make him clean it up with his own clothing or hair, anything to make Viktor feel disgusting. For a moment he thinks if he hurts himself, maybe that would sway the situation, maybe then Hector wouldn’t hurt him. He’s not getting enough air and each breath he does makes him recoil.

“It’s normal, it happens,” Vi reassures him, her hand out slightly, she knows not to move too suddenly, “I’ve done it drunk, people have done it when they laugh too hard. It happens .”

Though he doesn’t look at her, he’s too far away to hear her clearly. She’s learned from Jinx how her words can be misconstrued by someone else’s internal voice, whether it be their own or not.

The void, so merciful and kind, summons him to her side.

Caitlyn pushes Jayce through the hall and out of the house, the door was left wide open when Vi followed Jayce inside, sensing something was off. A natural response has her ready to drop her own fangs, to release her own pheromones to counteract the toxic stench that sticks to Jayce’s clothing.

“Something's wrong,” Jayce shouts, his arms going out, “He needs me!”

“Not when you smell like that,” Caitlyn brings her arm back, her nose scrunching, “and certainly not until you’ve calmed down.”

“I am calm! He needs me right now, did you see that? He- he…” Jayce begins to realize what had happened, how he walked in and how he smelt.

Viktor was like this because of him , not Hector, himself.

Lifting her finger Caitlyn points at him, voice low with sharp eyes, “Shower. Cool off. Then we’ll talk. Right now, you smell like a stranger.”

Like Hector.

Jayce feels cold, his legs feel weak, he drags his hand down his face as he closes his eyes tightly. His heart is racing, the agitation turning quickly to shame. 

Why didn’t I start treatment sooner?

Why can’t my brain work right?

Why did I do that?

Caitlyn instructs Jayce to leave his clothing in the hallway, where she’ll pick them up and instantly throw them into the wash to get rid of the smell. He does so, but every limb in his body feels heavy, he’s overwhelmed by guilt and a sense of worthlessness. All of the progress they had made, he felt, had gone up in flames.

Viktor didn’t even flinch away when he had grabbed him and it killed Jayce to debate if it was because he felt safe with Jayce and longed for his touch or if he had already shut down at that point. Maybe if Jayce hadn’t come in so quickly, maybe if he hadn’t sounded so angry Viktor wouldn’t be like this now.

The water is hot, steam colliding with his gasps as he cries and presses his head against the wall of the shower. The hand that punched Hector stings and bleeds, but he doesn’t care about it. It’s a pain that he deserves for scaring Viktor.

Even Bronte cried, Jayce should have known that Hector would play dirty, that he’d purposefully use their altercation to find a way to haunt Viktor again and again. 

And Jayce let it happen.

He allowed Hector to inject himself into their home and infect it. Jayce wasn’t pushing the blame away from anyone but himself, but he knew that Hector played a part in this.

The heat increases, like a fire molting metal as he cries into the steam, scrubbing himself till parts of his body bleed. He needs to smell like himself, he needs to make that sulphuric smell vanish because he can smell it now, the facade of patchouli a calming scent hiding something rancid. He sits on the floor of the shower and scrubs, he scrubs and rinses before repeating again. It’s a violation, he feels disgusting.

He feels like omegas do, when they are scented against their will, when they are forced into relationships they don’t want to be in. When Viktor was locked in that bedroom, marinating in the thing trying to kill him tortured physically and emotionally. He feels it, though he knows it’s not the same, he’s given the semblance of it, of the pain they live with.

Jayce doesn’t know what to do, he hopes that the smell is gone and that he’ll be able to fix this because that is what he does. He builds things and fixes things, unless it has anything to do with himself, unless it bothers him and himself only. 

The fireworks behind his eyes are gone, only the sinking feeling returns and when he turns off the shower he can hear the void, how she calls to him. The pendulum tilts and hits the wall, bouncing off of it, leaving a mark behind.

As Jayce showers, Caitlyn goes about opening windows to allow the scent to leave the house, looking for candles and lighting them in the hopes that they help. Anything to make the smell go away as quickly as possible, she hopes that Viktor’s things don’t smell like that.

She remembers that Vi entered Hector’s apartment too, drops the lighter and runs back into the living room. Bronte isn’t crying anymore and Viktor and Vi are laying on the floor and talking.

He’s still apologizing, hyperventilating, he’s thrown up and keeps setting himself to spiral even deeper. Caitlyn steps closer to smell Vi, she smells like herself miraculously. Hector must have purposefully scented Jayce, knowing that it would cause chaos.

“Cupcake, can you get a warm towel?” Vi is laying on her arm, some things she has endless patience for and some things she has zero.

Caitlyn gets the wet towel, a few of them and some water, she joins the two of them by kneeling on the floor. She knows not to touch Viktor, not to manhandle him and lift him into a sitting position, she just offers the wet rag.

He takes it, but knocks over the water as he does so, he’s going to spiral again, to apologize when Vi takes the second rag and starts to clean the floor. Making it seem as though his actions were helpful, that his accident didn’t mean he had done something wrong.

Viktor settles and wipes his mouth off, his heart is still beating at an incredible speed as his body goes through waves of heat and cold. He’s uncomfortable, he wants to peel his skin off and jump into boiling water, he’s ashamed for acting like this, for soiling the first impression of Jayce’s two friends.

But he can’t get it together, his nervous system had been laying in wait for something like this, a rabbit running from a wolf. Instinctual, uncontrollable, evolved. His unsteady breathing causes his vision to blur as he lays there in his own filth, he’s sweating. 

“Jayce?” His voice is strained and breathless, “Jayce?”

Caitlyn comes back with an ice pack, placing it on the back of Viktor’s neck like Vi silently instructs her to. This can’t be good for Viktor, they’ve barely made any progress with calming him down.

Vi ends up outside the bathroom door, knocking on it, “He’s asking for you.”

“I shouldn’t…” Jayce stands in the steam of the shower, he hasn’t dried off, instead he just sits down and picks at the skin on his arms.

“He hasn’t calmed down,” Vi sighs, “And he’s saying your name, I think you need to go.”

Forcing himself up, Jayce goes into his room to get dressed before walking down to their living room. Viktor is still on the floor, Caitlyn is kneeling beside him and adjusting the ice pack.  Jayce awkwardly thanks Vi and Caitlyn, apologizes for how their day ended and lets them know he’ll update them when Viktor is feeling better. His hair is unstyled and he looks visibly depressed, the two have to convince themselves to leave, to pull out of the driveway and head back home. 

For a moment he wonders if he should call his mom back, but she just left and they hadn’t had that many days with just the two of them. Jayce is determined to try and fix this on his own.

He doesn’t care what fluids have soaked into Viktor’s clothes, he just scoops him up and sits on the couch.

Viktor shivers, clutching him desperately, he whispers, “Jayce.”

Jayce clears his throat, “I’m here.”

“Jayce.”

“It’s me, you’re safe…” 

How easy it is to choke on the word safe.

Bronte is silent, placated thanks to Vi and Caitlyn while he sits with Viktor on his lap, pulled into his chest. Viktor’s whispers fluctuate between his name and an apology he doesn’t need to give, his nervous system is struggling to steady itself.

He needs to help Viktor find a therapist, a psychiatrist, someone who can teach him, someone who can help him in ways that Jayce can't.

“I’m sorry,” Jayce’s voice cracks, tears welling his eyes as he puts his hand on Viktor’s cheek, “I’m so sorry.”

Viktor looks at him, but his eyes are unfocused. He repeats that he’s sorry, his hands clenching and unclenching awkwardly. This episode is nothing like what Jayce had seen before from Viktor, this was much more severe. Viktor knew that he couldn’t go back to Hector’s apartment, he knew that his body physically wouldn’t let him.

Jayce leans forward and presses his lips to Viktor’s forehead just as his tears stream down his cheeks, he closes his eyes tightly as he rocks Viktor, the man who’s so far gone that Jayce is afraid that he won’t be able to get him back.

Viktor is scared, he wants Jayce, but he has done something wrong.

“I’m going to scent you, okay? I don’t…I don’t smell like him anymore,” Jayce whispers, pressing his lips against Viktor’s forehead again, “I promise nothing will happen to you, you have nothing to apologize for.”

Slowly he releases his scent, slow and careful as he pulls back to see Viktor’s reaction to it. He smells like himself, but he doesn’t know if in the confusion, Viktor associated him with negativity. There’s a moment where Viktor inhales sharply, Jayce’s hands hold him steady, he’s so incredibly sorry for what happened.

Viktor releases a slow breath, the first one he’s been able to give the past hour. His shoulders drop and his fingers stop clenching and unclenching, he shuts his eyes and soaks into Jayce.

“I’m so sorry,” Jayce cries, holding him close as he cries, “I’m so sorry, baby.”

It slips out so naturally as he nuzzles his face into Viktor’s neck and hair, crying hard enough to wet Viktor’s shirt and the blonde that’s nestled under that perfect brown.

Shortly after, as the scent covers Viktor like a protective blanket, reminding him that he is in a place of safety, Viktor comes too in Jayce’s arms. His heart still beating a little too fast and he feels incredibly lightheaded. He has a sense of what happened but it’s foggy at first, the fear that initially struck him and pieces of what happened after, his fingers and toes tingle from the blood in his body flocking to his core. Jayce’s tears press against him, his shaking as he cries as though he had just died.

“I’ll clean it up,” Viktor speaks slowly, his eyes staying closed. He doesn’t look for a mess, but he knows it’s there.

Jayce hates that this is the first thing that Viktor says to him after everything, he should be upset with Jayce, he should be angry. There should be something other than offering to clean up the mess that Jayce himself caused to happen.

“No,” Jayce whispers, pulling back a bit to push hair out of Viktor’s face, “You can wash up. I-I’ll clean it, don’t worry about it okay. It’s okay.”

Jayce is trying to keep composure, his eyes scanning over Viktor’s and how red his face has become, “It’s okay,” he repeats, his voice cracking, “Please? Let me clean it.”

Viktor watches Jayce fall apart just as quickly as he did, unraveling despite trying to hold Viktor together. Yes, Viktor saw Hector in that moment and smelt him as well, but he knew that it had been Jayce. Jayce wasn’t perfect, no matter how hard he tried to be, he was flawed but still beautiful.

He was scared of Jayce at that moment but Jayce hadn’t done anything threatening, he didn’t raise his hand to Viktor or insult him. All he did was raise his voice, raise his voice and ask questions about things that Viktor himself didn’t have answers to.

Viktor doesn’t know what to say, he doesn’t know how to tell Jayce that it’s alright, he knows that he didn’t mean it when he felt that familiar sense of humiliation. 

“You didn’t know,” Viktor says, “You didn’t mean it.”

Jayce blinks tears away as he looks at Viktor with a pained expression, even if he didn’t know, he should have been careful. He should have tipped toed on the thin ice he walked on not stomped with heavy boots. Of all the times in his life he’s tried to run away from his problems, he’s never once considered turning away here, away from Viktor.

“It was…the pheromones on you,” Viktor’s thumb wipes a tear from Jayce’s face, “It’s part of why I couldn’t go back, they’re suffocating.”

“It was the scent but it also was what I did,” Jayce closes his eyes, leaning slightly into Viktor’s open palm, it still trembles against his face, “I disrupted your peace with the smell of your ex and then bombarded you.

“I was just so mad after meeting him, seeing your brace there, I just…couldn’t understand why you didn’t tell me,” Jayce admits, but in hindsight he knows why Viktor didn’t say a word, “Especially if it’s something you need.”

Viktor was sitting in his lap, his hand to his face and his body shaking looking at him with such tenderness despite coming out of a terrible attack. His progress was going to happen in baby steps and maybe that one was too much for him. Now that Jayce has met Hector, he can see why Viktor collapses into himself like the death of a star.

Jayce pulls his hand back and that’s when Viktor sees it, the bloody cuts on Jayce’s knuckles. It states that Jayce had gotten into a fight with Hector, Viktor gasps and with both hands, grabs Jayce’s hand, tilting it slightly so he can look at it.

“Jayce…” Viktor’s starting to sound serious, “Did he attack you?”

“Not successfully," Jayce admits before changing the subject, “Viktor, I got it all.”

Viktor’s brows furrow, he’s unsure what that means.

“Everything on your list, plus your clothes, your brace, and your cane. You’ll never have to go back there again, everything is in the foyer and it doesn’t smell like him.”

“I…can take up space,” is Viktor’s response.

“Yes,” Jayce chokes, smiling even though it hurts his cheeks, “Yes you can.”

“After…we clean up, I’ll put things in,” Viktor savors it before saying, “Our room.”

Jayce pulls Viktor into a tight hug, he’s relieved that Viktor has forgiven him, that he’s not scared to share a room with him. Viktor squirms in his arms, not because of Jayce’s hold but because he’s overstimulated. His body was trying to come down from an intense state only to feel the dampness in his pants.

“I have a bath tub upstairs,” Jayce suggests, “I’ll clean up down here.”

Viktor accepts this request as Jayce loosens his hold as Viktor gets off his lab. Viktor’s limbs still feel heavy, his energy expended and sways. Jayce stands to help but Viktor puts his hand out.

“I can do it,” Viktor motions for his cane, which Jayce grabs, before he very slowly makes his way up the stairs and into the bath. 

Jayce does what he promised and cleans the floor, as he does so, he imagines Viktor scrubbing at the floor in his old room. Tired from having just given birth, scared and confused about the next steps will be. Seeing the place where Viktor had lived for so long drives a nail into his heart, not because Viktor will ever go back, not because Viktor wants pity, but because of the turmoil he had gone through. 

Hector hadn’t once asked about Bronte and instantly began to antagonize them. There was no front, no pretending, but there didn’t have to be. Jayce knew what he was, a monster walking among humans. His hand stings a bit, but that doesn’t stop him from finishing up the mess in the living room. 

Soap and water, that’s all it took. 

Soap and water, a little compassion and understanding was all it took.

When everything is clean he checks on Bronte, soon she’ll have her own crib to sleep in with her own room. Jayce is excited to paint her a room, to build her furniture that he knows will last forever and be quality. 

“Jayce?” Viktor calls from the bathroom.

He hears his name, though it’s muffled through the walls that separate them. He stops admiring their Bunny Girl and grabs the baby monitor before attaching it to his hip. Jayce double checks that hers is on before he heads up the stairs and makes it to the bathroom.

Viktor wasn’t loud and Jayce isn’t sure how he heard his call from downstairs.

“Yeah?”

“Come in,” Viktor invites him in, despite being once again vulnerable.

Jayce walks in with his tail between his legs, Viktor hadn’t made any more signs that he was upset with him, just disappointed in the wound on his hand. It didn’t matter though, because any bit of disappointment from Viktor wasn’t something he’d like to maintain. He shuffles in, eyes to the ground.

“Your hand,” Viktor reaches out from the water, “Let me clean it now, do you have a first aid kit?”

The timing isn’t great, but Viktor’s desire to take care of other people always seems to override his own needs. Jayce doesn’t debate him, instead he grabs the first aid kit from under the sink and walks over, sitting down beside the bathtub.

The water goes up to just below Viktor’s chest, his breasts just barely touching the water. Viktor doesn’t hide them away and doesn’t act like they are something that needs to be anymore. Gingerly he takes Jayce’s hand and begins to clean it, his hand still trembling. 

He should have offered him something to eat and drink, but there was so much going on and so many things that needed to be done, he wasn’t sure what to do first.

He should have done a lot of things, guilt wasn’t his friend.

“You aren’t someone I imagine getting physical,” Viktor says casually as he cleans the cuts, “So I must assume…it was for good reason.”

“It was,” there was no debate about it and Jayce didn’t regret it either.

Viktor twitches his nose, looking up to Jayce knowing what he had seen, assuming what he had experienced, “I do not want your pity.”

“I know.”

“But still, you look so sad when you look at me,” Viktor looks at Jayce, “That’s saved for me when I look in the mirror or reflect on my choices.”

“You didn’t choose that…and I think the way I look at you is different than the way you look at yourself,” Jayce watches as Viktor finishes cleaning his hand and begins to bandage it, “You feel regret, you think what could have been. I see bravery and potential, I think of what could be.”

“Flowery words,” Viktor smiles softly before he sinks slightly into the tub, the warm water soothes the ache in his body, “Golden Boy.”

“Can I wash your hair? If you haven’t already.”

“I just bandaged your hand,” Viktor raises a brow as he looks at Jayce, seeing that puppy dog expression.

It’s pathetic and endearing, Viktor is a hundred percent sure that Jayce doesn’t know how incredibly hopeless he looks when he does it. His eyes say please.

“I suppose I can do it again…”

Jayce lights up a bit and goes onto his knees, he grabs his shampoo and conditioner and places it onto his hand. Viktor sits up just a little bit more, before Jayce’s large hands slide into his hair. 

Viktor closes his eyes, feels the way the suds form between Jayce’s fingers. He wouldn’t admit that his body felt so weak that he wasn’t planning on washing his hair in the first place. Either the timing was perfect or Jayce knew just how much that attack took out of him. 

Viktor melts into Jayce’s touch, how his finger nails gently scratch his scalp. As his thick fingers slide through his hair, he purrs again, gentle and serene. Here he feels so incredibly safe and so incredibly seen.

When the shampoo is done, instead of having Viktor slide down and dunk himself in the water, Jayce cups it with his own hands. Cups it and gently pours it over Viktor’s head, careful not to get it into his eyes, each movement is thoughtful and each is filled with so much care.

Filled with love, though, neither of them could see it yet. Neither could see the blossoming love that grew between them, from a seed that has always been there, buried through timeline after timeline.

Jayce’s hand soothes him into a state of relaxation, he nearly falls asleep while the conditioner is applied and then rinsed off.

Hector had spoken about how he’d cruelly grab onto the back of Viktor’s neck, but the one time Jayce’s hand came close it was to cradle him. To reassure him things would be alright, that there was a light at the end of all of this, that they would keep building new paths to reach their perfect destiny at the end.

On the back of Viktor’s neck there are only two parts left of Viktor’s original bond mark, only Hector’s canines are left. It rises, just like the other indents, the other scars as his scent gland rejects it with each passing day in Jayce’s care.

When it’s complete, Jayce leaves to prepare something to eat while Viktor gets out of the shower, his stomach starting to growl. He grabs the first aid kit and carries it with him towards the kitchen, to bandage Jayce’s hand once more.

Notes:

Jayce and Viktor meeting on the bridge by Tayyellowsugar: https://x.com/TayARMY22/status/1921942198116831519
"Do you want her" scene from Chapter 2 by Ames: https://x.com/corkyno/status/1927010865380819163
Jayce & Bronte by Kotamadaa: https://x.com/kotamadaa/status/1927535590192316912
Adult Diapers by Nam: https://x.com/A_L_I_E_N_xdxd/status/1927843869745631281
Jayce with Bronte (when she's a little older): https://x.com/A_L_I_E_N_xdxd/status/1934470239154024684
SPOILER: Chapter Nine by Kotamadaa: https://x.com/kotamadaa/status/1941625680032301354
Tummy Time by Karlz: https://x.com/karlzmindpalace/status/1942596438187467184

Chapter 10: Nursery Rhymes

Notes:

Didn't end up going to that convention this weekend but that's okay! Next chapter might take a little longer to finish as I haven't done that much writing this week.
I hope the world is gentle to you.

Also a reminder: Both of Viktor's parents are men, but the one that birthed him he calls mama. In this omegaverse universe 'mam' and 'dad' aren't particularly gendered. You can pretend it says dad tho if you don't like it, I don't really mind/care either way.

 

Thank you again for every single comment I love them, don't forget to check out the links to the art in the end note.

Despite the night before, Viktor dreams are soft and serene, he’s comfortable and safe. In them, Jayce calls him baby and kisses his forehead, they lick each other’s wounds and encourage one another. It would be wrong to call it perfect but compared to everything Viktor had ever longed for, it was. In that dream, they each have a shoulder the other can lean on, they each have a chest the other can rest their heads on.

The weight of the world is shared between them.

Viktor and Jayce wake up for the first time in their shared bedroom, with Bronte’s cot beside the bed. It’s their first night together, gathered in a room on their own. When Bronte wakes for feedings, Viktor gets up and feeds her, he doesn’t wake Jayce, he doesn’t need to. But Jayce wakes more often than not, lifting the pillows so Viktor can rest his back against them while he feeds her. He’s there for it all.

A nest still isn’t made, but Viktor hasn’t longed to build one again yet, not after remembering the devastating scent of his abuser. And of course, when they go to sleep, they don’t cuddle up, at least they don’t go to bed that way. They go to bed side by side but end up with their legs tangled in bed. Viktor again tries to shy it away as a necessity, but his cheeks turn pink when his face is pressed into Jayce’s chest, feeling his heart beat and he can’t help but purr.

Together they stay that way for a moment, waking up slowly in the warmth of their blankets. Bronte is up beside them, looking around as she grows more aware of her surroundings every day.

Once they are up and moving for the day, their plans change, they can start their online shopping for the nursery today but buying the paint and painting will come tomorrow. Today is dedicated to finding the correct mental health services for Viktor along with allowing him to go through his stuff. Viktor is a little on edge today from yesterday and thoroughly annoyed with flinching and jumping at the smallest things. He feels that all these steps forward were erased by just a few steps back. Jayce knows that Viktor doesn’t blame him, but he still feels incredibly guilty.

That night when they slept, he held Viktor as gently as possible, gently pushing his hair out of his face. In the silence of the bedroom, he promises to protect him and Bronte from Hector, no matter the cost. An arm, a leg, anything, Jayce would sacrifice it all if it meant keeping them safe.

The pendulum swings slowly downstairs, quiet and unheard by the makeshift family upstairs. Jayce’s medications won’t kick in as quickly as he wants them to and therapy only does so much for him, he worries that he’ll jump even higher the next time he gets amped up. Afraid that even without smelling like Hector, he’ll somehow act like him. That look on Viktor’s face broke his heart.

Everything Jayce brought from Hector’s is splayed on the floor of the bedroom, Bronte is up and watching as Viktor sits on the edge of the bed. Jayce sits on the floor, like a kid on Christmas, waiting to hand something to Viktor for him to talk about or decide where to put it. At first, Viktor is a little jumpy, eyeballs his possessions as unfamiliar objects in his territory, like a cat unsure of the newest pair of shoes in the doorway.

“Let’s start with the three things on your list?” Jayce suggests grabbing Viktor’s phone and handing it to him.

Viktor takes it and looks it over, the screen is just as broken as it was when he left it.

“Why don’t you plug it in?” Jayce motions to the outlet on the side of the bed, he had a few universal charging cables laying around and placed it there.

Viktor does just that, he plugs the phone in before walking back over and sitting on the bed. Jayce hands him his testosterone, which Viktor looks at and sighs. He previously had it right next to his bed, but now he felt that it should go in a medicine cabinet or something more secure. It wasn’t like Bronte was moving around much, but he also felt as though he still wasn’t ready to strictly formula feed her.

“In this bathroom,” Jayce motions to the one attached, “There’s a cabinet with a turn lock, top can be mine, middle yours, bottom for general?”

“Sounds good,” Viktor smiles, pushing that aside as Jayce goes to organize the cabinet. He does it quickly and takes Viktor’s recently prescribed medications and adds it to the right place, anything that he needs immediately Jayce leaves out.

Coming back Viktor is working on the code of his lockbox and opening it, Jayce sits on the bed beside him and watches as Viktor’s face lights up. Everything in there is untouched by anyone but himself, the box isn’t banged up either, he’s happy that Hector didn’t find it. Or he did and just didn’t care enough to do anything about it.

Viktor hopes he’s a sea shell dropped into the expanseness of the ocean, left to float and be forgotten about in the foam. He hopes Hector doesn’t fixate on him, doesn’t go for revenge, and just disappears into his sad sorry life.

The first thing Viktor pulls out is the little pink and purple stuffed salamander, it’s rather large and had been pressed tightly in there. It’s well loved, so he can bend it a bit to make it fit. Smiling he brings it up to his face, staring into its beady eyes as he looks at the little tongue that hangs from its mouth.

“My Máma made this for me,” Viktor holds it to Jayce, “Doesn’t it look professionally made?” 

Jayce nods, despite coming from Viktor’s childhood and being a little understuffed it’s in nearly pristine condition. It’s clear that Viktor took good care of it and protected it.

“Her name is Rio,” Viktor gives it a hug before placing it onto his lap, he doesn’t feel shy doing this in front of Jayce, who only smiles warmly at him, “She needs a little stuffing.”

VIktor looks from the lockbox to the box everything had been placed in, seeing that Jayce managed to find the ultrasound photo that he had hidden from Hector. He picks it up, remembering now that he had saved a copy for himself, he smiles as he looks down to it before offering it to Jayce. How he managed to find it was impressive.

Jayce takes it with a grin, “We’ll have to make a copy and pin it up somewhere, the fridge?” he looks up around the room, “Or get a pinboard.”

“You’d want to hang it?”

“Of course,” Jayce stands up and looks around the room, mentally moving posters, “You grew her from that little bean, plus it’s her first photo.”

It was almost the only phone that ever existed of her.

But it wasn’t, because she exists. She has another photo, she has a birth certificate, she was given a last name and has medical records now. Bronte Talis, a little girl who is and will be known, exists and grows.

For a moment, Viktor wishes that he had Jayce that day at the ultrasound, his excitement and pride over the picture warmed his heart. It didn’t matter that they had the baby beside them now or that it wasn’t his, Jayce really wanted it hung up. He wanted to be able to look at it, the idea of putting it on the fridge for any guest to see? Incredible.

“Maybe both? We make a pinboard for her, we can put her wrist band on it and this photo….pieces of her cast too… Then we put one in the fridge? Would that pinboard go in our room or her room?” Jayce rambles as he walks back over to Viktor, he has a ton of ideas running through his head once again.

“Start with a few copies, we can determine where the pinboard goes once we have her room set up,” Viktor suggests as Jayce hands the photo back to him, instead of putting it back in the box, Viktor puts it on the dresser, that way it’ll be ready for copies.

They sit back down on the bed as Viktor takes out the next stack of papers, these don’t make him as excited as the first two things. This one makes the sparkle in his eyes go away, his smile turning into a line before turning into a frown. Jayce raises a brow, about to ask what they were when Viktor responded.

“Offers for jobs, followed by my resume,” Viktor is holding a thick stack of paper and Jayce is thoroughly impressed.

“Damn, that’s a lot… If you don’t want to work with me, I bet you could call any of these places and reapply.”

“Actually…” Viktor places the stack down and flips through a few pages before finding one in particular.

At the top of the paper was the Talis emblem. Jayce grabs it quickly, his jaw on the floor as he readings it.

“This is way more than I make!” Jayce laughs, pushing his hair back, “These places really wanted you.”

“Eh,” Viktor shrugged, “Some I applied to, some sent offers. I collected each and every one to convince Hec-” it hurts to say his name, “to convince him to let me take one and each time, I had to turn them down.”

“Was there one you wanted more than the others? It doesn’t have to be ours.”

“Shockingly, it is yours,” Viktor laughs, “I was told that they wanted to shift focus a bit, to create a branch off their parent company to focus on public health and medical devices.”

Jayce’s heart stops.

This is the first time he’d ever heard about that, that information had never been shared with him. His boss nor his mother told him about this despite knowing that that was exactly what he wanted. Doing something to directly help people, even if it meant starting from the ground up.

Why didn’t anyone tell him?

“Really?”

“You didn’t know?” Viktor’s confused and he sees how Jayce’s face pales just a bit, “Jayce, are you okay?”

“I’m fine I just…” Jayce puts the paper on top of the stack, “I’d been trying to convince them to do something like that,” he motions towards his workshop, “I work on things in my spare time…but they have me building boxes and scratch and sniff bullshit. I’m not sure if this was my mom trying to surprise me or work under my nose, if she didn’t think I could handle it or not.”

“You can ask her,” Viktor puts his hand on top of Jayces, “Then maybe, you can change departments.”

I almost jumped , Jayce thinks, but he wonders if it would have even made a difference.

His mother very well could have done this without telling him, without allowing him to show off his potential outside of minor designs. Jayce wants to think the best about his mother, but she wasn’t perfect, she was learning how to parent a mentally unstable child on her own for much of her life.

“Let’s see what’s next,” Jayce nods a bit, ready to move on from the subject, “But we will see if that position is still open, I’ll take you in person.”

The next pieces are his diplomas, the credits listed along with the information from his unfinished PHD. After that it’s some medical information about him, the weakness of his heart and lungs that he hadn’t mentioned to Jayce along with information about his leg and back. Viktor doesn’t hide it away, but he looks at Jayce with a sheepish look.

“My heart is stronger, no need to worry about it,” Viktor quickly flips the paper over, “Lungs work as well, how else could I hyperventilate so beautifully? My leg…”

Jayce chooses to ignore Viktor’s joke about his lungs because he hadn’t really paid enough attention to see if that was true. Next time, though Jayce hopes there never is one, he will have to see if there are signs of that.

“Your leg,” Jayce says slowly, “It hurts.”

“It does,” Viktor clears his throat.

Jayce looks at him, wanting him to advocate for himself but the silence drags on longer than he wants it to. For a moment Jayce thinks he won’t do it, that it’ll be Jayce pushing him forward or taking the steps without him when he sighs.

“I need a new brace,” Viktor makes eye contact when he says it, Jayce is proud. 

“Two options,” Jayce lifts up his fingers, “I give you the insurance information-”

“And continue to commit fraud,” Viktor smiles.

“I can afford a lawyer,” Jayce retorts, it's entitled as hell but it makes Viktor laugh, “Or we design it ourselves with our combined knowledge!”

“I can accept committing fraud for Bronte, but I draw the line at committing fraud for my brace,” Viktor is joking, because he had already been receiving treatment for other things, “I would like to see what our combined efforts can make. Let’s work on making one.”

“I can repair your broken one for the time being tonight, that way you aren’t without one,” Jayce glances over to the old brace, it’s something he’s confident he can fix.

They continue through the box, and Viktor finds his parents' wedding rings; they aren’t gold because they couldn’t afford it, but silver; each one has a blue sapphire in the middle. They are simple and beautiful.

“When I was little,” Viktor chuckled a bit, petting Rio for a moment before he took the ring that belonged to his mother and slid it onto his own finger, “I kept trying to wear them when they went to work, they never fit and I almost lost them once. I think I cried until I threw up, only to find them under a chair.”

“I wanted him to propose with these,” Viktor slid the ring off before putting it back, “But right when I was going to give him the code to the box, he changed.”

Jayce’s eyes follow him as he puts them back into the box, wrapped in a soft cloth. That’s when he sees the small stack of photos in his youth, he gasps and grabs them quickly out of the box.

“Jayce!” Viktor gasps, “Remember I…”

Jayce looks at a picture of Viktor in a traditional Czech dress, its sleeves puffy and a mildly uncomfortable smile on his face. His hair is tied back in a braid that drapes over his shoulder. It’s adorable, but it certainly isn’t how Viktor prefers to see himself now.

“What’s the style called?”

“Kroje,” Viktor looks at the dress in the picture, “Worked so hard for it, just for me to cut off my hair and wear pants. They did get a new outfit, for me though,” Viktor takes that photo to show the next, where Viktor seems much happier and is in a more masculine outfit.

Jayce continues to look through the photos and finds that that was the only one where Viktor is ever in a dress. It’s also the only two photos where Viktor is wearing something nice, there aren’t many photos of him, but the one where he is a baby makes Jayce’s heart melt.

“Oh my god,” Jayce stands up and walks over to the cot, holding the picture near Bronte, “Oh my god you’re twins.”

“Impossible,” Viktor stands up, because he, even as a child, couldn’t imagine looking as adorable as Bronte.

It’s undeniable though, they look the exact same except that their moles were on opposite sides of their mouth. Viktor, having been wrong, shakes his head, “A fluke, she’ll grow out of it.”

“Your genes are strong,” Jayce laughs before he flips to the next photo, seeing his parents, “SO strong! Which one is your mother?”

Viktor looks at the two men, pointing to one that has a few moles on his face and a small smile. Just from the two pictures, you could see that both men were gentle, to themselves, but hard working. Their clothes weren’t nice, torn and resewn just like Viktor’s clothing.

“Those genes really are strong…” Jayce looks from the photo back to Viktor, “You look alike as well.”

Again, Viktor is a little confused about this, growing up he thought his parents were both handsome, if not beautiful, but never was able to reflect that onto himself after Hector entered his life. At one time, he had self confidence, he could look at himself and believe he was attractive, but that washed away.

It was time for that to change, to heal, but it would take time.

Viktor flips through the last few photos, him in his childhood, one with him missing a tooth with dirt stains on his hands and clothing. The final one was a picture of him with a handmade toy boat, he smiles while looking up at the camera, showing it off with pride.

“They worked hard to get me into school,” Viktor puts the pictures back into the box, he passes over his parents birth certificates, their death certificates, and the evidence of their marriage.

He doesn’t want to dwell on that.

“I have my diplomas hanging in the workshop, we can hang yours up too,” Jayce reaches his hand out for the paper, Viktor hands it over without any hesitation.

Once they sort everything out and Viktor’s clothes are thrown in the wash before being either hung up or folded, they take Bronte down stairs to continue their day. She’s so much more aware of them now, getting excited any time either of them talk, watching them as they move around and moving her arms and legs when she’s happy. She’s quickly outgrowing her clothes, which is another sign that they need to get shopping soon. 

The first thing they do is call around and get Viktor scheduled for the first meeting with a therapist. Due to his insistence, it’s virtual and not in person. Jayce has a feeling that when they try to leave the house tomorrow for paint, it’s not going to be easy, but he keeps his mouth shut.

Viktor’s excuse is that he doesn’t have a ride there and doesn’t want to organize someone to watch Bronte. If that’s what he prefers, Jayce accepts it, but he hopes that it’s true.

As they eat breakfast Jayce puts his laptop between them, immediately they start shopping for things online. Viktor has a notepad beside him as he makes a list, some things would be online while some in person, some things Jayce claims to have upstairs and some they’ll need to pick up.

“What color should her crib be?” Viktor asks, putting the pencil near his mouth just as Jayce turns his head with a growing smile, “Oh wait wait, no. I have quickly learned what that smile means, we are not painting it red and gold.”

“But she’s a Talis!”

“She’s a baby ,” Viktor puts the pencil down, “It wouldn’t match her room, red and gold is a little bold, don’t you think?”

Jayce pretends to pout a bit, scooting a little closer to Viktor in the attempts to egg him on, to maybe get a little wiggle room. Viktor though, is a difficult rock to move, he turns to stare at Jayce without any shifts in expression. 

“Fine,” Jayce sighs, giving up, “But she will end up with something that’s Talis themed.”

“Her last name is not enough?” Viktor chuckles a bit, “Quite proud, aren’t you?”

“Yes!” Jayce smiles, “My family worked hard and put their blood, sweat, and tears into everything we have, it’s a great thing to be proud of.”

It must have been nice, to have something tangible of your family’s pride. Viktor sits back for a moment, knowing that the only tangible thing of how hard his parents worked would be Rio and the fact that he was alive.

The fact that he was stubborn enough to make it as far as the bridge and the fact that he was willing enough to let Jayce take him home. A mixture of both his parents.

Bronte can’t be like Hector, even if she loves him, she can’t end up with his behaviors. His narcissism, his sadism, and his ability to manipulate someone on a dime. Bronte should grow up like Jayce, maybe a little unstable and a little erratic, far from perfect but someone that he can learn to support.

Standing abruptly, Viktor goes to get the wrap and walks over to Jayce, “Wear her.”

“Ah, okay,” Jayce grabs Bronte as Viktor shows him exactly how Ximena did, wrapping her onto his chest before sitting down to examine his work. He’s learned not to question Viktor whenever Bronte ends up in his arms, but he’s assuming it’s because of his scent.

Jayce is one hundred percent correct, but that’s not all.

Throughout Viktor’s entire pregnancy, she only felt him and his own heart beat, she resided in a place of stress and hopefulness. Other than Viktor’s voice, she’d hear the terrible things that Hector would say to him, the hatred that seethed from his words.

Against Jayce’s chest, she’d feel someone else’s heartbeat, feel the presence of someone else. The peace and love from someone other than Viktor, someone else who she could rely on to protect her.

“You should take your shirt off,” Viktor suggests, Jayce lifts his head from pressing his nose against Bronte’s head to look at Viktor, “For skin to skin.”

“Isn’t that just for whoever birthed her?”

Viktor isn’t sure if it’s his omega instincts or if it’s simply his growing fondness for Jayce, but wants him to be more than just Jayce to Bronte. If it’s the fact that Jayce has loved Bronte wholly and fully the entire time he’s known her or if it’s the fact that he seemed so incredibly happy looking at that ultrasound photo.

When they had first met, Viktor had asked if Jayce wanted her, it’s only been a month, but Viktor still feels as though Jayce is the best person to be in her life. Only this time, VIktor plans to be there with them both.

“And fathers,” Viktor explains, using fathers as it fits Jayce the best, “And you…fill that role. I am not sure if you realize that or if you just think you are doing something good.”

Jayce looks down to Bronte, before looking back to Viktor, “I can be her father?”

“If you want to be, I wouldn’t mind…” Viktor only felt nervous for a moment, because everything about Jayce’s body language made him confident in the fact he would accept.

But before Jayce accepts, his eyes water, his lip quivers as he looks down to look at Bronte, “Do you want me to be your dad, Bunny girl?”

Though it’s certainly too soon for her to understand what he means, she lifts her head up to him and smiles, gummy and true as she makes a noise of joy. He knows that it’s simply her reaction to being against him and hearing him talking to her, but it causes his heart to fill and spill.

Viktor leans onto his hand, his elbow now on the table as he watches as Jayce puts a hand to his face to cover the happy tears that collect in his eyes. Viktor’s own eyes water just a bit, crying when happy was a foreign concept to him yet somehow, Jayce had him doing it frequently.

“I think she is saying, Are you not already ?” Viktor chuckles, before gasping as Jayce wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him into a hug with the three of them.

Jayce’s arm wraps around his waist and pulls him from his chair and onto his lap and while Viktor blushes just a bit, he doesn’t try to wiggle away. Instead he adjusts his arms, one going around Jayce while the other can rest upon Bronte in a small group hug.

On Jayce’s lap, Viktor’s stomach flutters as Jayce presses his face into Viktor, a reversal of what he’s been used to. He feels wanted and like he belongs here, his daughter has another parent.

This is the first time that Viktor sits on Jayce’s lap in the right mind, where he is allowed to blush and wrap his arms around Jayce in a way that couples almost do. Somehow, his arms fall naturally in place, just as Jayce’s arms fall in the perfect spots for him. It’s strange, because it feels so incredibly familiar.

And it’s not because of yesterday nor is it because of the day Jayce carried Viktor in from the rain. There’s a sense of familiarity that borders on nostalgia, that they had been in this position long before the past month. And when Jayce's hair brushes against Viktor’s chin and the feeling intensifies. Viktor is smiling, looking out towards the table as though something else is supposed to be there.

But what is supposed to be there? Viktor isn’t sure, so he takes in the moment and smiles as he sits in Jayce’s hold, as the other man’s shoulders tremble with pride. In this moment, Viktor’s scent slips out, scenting the little pack they’ve formed.

Once they’ve composed themselves, as a family, they go upstairs into the workshop where Jayce fixes Viktor’s old brace and the two design a new one. Bronte is either awake or sleeping, enjoying herself and the sounds of tinkering around her. The conversation between the two adults keeps her occupied, she hears words and her curiosity begins. She’s absorbing it all, the way they move, their laughter and speech patterns. 

They are her family.

When the brace is made Viktor tries it out, he feels relief quickly though not completely. This brace is old and Jayce insists they can make it better. This one doesn’t give him as much support at his ankle and foot, nor does it support his inner leg as much as it should. It will suffice for now and will allow Viktor more mobility when they go to get paint.

The rest of the day they plan Viktor’s actual new brace and Jayce starts building Bronte’s crib. Whenever he has to use a scarier tool or bend over too deeply, she is passed onto Viktor who assists without the heavier machinery. If something unsafe is in the air, Viktor leaves with her, protecting her lungs while Jayce forces him to protect his own.

They work as a team, Viktor helping and adding input before he ends up getting fully immersed in the building process. Together they bounce ideas off each other and admire each one of them. 

They end the day with a nearly finished crib and a bookshelf, there is more to do, but they made fantastic progress.

“So much for taking it easy today,” Jayce sighs, wiping sweat from his brow.

“It was a good distraction, a wonderful mental reset,” Viktor smiled and had been smiling during most of their time together, “I like the look of the natural wood, it’s classic.”

“Just add some varnish? I can do that tonight once Bronte is out of here.”

The plan is set, the crib is varnished, tomorrow comes faster than Viktor can expect despite having such a fulfilling day. Having become used to not having his cell phone, Viktor forgets about it and leaves it charging on the nightstand, when he’s ready he’ll look through it and get a new one.

The next morning Ximena comes over to watch Bronte for a few hours, allowing both Viktor and Jayce some time on their own. Each is thankful, but this is Viktor’s first time since the hospital where he was so far away from Bronte.

“She’ll go to school one day…” Jayce teases him.

“And you will cry about it,” Viktor retorts, “I would put money on it if I had any.”

It’s the first time Viktor will put his fixed brace to the test, to make sure that the adjustments they make will work for now. It’ll also give him an idea of what he’d like changed when they make a new one. 

Crossing the threshold of the house wasn’t an issue, neither was getting into the car, but when they arrived at the parking lot of the hardware store to pick out paint and get supplies Viktor sat frozen. The parking lot wasn’t empty, neither was it completely packed, it wasn’t in Zaun nor was it close to Progress Bridge, there was no way that Hector would be there.

Despite not being busy and seeing all of the empty parking spots, Viktor sits with an iron locked grip on his pants, staring at the front of the store as he debated if this was a mistake. Viktor wears at least three patches to block his scent, one on the back of his neck and the other on each wrist. He refuses to risk it. Jayce wears one on his wrist and it’s enough.

“He won’t be there,” Jayce reaches his hand out to Viktor, “I’m sure of it.”

“There are people there,” Viktor takes a deep breath, “Too many people.”

“Pretend it’s the hospital, we are here for an appointment for you, Bronte.”

“It’s not the same,” Viktor moves one hand to Jayce’s, holding it tightly as he turns to look at Jayce, “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You can stay in the car? I can bring swatches out to you and leave the air on?” Jayce draws small circles on Viktor’s hand.

“No I, I need to be part of this,” Viktor’s other hand goes onto the door handle, but he still stares forward, he can’t hold onto Jayce’s hand and leave through the door at the same time.

“You are part of it, choosing colors and then painting,” Jayce goes to let go of his hand, to allow him to leave easier but Viktor’s grip holds.

“Not enough,” Viktor opens the door, grabs onto his cane and starts to leave the car, dragging Jayce over the center console and out of the passenger side door, “Before I change my mind.”

Jayce climbs over it, struggling a little bit because he’s short of a hand, but he makes it through and closes the door. Viktor’s grip only gets tighter as they take a few steps forward, the closer they get to the store, the more Viktor’s demeanor changes.

His eyes shift from left to right, he stands closer to Jayce and avoids eye contact with anyone who walks past them. It’s a massive step and Jayce is wondering if it’s too much for Viktor as his breathing grows unsteady and his focus seems to fall every other way. The store isn’t crowded, but it’s still too many people for Jayce to try and scent him to help him relax.

“You’re doing great,” Jayce leans down and whispers, “Almost at the paint section.”

“I-I have to use the bathroom,” Viktor stutters.

“Okay,” Jayce changes their course and pushes the cart they have to the side before bringing Viktor to the bathroom. He waits outside as Viktor walks in, but after ten minutes he finds himself going to check on him.

Hearing the sound of Viktor getting sick, Jayce knocks softly on the stall door, “We can order the paint online.”

“No,” Viktor refuses before he opens the stall door, his eyes are bloodshot but he has a determined look on his face, “We are here.”

You said I was doing great , Viktor thinks.

Quickly Viktor wipes his face off and rinses and spits to clean out his mouth before once again, having that iron grip on Jayce’s hand. They head out once more and through a few pauses, they make it to the paint section. It’s  not until Viktor is comparing paints that he lets go of Jayce’s hand and seems more confident.

As Viktor goes to reach a paint swatch that’s too tall for him, Jayce stands behind him and reaches up for it, whispering once again, “You’re doing great, Viktor.”

Viktor shivers and pulls his hand back, startled by the warmth that floods him from the praise. Jayce sees him move, thinks he’s somehow lost his balance and brings his hand down onto his waist and hip to steady him.

That only makes it worse for Viktor, whose face has turned red as a shiver runs up his spine. Viktor can not remember the last time he’d felt something like this, a stirring in his middle. The combination of Jayce’s touch, his breath on his neck and the damn praise.

“That one please,” Viktor points once more, trying to keep himself steady as Jayce grabs the swatch and hands it to him, “Thank you.”

He turns his head away before pointing to another color, one that doesn’t fit the color scheme and asks Jayce to grab it for him, just to get him to walk away. Jayce follows his instruction, grabbing it without question as Viktor thanks himself for patching so well. There’s no way he smelt normal in that moment, because he certainly didn’t feel normal.

You have a baby at home, Viktor curses himself, You are not some virgin. 

He catches himself before mentally correcting himself, and there was nothing sexy about that!

“You know you pointed right to Talis red right?” Jayce comes over with a cocky grin on his face and Viktor’s heart swoons just a little bit.

The anxiety of being out was getting to his head, making him a little too aware of the way Jayce’s cheeks moved his lips.

“That was the wrong one,” Viktor lies, “But it’s okay, we can choose from these.”

Jayce can see that Viktor is lying, the way his eyes shift and how he moves his eyebrows. There is no way that Viktor will be able to lie to him from now on, at least not face to face. Although he knows Viktor is lying, he thinks it’s mostly a coping mechanism for how anxious he is about being out, not that Jayce had gotten him flustered.

They quickly choose between the colors, get all of the paint before grabbing what they need: painters tape, pans and rollers, brushes and smaller brushes for the designs that Viktor has in mind. Somehow, painters' overalls end up in the cart in each of their sizes. Viktor doesn’t rebuttal against it, knowing that he doesn’t have enough clothes to allow to get dirty.

Viktor keeps himself close to Jayce the entire time, keeping himself away from others and making sure to keep his eyes down and away. One day, Jayce hopes he can walk around with his head up high and show the world his brilliance. 

The only mistake Jayce made was forgetting his wallet in the car and leaving Viktor standing in line at the register while the cashier was ringing things up. Viktor stood there like a deer in headlights, didn’t blink or say a word until Jayce returned. The entire time he was wondering if Jayce was going to just leave him, if his wallet wasn’t in the car but at home. Or even worse, the woman was going to be ready for them to pay and Viktor would have to explain to her that Jayce went out to get the wallet.

So he stood there, petrified, until Jayce ran back in with a smile before paying her and leading Viktor back outside. Viktor’s body remained stiff until they got to the car, where he gave Jayce the worst glare he could probably muster. Which happened to be a little cute, at least in Jayce’s perspective.

“Sorry, sorry, It won’t happen again,” Jayce smiles, “Plus, isn’t that a right of passage? My mom used to do that all the time to me as a kid.”

“I used to get the groceries myself,” Viktor helps Jayce load things into the back of the car, “but I was never allowed to walk into a store without money . So that was the first time I experienced that particular horror.”

Viktor speaks so casually, but he’s smiling all the same now. In hindsight it’s silly, but at that moment Viktor wasn’t sure what to do as the anxiety of having to explain to the cashier loomed closer. It probably happens all the time, especially to children who were either more or less than excited about it.

It was just another drastic difference to their upbringing. Jayce was allowed to be a kid, careless and left standing in the check out line while his mother got something while Viktor had to go alone with his pockets full of meager change. The outlook of a boy dressed clean waiting for his mother versus a boy in rags, who could be perceived as stealing, was a perspective that Jayce never really thought about.

Mel and Lest often went into Zaun to help at a community center, Vi lived there and often visited to check on people back home or just to see if the local kids were safe. Jayce had wanted to help people, but hadn’t. Maybe helping people didn’t have to be some grand gesture, but something small.

Maybe he’d donate a part of his paycheck to a soup kitchen? Or maybe when he finds out what his mother’s plans were with the second department, he could do something there to help. A donation to local hospitals? Something to make it easier, something that he could make long lasting.

“Jayce,” Viktor snaps him out of it as they sit down in the front seats, “What are you thinking about?”

“I uh, nothing,” Jayce looks at him, with a lying grin.

“Look at me,” Viktor leans over the center counsel and Jayce does as he’s told, Viktor stares at his eyes and clicks his tongue, “What is that brilliant brain thinking about? Saving the world? Feeding the poor?”

“Actually…” 

“Well.. what are you waiting for? When you’re going to change the world-”

“Don’t ask for permission,” Jayce finishes, leaving the two once again staring at each other.

“Are you a mind reader now?” Viktor starts before clearing his throat and putting on his seatbelt, “Or have I said that before?”

“You must have,” Jayce puts his own seatbelt on, but his eyes linger for a moment on Viktor’s side profile, “Maybe in college? I don’t think you’ve said that recently.”

The slope of Viktor’s nose, the way that the bruises on his face have faded. Healing slowly, hopefully inside and out. After admiring him for a moment, he puts the car into drive and they head back home.

On the way home they stop for a quick lunch, Viktor does voice that he thinks he’s had enough interactions with people for the day so Jayce lets them order ahead on his phone. They eat their meal in the car, talking about mathematical theories that neither of them should really know so well. 

It feels good to feel the breeze on his face, the sun directly. Viktor knows he needs to go outside more, to feel the earth and smell the clean air. 

When they arrive at home, Ximena has taken the stroller out of the box that it has been sitting in since they got home. She’s kneeling in front of Bronte, dabbing some sunscreen on her nose and putting a hat on her head. Bronte is elated at the sounds of the outdoors and the way Ximena’s voice sounds, she knows her and gets excited when she sees her.

They get out of the car and Viktor goes to Bronte first, looking at her in her large sun hat, sitting in the stroller with her chubby cheeks. She has fat on her now, enough to warm her and fuel her as she grows. Viktor looks at Jayce and without talking, Jayce takes out his phone and takes a photo of her.

Jayce wants to ask his mother about Viktor’s position, first to see if it was still open and second to ask why he hadn’t been told about it, but he chooses not to. It’s not the right time, it would put her in an awkward position as well.

“While you boys paint,” Ximena is adjusting her own hair, “I am going to take Conejita on a walk around the neighborhood. I have her diaper bag under the seat, I hope that’s alright?”

“Of course,” Viktor smiles before getting ready to grab stuff from the car, Jayce can feel it, he knows that Viktor is about to say something and attempt to walk into the house, “She’ll love fresh air with her…ah abuela is it?”

Ximena freezes just as Viktor grabs onto the bags of supplies and begins to enter the house, Jayce can see it on her face. The joy and confusion as Viktor simply says that and walks away .

“Mi amor!” Ximena runs up after him after making sure the stroller is locked in place, cutting him off by using her wrist to bump up against hers, “Mi amor, what do you mean?”

Viktor’s plan had been foiled, his attempt to get away before she got to him was misjudged and Jayce hadn’t been walking behind him as he had thought. She meets his eyes and Viktor starts to stumble over his words.

“Well…her last name is Talis and Jayce is basically her father-” Ximena’s arms wrap around Viktor and he drops the bags he’s holding.

Nothing breaks or spills, it’s just tape and rollers so it falls without catastrophe as Ximena pulls him back and starts to pepper kisses onto his face.

“Mamá,” Jayce laughs, “You’ll kiss him to death.”

“He has made me an abuela!” she puts her hands on either of Viktor’s cheeks, her eyes beaming now as they well with tears, “I kiss him as I please.”

Viktor doesn’t resist and lets her do it, although it’s a little overwhelming it’s not something that he hates.

Jayce nearly makes a comment that he had a part in it as well when he realizes he didn’t. There is no blood connection between the two, not even a legal adoption at least not yet. Still, he smiles as Viktor’s face begins to redden and it’s time for him to spare him or too much of his mothers love.

“Abuela!” She smiles as she steps back, her hands clasping together before she returns to the stroller, “A walk with abuela, are you ready Conejita? A walk with grandma.”

“I knew that you were going to do that,” Jayce picks up the bags and hands them back to Viktor, “Drop it casually like that. You did the same thing with me.”

“You could say I fear rejection,” Viktor admits, matching Jayce’s gaze before starting back towards the door, “Imagine making a little show of it, making a sweet gesture only to get denied. I have too much pride for that.”

“You never have to, but just know that if you ever did, I’d never deny you,” Jayce means it when he says it too.

Acknowledging his words in silence, the two continue up the stairs and set the bags in the middle of Bronte’s room. They quickly get the room together and prepared, Jayce puts tape where the trim is and around the windows. Jayce begins to question if he should add carpet to the entire room while Viktor insists a nice rug will be fine, the hardwood floors are nice.

Jayce’s biggest concern is the hard wood.

Jayce brings in a ladder from his garage and a rolly chair for Viktor in case he gets tired. They are sure they should cover the ground with paper to avoid getting paint on said nice floor, but they don’t. A little confident, they just place a few newspapers around the area where they would be working.

The final step is getting into their overalls, both changing into clothing that isn’t sentimental in any way. Together they look each other up and down, thinking just how adorable the other looks while assuming they themselves look ridiculous. 

“One more thing!” Jayce runs into their room, coming back with a hat for each of them, each one labeled with a massive T, “Gotta make sure we don’t get any paint in our hair,” Jayce places the hat onto Viktor’s head, “Right?”

“Right,” Viktor grabs the brim and pulls it down a little bit before they start their painting journey, “We look silly.”

“But we look silly together ,” Jayce takes out his phone, lifting it up before he puts his arm around Viktor and takes a picture of them together, “Ma is going to want to scrapbook Bronte’s first year, if that's okay?”

“That’s more than okay,” Viktor realizes then that he needs to get his phone fixed and together so he can take more pictures of her to send to Ximena.

They get to painting, Jayce taking the spots closer to the ceiling while Viktor edges everything he can reach without getting on the ladder. It’s a little quiet so Jayce ends up putting music on his phone, it’s a mixture of things he likes and things that came out when they were younger. Childhood, highschool, college; nostalgic songs that make you think of sitting in the back seat of a car with your friend.

Songs that make you realize there had been times when you were much more innocent than you were now. Viktor thinks of himself as a kid when a particular song comes on, how he’d ruffle his own hair and tell him that he’s doing a great job, that he deserves the world. Jayce thinks of friendships he’s had, of distinctive memories that made him into the man he was today.

Eventually, Viktor is singing under his breath, Jayce knows he won’t get louder unless he’s reassured of it, so Jayce joins him. Singing and painting their daughters room, enjoying themselves before they talk about things of the past, their lives before the void had gotten so loud.

The space between them has closed as they paint side by side, Jayce no longer on the ladder but standing beside Viktor who’s stood up beside him, the chair behind him. During the chorus, Jayce brings the roller to his face and pretends to use it as a microphone, steps back to give a passionate cover of it. It’s silly and lighthearted, the kind of fun that Viktor missed, so he joins in. Viktor suggests the next song and Jayce is more than happy to put it on as they continue painting.

At some point Ximena comes home and peaks to check on them, seeing that they are laughing and painting she quietly heads back down to Bronte.

“Vamos de compras,” she gives her a little tap on the nose before they leave once more.

When the white layer is completed they have lunch in the middle of Bronte’s room. There’s paint on their hands and overalls, they might look messy but the floor is spotless. 

“Do not be alarmed,” Viktor says as he places his sandwich down and slowly lays on the ground.

“Why would I be-”

Crack .

Viktor twists his body in a way that cracks the enter lower portion of his back, the relief is instant as he stays in that position for a moment, stretching as he stares up at the ceiling. His upper back hasn’t started acting up yet, but his body is readjusting to the brace.

“Damn,” Jayce puts his food down and lays down next to Viktor, “Show me how to do that, I want to crack like a glow stick."

Smiling, Viktor shows him what he did before they spend a moment stretching. Jayce enjoys this pause, it also makes him think that maybe he should be doing daily stretches in general.

After lunch they go back to painting, bringing out the colors and smaller brushes as they hand paint beautiful webs and shapes into certain places on the wall. They don’t want it to be too overwhelming, but they do add plenty to break up the white wall. 

They finish painting once the sun sets, the mess on their overalls is not limited to white. On each of their overalls are hand prints from themselves and sometimes each other.

“It looks great,” Jayce smiles as Viktor nods in return.

Viktor had been so focused on painting, that his mood didn’t drop when the sun did.

“Tomorrow we’ll start assembling,” Viktor is planning out loud, “It’ll be ready in a few days if things arrive on time.”

“Then she’ll have her own room,” Jayce puts his hands on his hips while he admires their work.

“She’s not ready to sleep in here alone yet,” Viktor turns to look at him and Jayce picks up exactly what he’s putting down.

“Of course, she’s too little, she’ll have to stay with us for a while-”

“Exactly, maybe for a nap she can sleep in here-”

“At night she’ll be with us, she’s not ready.”

“I think the recommendation is nine months?”

“Let’s do a year to be safe.”

“Or a year and a half?”

“That’s better, we can revisit this then.”

Whether Bronte would be ready to sleep on her own for a year and a half was debatable, but right now neither could imagine her sleeping apart from them. They also had only spent one night with the three of them together, Jayce had scented the two of them, but Viktor hadn't had the chance to do it back to Jayce much.

In order for a pack bond to form, Viktor would have to do it in return and they’d need to allow their scents to melt together in that room. It was strange, how the two of them planned to raise this baby together platonically, despite the intimate things they did together.

That night they give Bronte a bath in the sink just as they had early on together, gently bumping into one another as they do so. It’s not really a two person job, but they help each other as much as they can, plus if Bronte gets cranky Jayce is always happy to distract her with a funny face.

When Bronte has had her nightly routine, they put her to sleep before taking turns to shower. Viktor is first, settling instead for a bath to soak his aching bones in warm water. As he sits there submerged, washing himself off he thinks of Jayce’s hands moving through his hair, the way his beard tickles his skin when he’s close, along with the way that his hand fell upon his hip at the store.

You’re doing great.

Viktor shivers, like the lightning in a storm, he feels an electric buzz that shoots from down his spine to between his legs. It startles him just as much as it makes him feel ashamed, immediately he dunks himself under the water.

It’s a form of punishment because how dare he seek pleasure?

Sitting back up, he keeps one leg extended before he rests his forehead on the other one. There’s relief in knowing that it’s not Hector that his body reacts to, but it feels shame and guilt knowing that it’s Jayce.

He’s convinced himself that it’s because Jayce is a good person, that it’s been so long since he’s experienced kindness. Not just kindness, but everything a real couple would: sleeping cuddled up together and the way their hands now fall into one another’s. All of those things couldn’t be anything other than necessity, for Bronte and no one else. 

For his healing and nothing else, Right?

Right?

Viktor is sure to snuff out that spark as quickly as it arrives and he’s sure to let the smoke dissipate fully before he gets out of the shower. The excitement from the day has dwindled and he’s certain that the moment he walks out into that bedroom, the damn ‘sundown scaries’ will hit him like a brick. He’s quick to dry off and get dressed, leaving the bathroom clean for Jayce. They pass each other, Viktor smelling strongly of his own pheromones as Jayce smells like sweat and paint. 

As Jayce shuts the door behind him, Viktor goes to look at Bronte. In part to make sure she is still sleeping while the other part is to ensure that she’s still breathing. That’s one part of his postpartum woes, randomly he’ll be incredibly concerned about whether or not Bronte is breathing.

She sleeps and he only turns on the lamp that's farther from her, watching to make sure it doesn’t disturb her before he lays down on the bed. Again, he feels he should check his phone but he doesn’t, he’s not ready to see if Hector had sent him anything, assuming that he had taken his phone.

Instead he lays back in bed, rolling onto his side as he snuffles up into the blanket. Jayce begins to shower and Viktor closes his eyes and listens to it, pretending it’s rain gently falling on the side of the house. Imagining that it’s something soothing and safe, hoping to return his previous enjoyment of the weather.

But as he lays there, a dizzying feeling makes his eyes open. His pupils dilate and his hands feel so incredibly empty, clutching at the sheets he sits up.

Out of nowhere, Viktor is hit with the overwhelming urge to nest.

Notes:

Jayce and Viktor meeting on the bridge by Tayyellowsugar: https://x.com/TayARMY22/status/1921942198116831519
"Do you want her" scene from Chapter 2 by Ames: https://x.com/corkyno/status/1927010865380819163
Jayce & Bronte by Kotamadaa: https://x.com/kotamadaa/status/1927535590192316912
Adult Diapers by Nam: https://x.com/A_L_I_E_N_xdxd/status/1927843869745631281
Jayce with Bronte (when she's a little older): https://x.com/A_L_I_E_N_xdxd/status/1934470239154024684
SPOILER: Chapter Nine by Kotamadaa: https://x.com/kotamadaa/status/1941625680032301354
Tummy Time by Karlz: https://x.com/karlzmindpalace/status/1942596438187467184
"Do you want a picture?" by Pinkhyu: https://x.com/pink_hyu/status/1942783310184473033
"I was under pressure" by Pinkhyu: https://x.com/pink_hyu/status/1942783315817517453

Chapter 11: Nest

Notes:

Posting a few days earlier than planned as a little surprise.
My life continues to do some backflips around me, which isn't particularly cool or fair but yayy to therapy. My summer vacation is almost up (I'm a teacher) and I am equally ready and not ready to go back. I love a routine and what I do, but dang I just want to think about Jayvik all day.

Also got my four wisdom teeth removed, they were impacted and I had to do IV sedation. It's been a wild ride, and I hope I feel normal enough to work out again soon. My cheeks are still puffy and the pain is no joke, I should have gotten them taken out when my dentist first suggested it (years ago).
BIGGER ALSO: thinking about taking suggestions for world building one shots for Pendulum. I mentioned it on my twitter (@corkyno) but figured I should mention it here as well. Let me know if there is anything you'd like to see me expand on or talk about/show!

Anyway, please enjoy!

Sitting up, Viktor feels his fingers begin to tingle as that deep and primal yearning arrives. The desire to create a safe and warm space for them, all of them. At first it had been Bronte and himself, with just the desire for an alpha, but now that their scents had mixed he needed to include Jayce.

Unlike last time, he doesn’t sit in desperation wondering what to do, instead he pushes himself to the edge of the bed and carefully gets off. He’d removed his brace for his bath, so he just grabbed onto his cane to make it across the room. The first few times he had attempted this, there hadn’t been much to grab or hold onto, now he was surrounded with choices. Viktor begins to pull clothes from drawers, everything they had done to organize and create space had been thrown to the wind as he tosses everything onto the bed.

Perhaps nature waited for Viktor to establish himself in this space, to give him a few days for his scent to mingle with Jayce’s before demanding he nest again. Clean clothes, worn clothes, everything except something that was soiled or had paint on it, ended up tossed on the bed. Viktor stares at the pile, eyes wide as he feels himself falling deeper into instinct, his logical side slowly drifting away.

Viktor crawls back onto the bed and begins to move things around, forming a base before making some walls of clothing. He has enough to take up space and Jayce certainly does as well. It’s a compulsion, he can’t stop, his mind is blank as he puts things where he knows they need to be, where they are destined to be. 

A few things don’t fit right, they don’t sit right at least not yet, and they are tossed to the side without panic or worry because now he has more of his own things. He has the ability to throw things to the side if he doesn’t like the texture, if it’s uncomfortable or makes his nose twitch. Now he’s been reunited with clothes he knows, clothing that doesn’t smell like Hector but like him deep in the fibers despite being washed.

A shirt he knows, a vest he knows, he’d never thought that a few pieces of cloth could hold such a meaning, trivial materialistic things. Trivial materialistic things that allow him to take up space, proof that he exists, something tangible that can be seen.

Viktor trills as he packs Jayce’s clothes tightly amongst his and Bronte’s, his mind doesn’t dive into the thoughts of being fearful or of being a bad parent. He doesn’t lament over what could have been or what he has done wrong, the void can’t be heard as his scent is released in short bursts.

Sweet milk and lavender fill the room as he lays down within the nest, nuzzling his face into the walls of it as he wraps his arms around himself. It’s not complete, but he needs to test it himself, to make sure everything is saturated with himself before he adds Bronte into it. There is no worry about who will walk through the door of their home, no worry about getting yelled at or threatened, Viktor feels the safest he ever has.

When it passes his test, when he’s scented everything like a cat, he looks to Bronte and her cot. She’s resting peacefully, Viktor knows lifting her can disturb her but he’s fully confident in his ability to calm her. Scooting to the edge of the bed Viktor carefully picks up Bronte, kissing her on the forehead before bringing her into the nest with him.

Bronte is growing quickly, she’s so much bigger than she was before. Her clothes have already changed, her casts and her weight, Mel is happy with her growth now and it makes Viktor silently beam with pride. He’s doing this, obviously with help and support, but he’s helped her grow. The body that loved and carried her was finally supplying her with what she needed to grow.

There aren’t any words that Viktor could use to explain the sheer happiness he’s experiencing as he cuddles up with his little girl. He holds her close as he sinks them into the nest, his mind buzzing of nothing other than sharing this space with someone he loves. Ximena could have been correct in saying that nests were mainly for omegas, but for him it’s clear that Bronte enjoys it too, or she’s just happy to be so close to her Tata.

She purrs louder than her little body can contain and Viktor does it gently in response. Just because Bronte is purring, doesn’t mean that she’s an omega as well. Eventually she will grow out of this skill unless she does present as an omega, then it will reappear later.

For now, Viktor soaks it in because he’s never heard his baby purr for him; he kisses her head and allows that natural sedation to wash over him just like it had at the hospital. When he had that first moment of peace, that first moment where he desperately wanted to hold her and be with her. 

It’s a beautiful feeling, one that he’ll likely never forget and will hopefully experience more than once. His inner omega is pleased, his heart flutters and he’s able to soak up every moment with her. Soon she’ll be older, she’ll be larger, she’ll move around more. Soon she won’t be considered a newborn anymore, she’ll lose the newborn scrunch and smell. He’s fighting to make up for the few days he didn’t have that, just as much as he’d fight for the days he couldn’t enjoy while he carried her. They’ve lucked out that Bronte has been an easy baby, still a baby nonetheless, but when she keeps them on their toes it’s not for too long. 

Viktor admires her, remembering that she is every little bit of love that he had in him for the longest time, every ounce of it in his body manifested into her. She’s beautiful and has soft and thick brown hair, he twirls a finger into it just as he does himself as he realizes she has a second mole on her face.

It’s something they’ll have to get checked out of course, to make sure it’s just a ‘beauty mark’ and nothing more. With the possibility and privilege now, Viktor is able to be ‘safe’ rather than ‘sorry.’

He knows Jayce will be out of the shower soon and the anticipation tempts him to knock on the door of the bathroom. Resisting is hard, so he instead snuggles into Bronte and listens to her purr that seems to be louder than his own.

Jayce finishes his shower, dries off and changes, he’s happy that they are starting into a nighttime routine. The first night they shared their bed had been different, a little awkward given the type of day they had and their second night was a little less so. 

Tonight should be a little less awkward and instead be the first night where a new normal is established. Awkward was a strange word to use, because as they went to bed they kept themselves far from each other, yet the past two mornings they ended up cuddled against one another.

It’s strange because Jayce is doing all of this because he wants to, yes he scented the two of them in a panic and was taking responsibility for it, but he wants it. They’ve changed his life, given him purpose and added the color back into the world. But that’s not all of it, the familiarity he has with Viktor is something he’s never felt before. He feels a little selfish about it, but he’s drawn to Viktor in a way he can’t fully explain, he’s promised himself that he won’t push any more boundaries. 

The day he triggered Viktor, Jayce briefly thought that it was over. That he would be left here to mourn what he had done wrong when things had been going so well. He was confident that he created a rift between them but he was wrong. Viktor let him hold him, let him run his fingers through his hair and held his hand while they were in the car.

Viktor hadn’t pushed Jayce away when he had the chance too, instead pulling him closer or taking him in. Jayce knows that he’s not like Hector, that he’d never raise a hand to Viktor or try to hurt him on purpose, he’d never be that type of person.

Still, he worries what his mental illness could do.

As Jayce brushes his teeth, he feels a flutter in his heart as he thinks about Viktor’s smile or the way his lips start to pucker into a pout when he’s thinking of a retort. A month ago, Viktor seemed to be a shell of his former self  but now, he was starting to show comfort in showing who he was: to react, to be expressive, and allowing Jayce to see his face without trying to hide away. 

Jayce sees how Viktor looks at himself, how he thinks that Bronte can’t look anything like him despite being a near splitting image. Viktor doesn’t see how beautiful he is, focusing only on the things that make him different. Hector burned self loathing so deep into Viktor’s flesh that Jayce fears it’ll never heal over. 

Hector made Viktor silence himself when it came to his leg just as much as he made Viktor hate himself for it. Countless insecurities stacked like glass, ready to tumble and fall at any moment.

It’s one of the goals he silently set for himself, other than helping Viktor feel safe he wants Viktor to know how beautiful he is. How worthy he is of every good thing that exists out there, no matter where it will be. Jayce finishes brushing his teeth and takes a final glance at himself in the mirror, he looks more put together than he has in years. 

Anticipation ripples inside him, Jayce knows the moment he walks out into that bedroom they will act like a couple. He hopes it’s not cruel that he enjoys it, that he hopes that it can last forever. If at any point Viktor wanted to push away, to leave and find someone new to lay with Jayce would help him pack.

It would kill him, but he’d help him pack.

Was it completely normal to imagine snuggling up to your friend while you platonically raise a newborn? To plan a life together around said newborn while holding hands as you walk into a hardware store. To think of how soft his lips would be, how his laughter sounds when he smiles with his eyes. Jayce panics a little bit, wondering if he was taking advantage of someone who has freshly escaped a domestic violence situation, if he was overstepping a boundary that Viktor didn’t know how to set.

Jayce knows for a fact that these feelings that are beginning to grow are genuine, that it’s not simply out of necessity or instinct. He’s starting to fall for Viktor and again, he’s not sure if it’s fair. Now isn’t the time to talk to Viktor about it, the sooner he does the sooner it could all be put to an end as well.

He feels so selfish.

Running his hand through his hair he pushes open the door, maybe Jayce could be subtle about it tonight. While they lay in bed, he can see where all of these feelings lead him. That plan is dashed as he steps into the room, his hand resting on the light switch in the bathroom as he is surrounded by Viktor’s pheromones.

Jayce’s head snaps into the direction of the bed to see that Viktor is cuddled up with Bronte, in a nest. 

He did it!

Jayce could cry, he wants to run up and jump into the bed, to wrap Viktor up in his arms and celebrate such an accomplishment. He can’t do that, though, he can’t risk doing anything that would sully this moment. So he stands there, unable to contain the smile on his face as he turns the bathroom light off and steps forward.

His heart soars into the air, he’s so incredibly proud of Viktor and beyond happy for him. Jayce knew how important it was for Viktor, how it haunted him at night, it brought him down for countless nights. But now he’s done it. It only took two nights in bed together with Bronte by his side, for him to feel comfortable enough, safe enough for his body to allow him to relax and do it. 

Somehow, Jayce hadn’t ruined everything.

He takes another step forward, he’s fighting the urge to run to Viktor and Bronte, to grab him by the cheeks and congratulate him for doing such a good job, but he stops. He can’t startle either of them like that, no matter how much he knows his intention comes from a place of good and not malice. There is a reason he’s stopped and it’s not just scaring Viktor in a moment of peace. 

Catching himself as he begins to dig in his mind for omega etiquette, quickly he reminds himself that he can’t enter it without permission. If Jayce did that, he would ruin the nest in its entirety and leave Viktor feeling upset and angry. From what he recalls, this space now belongs to Viktor. These things were usually reserved for mates, for couples folks who were building families, they were intimate and based on love.

This space has become Viktor’s and Jayce was simply a guest in it, if Viktor decided that Jayce couldn’t be up here, Jayce would have to sleep downstairs. Jayce would respect that fully, but he would endlessly wonder what he had done or what he should have done, to create a different outcome. 

Omegas were so much more complicated than Alphas or Betas, they had a culture of their own, a silent language and rules that they kept to themselves.

Jayce also knows that there are different types of nests, he remembers two of them specifically. One for an omega and their pups and the other for their heats, there’s difference and nuance to how to approach each one and Jayce can’t remember a damn thing about either.

This is clearly not a heat nest, the feeling in the room would be different and he’d have a different physical reaction. 

Although Jayce has slept with omegas before, he’d never spent a heat with one. None of his relationships had ever blossomed that far, not a single one had such an intense connection where he was invited to do that. Same with his rut, he’d never spent it with anyone, those things seemed reserved for people who held close bonds with others and Jayce, admittedly, hadn’t been able to do that romantically.

“Look at that,” Jayce says softly, crossing his arms as he looks at how content Viktor is, how his eyes look hazy as they look at him through half lidded eyes, “You did great, Viktor.”

“Mhm,” Viktor hums in agreement because he did do great and he knows it, “Thank you.”

Viktor’s chest raises and falls slowly, the calmest he has been at night in a long time. The sundown scaries are nowhere to be seen, the endless depression abruptly vanishes. Jayce again gives him praise and he purrs just a hair louder and at this moment, he doesn’t have much shame in him. If he trills, he trills and he wouldn’t attempt to fight it. He didn’t realize he had longed for praise until he’d been starved from it, until he heard it from Jayce.

As Viktor gazes at Jayce, he’s reminded of the sense of purpose he gives him. The ability to take up space, which is what he’s doing right now, taking up the entire bed with himself. Without a second thought, he holds his hand out towards Jayce, this nest wouldn’t be complete without him.

While he’s content here, happy with Bronte, he needs the other person whose scent she radiates along with the clothes that bring him comfort. His own scent has been laced with Jayce, subtle and nothing like a bond, but something that changes him deeply.

“Please?”

Jayce is honored and a little surprised even though he shouldn’t be, he shouldn’t be surprised at all. If it hadn’t been his scent, Viktor would still be struggling with separation sickness even with the medication. Without his scent, Viktor wouldn’t be able to get comfortable, he’d be clawing at nothing attempting to build on nothing and feel that sense of emptiness from before.

Frozen, his heart beats faster at the anticipation of joining them, Viktor wants him in the nest. It's a formal invitation and Viktor doesn’t show any signs of doubt, none at all. He’s making a request because he wants to, because Jayce makes him feel safe. Jayce could cry, he still can’t let go of the guilt of triggering Viktor, of making him feel so fearful.

 He advances towards the bed before stopping, because he genuinely doesn’t know if there are any other rules other than having to be invited. Maybe he should have paid attention in health class or at least to his mother when she was giving him each version of ‘the talk.’ 

Viktor watches as Jayce comes to the side of the bed and stops, the fog in his eyes clearing as he sobers up a little bit. He forgot to consider if Jayce didn’t want to enter the nest. The doubt is sudden, his pheromones lessen and he pulls his hand back to himself, the confidence that had just been there dissipates. He’s so incredibly vulnerable and so fearful of rejection, he reminds himself of the pain of anticipating one thing, of being confident of the response only to be wrong.

“If you want,” Viktor adds, his tongue slowly strokes against his teeth, “No pressure…”

“I want to!” Jayce lifts his hands to the side of the nest,“I just…”

There is a moment where a miscommunication can occur, where things could go horribly south, but it doesn’t. Jayce looks sheepish and Viktor isn’t familiar with such uncertainty from Jayce, especially given that he’d scent them without second thoughts. So he waits for what Jayce has to say, because he can see him preparing to say something. He’s able to remain calm because he’s in his nest, he’s happy and safe.

“I haven’t been in an omega’s nest before, unless you count when I was a pup…” Jayce ruffles the back of his head, “And the last time I joined you, you didn’t really have a nest so I kind of just…jumped in.”

“Oh… just step in carefully, don’t knock anything over,” Viktor suggests but watches as Jayce awkwardly walks closer to the edge, “It’s okay.”

But Jayce stays still as he stares down at the wall of the nest, afraid that he’ll ruin it or that he’ll somehow trigger Viktor again. He doubts if he should be the one to crawl into bed with him and Bronte and for some strange reason… Jayce is scared. Because Jayce is afraid he’ll enter too loudly or be too much, that he'll act impulsively and ruin this perfect moment between the two of them. 

“Jayce,” Viktor’s voice is soft as he lifts his hand out, “I can only do this because of you.”

Because of me.

The doubt slowly dissipates as he moves closer to the bed, reaching for Viktor’s hand as he stretches it outwards to him. Swallowing hard, Jayce grabs onto Viktor’s hand as he carefully lifts his leg up and gets over the wall of the nest, sliding in beside Viktor as they both lay back against the wall of the nest. Of all the times to be nervous, Jayce wonders why now, why in this moment where Viktor is calm and happy Jayce is anxious.

 Bronte nuzzles in between them, perfectly content as she sleeps. Her pup scent melts into theirs, a medium for their two’s essence to meet. Jayce then feels it, that near sedated feeling of being in a place of comfort, being surrounded by calming pheromones.

“Are you comfortable?” Viktor asks, leaning his head onto Jayce’s shoulder.

“I am.”

Leave it to Viktor to ask if he was comfortable.

Jayce lifts his hand up, possessed by nothing but the want to encourage and support Viktor, and places it on top of his head. Viktor doesn’t flinch, instead accepting it as Jayce gently begins to scratch at his head.

“You did amazing,” Jayce’s voice is low, “I knew you could do it.”

“Ssh,” Viktor lifts his finger and places it on Jayce’s lip, looking up as his cheeks grow red, “Enough praise.”

Jayce can see how Viktor’s walls had begun to erode away, his vulnerability along with showing a new range of emotions to him. He can determine that Viktor likes the praise and smiles softly.

“But you did so well,” Jayce continues, messing with him just a little bit as his fingers gently run through his hair, “Second to Bronte in your greatest creations.”

Viktor’s eyes shut and the feeling of Jayce’s fingers in his hair nearly places him into a trance, the words that leave his mouth cause the hair on the back of his neck to stand. That final complement was a little too much and as Jayce’s fingers gently slide down the side of his neck, Viktor releases a single, soft and shuddering gasp.

Jayce freezes and waits for Viktor to react, to sit up in a panic or kick him out, but he doesn’t. Instead Jayce is left to make sure that whatever he does next, doesn’t ruin Viktor’s moment of vulnerability and whatever that was. His cheeks have turned red, his mouth growing wet before he moves his hand away from Viktor’s head and over it. He can feel his heart beating in his throat and he angles himself a little farther away from Viktor.

I can’t ruin this , Jayce thinks, suddenly much more aware than he had been moments ago.

“I like it,” Viktor mutters, “Your hands in my hair, it’s nice.”

“Your hair is beautiful,” Jayce admits, voice low as he calculates his next move, “Soft and thick.”

You are beautiful, he wants to say.

God, he doesn’t want to overstep.

He doesn’t want to cross any lines.

Pursing his lips, Jayce slowly lowers his hand back into Viktor’s hair, half wondering if Viktor is just that relaxed that he doesn’t realize the noise he just made. Or, Jayce wonders, it’s himself who’s interpreting it as something other than a sigh of relief. 

He continues to twirl Viktor’s hair, hearing how Viktor’s purr rises and falls with the way his fingers move. Viktor lifts Bronte closer to him, nuzzling into her as he ensures his scent thoroughly coats her, he wants to do it to Jayce too but even his instinct can’t override his shame on that one.

“I was happy,” Viktor speaks up once again, “When you washed it for me. No one has ever done that for me before.”

Again, it hurts Jayce. Like a spear to the heart in combination with adoration, the comment is entirely bittersweet. He deserves such acts of kindness. 

“I’ll do it anytime you want me too,” Jayce rests his hand on Viktor’s head briefly, looking down towards him, “Anytime.”

It didn’t have to be after something so harrowing and he didn’t want it to seem like an act of guilt. Jayce genuinely enjoyed it as well, performing an act so sweet and tender. 

“Your hand?” Viktor remembers.

“It’s fine, it doesn’t hurt,” Jayce replies before going back to scratching Viktor’s scalp. He might be spoiling him a little bit, but it’s alright.

Viktor deserves it.

“Ah, skin-to-skin, it would be a good time to try it…” Viktor turns to look at Jayce, “If you want.”

Jayce doesn’t need to be asked more than once, he wiggles his way out of his shirt and Viktor makes sure Bronte is comfortable in her diaper before placing her on top of Jayce’s chest. He uses the shirt that Jayce just took off to lay over her to keep her warm.

“Time to cuddle with Papa,” Viktor’s voice is light but it sounds like a song to Jayce.

Bronte doesn’t stir, she’s calm as she’s transferred from one parent to the other, curling into the warmth of Jayce’s chest when she’s placed there. Jayce didn’t know he could feel love like this until he felt Bronte’s little heart beating against his bare chest, her soft little body against him. So fragile. 

Viktor sits and admires the two of them, wanting nothing more than to rub his face into the crook of Jayce’s neck, to scent him just as heavily in return. Jayce kisses the top of Bronte’s head before looking up to Viktor, noticing now that Viktor’s eyes are looking at him with a new expression.

His cheeks are red, lips softly parted as he stares at him, pupils wide and dark. Jayce knows that he wants something, it’s possible that whatever Viktor wants goes farther than that, that it’s perhaps a need.

“What?”

“I…” Viktor stutters, cheeks growing warm, “I’m memorizing how you both look.”

A lie, Jayce can tell.

“You sure that’s all?” Jayce steadies his mouth, fighting a smile.

“Eh, no,” Viktor’s honesty surprises even himself.

“What do you want?” Jayce gives up and allows a smirk to form across his face as he watches Viktor.

Viktor puts his hand into his hair and begins to twist it slowly instead of laying back down beside Jayce. His eyes look away as he twirls his hair, trying to think of something other than the want to lick at Jayce’s skin, his scent gland.

“I-nothing.”

“Viktor Talis,” Jayce tilts his head, “I told you, I would never deny you.”

That’s enough to break Viktor, shatter his resolve into a million pieces.

Viktor Talis , but only according to the hospital, only according to some insurance papers. Viktor knows that’s what it is, that’s all it is, they both do- but something possessed Jayce to say it. It’s playful, it’s a connection to both himself and Bronte, to pretend to have a last name that wasn’t just Of Zaun . 

Viktor’s chest shudders, the warmth in his middle expanding up into his chest. It’s nothing like a heat, but it is something just as instinctual. It’s not sexual, at least not at its root, its foundation is in that desire to form a pack, to finalize the family that’s been forming between them. 

There is something else hidden beneath that, under the layers of trauma and repression. Under the self loathing and the belief that he doesn’t deserve to be touched and loved- The desire to mark, to be possessive, to cover Jayce with himself and sink his teeth into the side of his neck- but that’s not something Viktor can ask nor is it anything Viktor wants right now.

Right now he just wants to immerse Jayce in that feeling of safety that he is so good at placing upon him, to lay the blanket of lavender upon amber. He wants Jayce to feel just as he does, that this nest is a sanctuary between the three of them. Ximena’s comment about postpartum nests being mainly for omegas falls to the wind because Viktor needs Jayce to experience what he is.

Safety, purpose, something resembling love.

If Viktor can remember what romantic love feels like.

“Can I scent you?” Viktor stutters and despite Jayce saying he couldn’t deny him, Viktor flinches slightly as though he will. 

Always anticipating a devastating blow, emotionally preparing himself for that rejection. Protecting himself from being let down from such a high height. Disappointment is a monster he’s fought for life.

“Please,” Jayce hums, “I really like your scent.”

It’s instant relief and Viktor allows himself to fly, to let the happy hormones explode in their numbers as they tickle every inch of his saddened brain. Jayce hadn’t just said yes because he wouldn’t deny him, he said yes because he liked Viktor scent. 

Viktor isn’t called disgusting, isn’t told to fuck off.

He’s not held down and forced to play into Hector’s needs and desires.

He’s not slapped across the face or locked in a room of decay and solitude. He’s allowed to fulfill his needs, no matter how seemingly simple they are.

Trilling, Viktor lays back down, only this time he presses himself close against Jayce’s bare chest, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck. His hair tickles Jayce’s skin, but he has nerves of steel and he only focuses on the baby in his arms. If he ruins this, betraying Viktor’s trust and vulnerability in any way, he will walk back to the bridge himself and leap.

The way their bodies allow space for the other is unlike anything Jayce has ever experienced, the way that Viktor’s chest presses against him, how his leg falls beside his. They fit together like puzzle pieces and if something doesn’t feel right, they adjust until it does. 

Viktor’s body softly vibrates against him, his purr is healthy and the strongest it’s ever been. Jayce closes his eyes, focusing on the baby on his chest as Viktor’s lips mistakenly brush against his neck as he presses himself as close as he can.

Don’t ruin this , Jayce takes a slow and deep breath just as Viktor releases his pheromones. 

Release isn’t the proper word, as they completely erupt from each of his scent glands and flood the room in a flurry of a storm. Jayce’s eyes remain clenched shut before they relax because the feelings mixed into Viktor’s scent are that of sleep and peace. Serenity.

Unbothered and calm, something foreign to both of them.

A low rumble grows in Jayce’s chest, something that he himself has never once done in his life. And Viktor responds by lifting his head and placing his hand onto Jayce’s chest beside Bronte and feeling it shudder beneath him. Jayce opens his eyes and looks down, feeling the rumble of his chest beside the collective purring of Bronte and Viktor beside him, it feels sacred.

He feels needed, he feels seen and accepted for his flaws despite only revealing a few of them to Viktor. 

With that they’ve solidified their little pack in Viktor’s first imperfectly perfect nest.

Viktor slips into sleep first, his face pressed into Jayce’s neck as Jayce allows each muscle in his body to relax. He can’t keep Bronte here, though, if they are falling asleep it’s not safe for her to be right here. Although he doesn’t want to, he needs to put her in her cot. Carefully he moves Viktor’s hand from his chest and slits up, Bronte makes a little sound before nuzzling back into him.

“Alright Bunny Girl,” Jayce is careful as he exits the nest and redresses Bronte so she doesn’t get cold, “Gotta practice safe sleep.”

Bronte lets him change her, but he’s woken her up and is going to have to walk through their routine one more time. He’s tired, exhausted even from a long day of painting and running around, but he knows it’s important. What he doesn’t know is that there is as much etiquette leaving a nest as there is entering one.

“Bunny needs her routine again,” Jayce whispers to Viktor, maybe a little too quietly, “I’ll be back soon.”

There’s no response but that’s alright, Viktor is asleep and he doesn’t need to wake him up to do something they had already done. Viktor looks so peaceful asleep in his nest, he doesn’t want to take away any precious moments from him. 

Quietly he descends the stairs as Bronte gives a little protest, she’s cranky because she’s tired but she isn’t making it easy for either of them by going right back to sleep. Shirtless, he walks her through her routine again after preparing her a bottle.

“I know, I know,” Jayce coos as he sits down to feed her, “papa is right here, don’t worry.”

Since Viktor had said he was her father he’d been experimenting with what sounds right. He doesn’t know if he prefers papa or dada, he doesn’t know if daddy or father sounds better. Honestly, he’ll be happy with whatever Bronte calls him as she grows up as long as it’s not just his first name.

“You know,” Jayce lifts his head back up and looks down to Bronte, “Your Tata fought like hell to be here with you….and he continues to fight every day. You come from tough stuff Bunbun.”

Although she’s a little crabby and takes a moment to take her bottle, Jayce is smiling ear to ear, he loves this little girl. As she eats he leans back against the chair, there’s a chill but he doesn’t mind it, he knows he'll be returning to a warm bed soon. Even though he’s left the nest, he still feels its calming effects, his eyes close as he feeds her. Once she’s done he’ll burp her and see if she needs changing before tucking her back into bed and then returning to Viktor’s side.

Back in their bedroom, the peace that Viktor was experiencing abruptly vanishes. Sucked out of the room and into the space of the hallway with the door that was left open. He goes from feeling calm to the feeling of being thrusted into nothingness. 

The empty feeling grows quickly in his middle, diseased and haunting.

Jolting upwards he reaches beside him to find the bed empty, the light on the bedside table is still on so he turns in a frenzy to Bronte’s cot to see it’s empty as well. The light mocks him as he sits in solitude, the nest he worked so hard on completely abandoned.

You’re not good enough, he hears Hector whisper from behind him, You’ll never be good enough.

Viktor flinches, pulling his hands up into his hair before sliding over his head to place pressure on his scent gland. It burns and the scent of sulphur is leaking from that very gland that’s continued to fight Hector off. He’s at a loss, the smell disorientating him as he starts to fix a nest that doesn’t need fixing, but he doesn’t realize it’s sulphur, he can’t smell it.

His hands shake, it’s not perfect, it’ll never be perfect.

I can’t do this.

He couldn’t keep an alpha in his nest, he couldn’t keep his baby in his nest. 

Logic and reason have left, only Hector’s influence remains as he whimpers to himself. Tears erupt from his eyes as he blindly tries to replace shirts in their location, hoping that this will be to Jayce’s liking, that he'll approve of it when he returns.

If he returns.

It feels like betrayal and it hurts.

Leaning forward, he wails.

Jayce hears it from down stairs and jumps upwards, he had been in the middle of burping Bronte when Viktor’s cry traveled to him. He hadn’t been gone long enough for Viktor to have a nightmare, had he?

The pendulum freezes, for the first time in years the clock goes off on the hour. The time isn’t right, the clock hasn’t been right for ages. Each step Jayce takes up the stairs syncs with the clock’s strike.

One.

Two.

Three.

He skips steps but he holds Bronte steady, not once slipping.

Four.

Five.

Jayce is at the doorway, he’s breathing heavily as he rushes inwards, “What? What’s wrong?”

Six.

Hector’s scent hits him so hard in the face that he starts to look around the room, half expecting him to be there. Jayce holds Bronte closer in a defensive manner as he runs over towards the window, it’s closed and locked. There’s no trace of anyone else in that room.

As the realization dawns on him, Jayce turns with a look of renewed horror on his face. Hector’s scent was coming from Viktor but by some stroke of luck Bronte didn't notice it.

“Hey,” Jayce puts Bronte down in her cot and approaches the nest again, he’s about to step into it when Viktor turns and looks at him with an expression that freezes him.

Viktor flashes his fangs as he sits up, the anguish on his face shifts quickly into an animalistic anger. A face that doesn’t really look like Viktor, it’s angry and full of hatred, it’s defensive and ready to fight. It lasts for just a second, just long enough for Viktor to realize that Jayce was standing beside him and not Hector. That beside him was the person he wanted there, not someone he feared.

When Viktor realizes it, there’s a moment of relief, of thankfulness that it’s him. His expression softens, his mouth closing. But it’s a short reprieve, as the anguish from before returns, “I’m sorry. I will make it better, I can…tell me how you want it.”

“Viktor, it’s great,” Jayce goes to kneel on the bed to get in, but Viktor flinches, causing Jayce to stop. If he sends Viktor into another episode, especially in the sanctity of his nest, he’d never forgive himself, “Why would it suddenly be bad?”

Jayce is trying to use reason, but it’s not the time or place and Viktor isn’t ready for it.

“No,” Viktor puts his hands up, “Don’t enter it until it’s perfect, don’t enter it.”

Viktor genuinely believes that he had done something wrong, but he hadn’t and neither had Jayce. The reality was that they were two highly inexperienced adults attempting to build bridges over caverns of lost time. Grasping at each other without a ledge to stand on, falling as they build mid air with only the semblance of a direction.

“But it is perfect,” Jayce realizes then, that he needed to be reinvited into the nest, it dawns on him now that he hadn’t left properly, “It’s a beautiful nest, you did a great job.”

“Don’t enter it,” Viktor’s crying, closing his eyes as he covers his face with one hand, “Don’t enter it unless you’ll stay. I’ll- I’ll make it better for you.”

It’s a mixture of hormones, damaged pride and trauma. The pleasant comments, the compliments from Jayce earlier had been temporarily erased from his short term memory, plunging into the darkness that tried to swallow him.

“Viktor, can I come in?”

A silence fills the room and Jayce is ready to plead for Viktor to let him in, when Viktor finally talks. His head hangs low, as he goes to hold himself, he’s thinking of whether he should let Jayce in or not. If it’s worth it, if it’s wrong, if it’ll just waste Jayce’s time.

Viktor shrinks away, Hector’s scent laying stagnant. Jayce isn’t like that, reason whispers to Viktor, a single tendril that lifts his chin upwards to face Jayce once more. He knows he needs to grip onto it, to allow that tendril to lead him closer to logic.

Jayce admitted to never being in an omega’s nest before, there was no way Jayce could have known. Even Viktor didn’t know that there was a negative reaction to abruptly leaving a nest without warning, all he knew was that there was a proper way to do it.

Guilt settles over him, he avoids Jayce’s stare, ashamed, “Come in.”

Guilt but it’s hard to shake the feeling of rejection, of not being good enough.

Jayce swoops into the nest, wrapping his arms around Viktor before he lays him back down. He holds him close, pressing Viktor’s face into his neck, hoping that he can counteract the smell of sulfur before it triggers Viktor.

Before it causes any more damage.

“It’s perfect, you did amazing,” Jayce runs his hand through Viktor's hair, remembering that he likes it the most, “Deep breath ... .that's it.”

Half of the request is to calm Viktor down, the other half is to ensure he’s breathing Jayce in. He cradles Viktor’s head for a moment, waiting as the smell of sulphur begins to dissipate, Viktor hadn’t noticed it and Jayce was beyond thankful. They had scented the nest and room so thoroughly, it didn’t stand a chance.

It wasn’t enough to stick.

“What’s wrong?”

“You left,” Viktor lets his tears sit upon Jayce’s skin, “because my nest is bad.”

“No, no it’s perfect,” Jayce feels some relief that the only thing that’s wrong is over a mistake, “I left to do Bronte’s routine again, you might have been asleep when I told you.”

Slowly, Viktor tilts his head back to look at Jayce. There’s a naivety on his face, eyes wide and watery as Viktor examines Jayce’s face to confirm that it’s true. Jayce has no reason to lie, but he does have every reason to fumble as he learns about rituals that omegas had.

“What’s the correct way to leave a nest? I…I didn’t realize there was a way to do it correctly,” Jayce hopes that there is a way to salvage this, if he tainted Viktor’s first nest, he’d just have another thing to talk about in therapy.

“Your wrist,” Viktor lifts his own, Jayce lifts his, “It’s this..”

Viktor doesn’t know from his own experience, just from seeing his parents do it when it was time for his father to leave his mother’s nest. On the rare occasion where they were able to spend some time together.

Softly he rubs their wrists against each other, it’s quick and subtle, exactly like what Jayce had seen when Viktor had met Mel and his mother. When he does it, he feels something tingle in his wrist up to his arm, he feels Viktor’s presence flow through him, a sense of approval and security.

It feels like returning home.

Viktor feels it too, feeling Jayce inside and out, that momentary worry upon seeing Viktor in a crisis. The purity of his intentions, the kindness in his heart, and all of the messy pieces in between.

It’s a ritual that Jayce has now been included in, something secret and nearly divine. The gift that omegas have, to be able to see each other so deeply and create platonic bonds that were stronger than anything he could understand.

Now it makes sense how important it was to have a community, to have a pack.

“I…swear I am a man of reason and logic,” Viktor sighs as they rest their arms, but Jayce’s fingers intertwine into his, “I am…more than this crying, panicking, mess of a human.”

Jayce can’t describe it, because Viktor is right, but Jayce believes he is more than all of those things, but he can’t tell Viktor that he’s cosmic. That he’s somehow an integral piece of everything he’s ever known. 

“I know, give yourself some grace Viktor,” Jayce nearly puts his lips to Viktor’s forehead again, like he had the other night but doesn’t. At the last second he tilts his chin upwards, tickling Viktor’s forehead instead, “You had a baby a month ago, you’ve escaped a terrible place…give yourself some grace.”

“What if I never go back to the way I was before?”

“Then you’ll be someone new that you’ll learn to love and care about,” Jayce speaks, but he doesn’t know if he has the ability to do that for himself, “And that’s okay. But from what little stuff I remember about our encounter in college, you’re still incredible. Smart and a little sassy.”

“That seems,” Viktor closes his eyes, he feels that Jayce’s lips by his forehead isn’t a first time occurrence but that’s impossible, “Far fetched.”

Loving himself down the line, when he couldn’t fully love himself now seems like an impossible task. Jayce’s thumb gently strokes Viktor’s but never loses his grip, it keeps their wrists closer together even though they don’t need to be. Viktor doesn’t need a reminder of Jayce’s intentions and Jayce doesn’t plan on leaving the nest, but Jayce persists. 

“I’m sorry,” Viktor whispers, “for scaring you. I feel I ruined the moment.”

“You couldn’t control that,” Jayce closes his eyes, feeling Viktor breathing onto his skin, “Don’t apologize.”

“Do Alphas purr as well?” Viktor’s cheeks pinken, “Because you did.”

“They call it a rumble,” Jayce is smiling, “I’m not sure if there is much of a difference, similar premise.”

Viktor wiggles slightly, his pupils are widening again as he settles back into the mindset of making their nest, his scent permeates the room once more. It’s lavender and cedarwood this time.

Now that logic and reason has mostly returned to him, Viktor is able to think of the proof that Jayce genuinely enjoyed being beside him and Bronte. An alpha couldn’t just fake that, just like an omega can’t fake a purr. If alphas could fake those, Hector would have done it all the time.

“I’ve never done that before,” Jayce admits, releasing Viktor’s hand as he lifts it up, “Didn’t think I’d ever do it, honestly.”

He fights the urge to look down at him, to catch his eyes and place his thumb and pointer finger on his chin. To angle it up just a little bit and see those widened pupils, to see that beautiful face in a state of peace. To lower his lips down and kiss his cheek, his nose, his forehead and mouth. It’s here Jayce begins to realize that it’s not the nest that’s making him feel this way, but his own doing and Viktor’s simple existence.

Viktor slowly lifts his gaze to Jayce, his smile reaches his eyes before he hides it quickly, masking his excitement that he was able to help Jayce experience something new. That between them, they were sharing treasured moments equally. He’s not quick enough to hide his satisfaction and Jayce catches onto it quickly, how his eyes tilt upwards along with the corners of his mouth.

I’m happy that it happened with you, Jayce wants to say, his eyes going down to look at Viktor’s lips.

“Do you feel better?” Jayce asks, his hands want to explore Viktor’s form.

Viktor nods, his instincts once again taking over as he sits back up. Jayce follows along, watching as Viktor begins to fix parts of the nest that he had disturbed while worrying, occasionally he looks over to Bronte and edges towards her. While he does this, he is nonverbal, only communicating at Jayce with trills and different facial expressions.

“Safe sleep,” Jayce reminds him, putting a hand gently onto his arm or back, whichever is closer, “We’d need to make her a separate space if you want her in the nest.”

Viktor stares at Jayce, displeased that he’s right before he continues to make adjustments. He moves carefully, favoring one leg compared to the other while he moves around the nest. Sometimes he places things around Jayce, other times he’s back at Jayce’s side, offering him something to scent before waiting for it patiently.

Just because Viktor isn’t talking, doesn’t mean that they aren’t still communicating with one another. Jayce watches as Viktor asks in silence which shirt is softer or which needs more of either of their scents. Jayce speaks more at first, then falls into seldomly talking as they exchange their words in silence. 

Jayce was intrigued watching this version of Viktor, watching him fall into his instincts no matter how animalistic they were. A particular trill catches Jayce's attention as he leans back against the nest, he places one arm across the back of it, his other hand motioning towards Viktor.

“Viktor,” Jayce’s own urges beckon, he wants to please the omega that’s made this nest for him, “Come here.”

And Viktor does, he moves from one end of the nest to Jayce, his face going directly to Jayce’s hand. Jayce’s heart skips a beat because his intention wasn't to have Viktor’s face in his, gazing up at him so obediently. Jayce is sure that much of Viktor’s life had been listening to the commands of other people. This didn’t have to be that.

Clearing his throat, Jayce is sure to change his tone, “It’s perfect, let’s go to bed.”

The haze before Viktor’s eyes fades just a little, enough to stop him from pulling himself over Jayce to fall asleep on him, but not enough to keep him from staring at him. Viktor tilts his head to the side and feels Jayce’s hand caress his cheek.

It’s perfect .

Those words echo in Viktor’s heart, filling his chest with warmth and tenderness that he had forgotten existed. Perfect. Bronte was perfect, Jayce’s pheromones were perfect, and the nest that he had made was also perfect. Despite being the first one he’d ever made, despite almost messing it up, it was perfect.

Viktor had planned on simply tilting over beside Jayce, curling up into his arm and snuggling into the crook of his neck, but Jayce led him upwards. Following the hand that guides him, Viktor finds himself laying on Jayce’s chest, his head laying close to Jayce’s neck as two arms are wrapped around him. 

The haze begins to dissipate and Viktor closes his eyes, tears sneak past his eyelids as he places his arms around Jayce in return. Together, they fall asleep.

Notes:

Jayce and Viktor meeting on the bridge by Tayyellowsugar: https://x.com/TayARMY22/status/1921942198116831519
"Do you want her" scene from Chapter 2 by Ames: https://x.com/corkyno/status/1927010865380819163
Jayce & Bronte by Kotamadaa: https://x.com/kotamadaa/status/1927535590192316912
Adult Diapers by Nam: https://x.com/A_L_I_E_N_xdxd/status/1927843869745631281
Jayce with Bronte (when she's a little older): https://x.com/A_L_I_E_N_xdxd/status/1934470239154024684
SPOILER: Chapter Nine by Kotamadaa: https://x.com/kotamadaa/status/1941625680032301354
Tummy Time by Karlz: https://x.com/karlzmindpalace/status/1942596438187467184
"Do you want a picture?" by Pinkhyu: https://x.com/pink_hyu/status/1942783310184473033
"I was under pressure" by Pinkhyu: https://x.com/pink_hyu/status/1942783315817517453

Chapter 12: SMS

Notes:

Will be out of the country for a few days so expect a delay for the next chapter.
Also, enjoy some domestic fluff

Also answer the question at the end...

TW: clit mention

It’s a perfect night, the scent of smoke from a fire settles around them, hugging them tighter than the humidity of the summer. Jayce’s hands are on two soft hips, his thumbs rest on the prominent bone; he’s never been more tempted to gnaw on something before. The person before him’s hands slide up his chest and around his neck, just as hungry to push closer.

Alcohol courses through his veins, but the taste of milk and lavender are on his lips. A fancy latte he’d enjoy at a coffee shop with his notebook in front of him and a pair of amber eyes buried deep into his soul. It’s terrible how they are two separate bodies, hands stripping one another of their clothes as the music thumps unceremoniously against the wall.

This has never been something Jayce has done, what either of them had done, before but it doesn’t stop either of them. They are scientists at their core and upon finding a reaction to a stimulus they continue, each attracted to the other in a way neither can describe. Love at first sight could be a rouse, fated mates could be a faerie tale but this was a true connection. 

“Jayce,” the man gasps, Jayce’s mouth meets his again, he needs to hear his name called again with less composure, “ -yce.”

Jayce shouldn’t be so taken by the taste of his breath, the beer and mixed drinks his mother warned him not to. But Jayce can’t handle it, he swallows down the man’s soft moans, his breathy calls of his name, drinking it like a chaser. 

They fall backwards onto a softer surface, Jayce thinks this is a bedroom and hopes that it is just the same. If he was sober, if he hadn’t decided to let loose and partake in the party activities, he would have felt scummy, undressing someone on someone else’s bed.

But his mind was foggy and filled with smoke, acrid and smooth chasing the soft floral hints below him.

He keeps himself steady, one elbow on the bed as the other slides under the other man’s shirt. Amber eyes peer at him, one hand guiding his hand higher towards his chest. He says something but Jayce can’t hear him, his mind short circuits as he feels soft and plump tissue pulled to the side under athletic tape.

Later he’d reflect on it, he’d think ‘oh like Lest but the opposite’ but not now, not when he’s about to score with the most attractive man he’s ever seen in his life.

Those lips move again, saying something he can’t hear right now, instead Jayce looks up to watch the mole above his mouth, it needs to be kissed. Shifting upwards, Jayce kisses him before the man’s shirt comes off.

Jayce gropes him, hands trailing from his chest to his hips and plump ass while he kisses down his jawline to his throat. It’s intoxicating, more so from the alcohol that warms his belly. 

Hands are on his back, nails softly digging into his skin before landing in his hair. The way his thin fingers run through Jayce’s hair is starting to drive him wild. 

There’s a burst of something, an explosion of their pheromones that could nearly mimic a heat and a rut but it’s contained between the two. They are about to ruin this bedroom, they are going to make enemies with whoever lives here, Jayce doesn’t remember where he is.

All he remembers is the way this man looked at him through the fire, how he walked over to him with a red solo cup and sat down beside him. The way the first thing he brought up, was about him nearly getting kicked out of school.

Hiemerdinger’s assistant, with prominent cheekbones and a sly but kind smile.

If Jayce hadn’t started letting lose, his pride would have hurt him. Instead through the fog of it all, through the fire that licks between them from the pit they sit around, he focuses solely on the man’s face.

Handsome, beautiful, confident in a silent kind of way.

Confident in a way that’s hidden, waiting for an invitation to show itself before falling back into the shadows of the room. A wallflower who stands out, who Jayce wants to talk to.

“Jayce~” The man gasps again, pleading as those lithe fingers go down to Jayce’s pants and undoes them, revealing his hardened cock.

Jayce says his name, it passes his lips as his own hand slides down into his pants. How it trails over hair before meeting the wet warmth between his legs. If it wasn’t the scent of the room, if it wasn’t obvious enough by how he smelt, the amount of slick between his legs was a clear sign of being an omega.

It wasn’t the same as being wet, it was different and Jayce wanted to taste it.

Needed to.

Jayce flips his wrist in the man’s pants, finding the swollen pearl that introduces him to the gate of heaven. Warm, wet, and divine. Collecting slick upon his fingers, Jayce strokes Viktor’s clit leaning back to watch him writhe under him.

He’s so incredibly focused, as though he’s watching one of  his prototypes on trial, absorbing everything there is to know about this ethereal beauty beside him. How his lips part, how his eyes start to lose their focus, how his hands venture down to stroke Jayce’s cock. It’s careful work before Jayce starts to finger him slowly, one finger then two as he pries into the warmth of his core.

The smoke increases, the taste of lust and milk drift across his tongue for a moment before he’s on the bed and the both are completely nude. Jayce is completely sheathed inside him, and his trembling legs are splayed open to make space for him. The glint of a belly ring reflects from the light that trickles in through the window.

There are bruises on one of his legs that Jayce doesn’t register is from a brace they’d taken off in the heat of passion. Jayce was sweating and saying something himself, but over he’s not sure what it is.

It feels like he’s in a tunnel, any movement he wants to make, he can’t. Any additional action or word can’t be controlled, like this had all been predestined, like it had all been done before.

Jayce does remember saying a name, he remembers looking back at the man who’s eyes roll back, who’s lips part in a moan with hickies and bite marks all along his neck and chest. His hair is short, nothing like Jayce knows now.

“Viktor,” Jayce moans, leaning forward he places his face against Viktor’s scent gland.

His thoughts are groggy and he knows that Viktor must have had a patch on earlier that night, that’s usually the etiquette of alphas and omegas at parties. Yet somehow it was gone, saturating Jayce with everything he’d ever dreamed of, his was gone as well and he wasn’t sure if he had even taken it off himself.

 Jayce nuzzles into it before licking the skin as he thrusts deeper into Viktor, a gasp followed by a grip on his shoulder. A word before teeth clamp onto Jayce’s neck-

Shit, it’s Viktor.

As pleasure would have erupted within him, as euphoria and satisfaction would have rippled through his body he’s tossed from that moment. 

Jayce wakes up with a start, his pants are wet like some pubescent teenager and Viktor is still asleep on his chest from the night before. He puts his hand on his face, grasping his forehead for a moment as he steadies his thoughts. There’s shame being an adult and having a wet dream, even more shame of having a wet dream of your friend.

He could list all the problems he has with himself, with himself and how he’s handling this situation as it continues to unfold but he can’t help but think about how real that felt. A distant dream that felt like an honest and physical memory.

There are moles on the body of dream Viktor that Jayce wonders if he had seen before or if he’d made them up. There have been seldom times where Jayce has seen Viktor in a state of undress and he isn’t sure if they’d match the ones in his dream.

Were they in his memory from seeing them or had they just appeared in his memory to justify his fantasy?

Gingerly he grabs Viktor by the arms and moves him to the side, he wonders if there is a punishment for alphas who ruin the sanctity of an omega’s nest. If there is, he knows he deserves it.

Learning from last night, Jayce gently rubs his wrist to Viktor’s and waits for that feeling of all encompassing acceptance and grace. There is no doubt that it worked, he can feel it through every cell of his body.

Once he’s let Viktor know he gets out and cleans himself up, he takes a few minutes to hide in the bathroom. Jayce doesn’t want to be disingenuous around Viktor or Bronte and he needs his heart rate not to spike again, he’s a little mortified as well hoping that he didn’t release any sex based pheromones into the air. 

By the time he’s done in the bathroom and returns, ready to curl back up in bed or begin the process of rousing Viktor, he notices that the nest is empty as is Bronte’s cot. The two have already gotten up and gone downstairs, Jayce can hear Viktor moving around in the kitchen.

Either his timing is impeccable or Viktor was pretending to sleep, Jayce doesn’t want to know the answer either but he can’t help but come to the truth. Viktor is not easy to wake up, so if he has the physical and emotional capacity to leave the room with Bronte, he has been up for a while. Jayce dies a little internally before following them downstairs, hoping it’s not awkward.

Viktor has Bronte strapped to his chest while at the stove, he’s cooking deformed pancakes, eggs and bacon with a grace that Jayce is sure he lacks.

“Need help?” Jayce wants to step in, to break the awkwardness that he’s feeling.

“Eh, not with this,” Viktor turns his body as he flips the bacon, ensuring that Bronte doesn’t get hit with any sparking grease. He has an excellent eye for it, one he wishes would translate into fun circular pancakes or fun shapes, but alas, “But maybe one thing.”

Jayce grabs plates and utensils, setting them onto the table before he crosses his arms and leans against the counter. He’s waiting for Viktor and trying not to think of the version of him in his mind. It’s shame and guilt layered together.

On one hand, he’s imagining such things about his friend.

On the other hand, he feels like he’s cheating on Viktor with a version of himself that either once existed or never did after directly saying that’s alright. His brain is cruel for combining those things all together, for thinking up something that felt so real. 

“I want to get a new phone soon,” Viktor either didn’t notice Jayce that morning or is choosing to ignore it as he continues to cook, “But keep the original number. I need you to ah, block Hector’s number and maybe delete his messages, if that is alright?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jayce looked to the table where the broken phone was already laying, “I can do that.”

“I tried,” Viktor cracks an egg too hard onto the side of the skillet, his frustration evident, “But couldn’t.”

Before he began to prepare breakfast, he sat down at the kitchen table and emotionally prepared himself to do it. But as he swiped on his phone, felt the broken glass against his fingers and the amount of notifications from Hector, he couldn’t do it. He put the phone down and nuzzled into Bronte, counting silently to himself to keep himself from spiraling before he shot up to make breakfast.

Making breakfast as a thank you to Jayce for last night, but also a coping mechanism to keep his mind somewhere else. He can’t have an attack if he is balancing multiple tasks at once, he can’t have his mind wander somewhere else if he’s worried something is going to burn. Viktor knows his PTSD isn’t that easy to trick, he knows it will linger and wait for him and interrupt whatever he’s doing with an earth shattering punch to the chest.

But he tries.

Therapy should help, medications should help but those things take a lot of time. And Viktor feels like he’s running out of it, that he’s late, stunted by the decisions he made, but he can’t even rush. 

“I’ll do it now-”

“Wait,” Viktor snaps, turning to look at Jayce as he reaches across the table for the phone, “Until I am seated and we have eaten.”

Jayce doesn’t ask why, but he feels as though it’s because Viktor doesn’t want a lovely morning ruined by his ex. He also wonders if it’s because he wants to watch Jayce’s face as he reads the top line of messages. Mentally, he’s preparing his poker face.

Breakfast is set and the two eat in a moderate silence before Viktor speaks up again.

“I…really needed last night,” his cheeks flush pink, his eyes avoiding Jayce’s, “Thank you.”

Jayce watches as pink spreads over his face, he wants to see more color on him, he wonders if Viktor would form freckles in the sun. The image from his dream last night hits him harder, Viktor’s face completely flushed as his eyes roll back in a gasp, Jayce takes a quick sip of water before replying.

“I’m glad I could help.”

They sound so awkward, tiptoeing around a conversation neither of them are ready to have. Not ready to address the feelings that are blossoming in their chests.

“It was a great nest, I’m sorry for almost ruining it,” Jayce grimaces as he puts his glass down, “I have a lot to learn about omegas.”

“Eh, you didn’t,” Viktor only looks at Jayce to ensure that he wasn’t blaming himself, “You didn’t know…I can teach you but I don’t know half of it myself. It’s instinctual and borderline animalistic."

“Humans are animals, aren’t we?” Jayce watches Viktor, how one hand is always resting on Bronte while the other goes back to fiddling with utensils.

Viktor does that often, whether it be his hair or something else, he keeps his fingers occupied when he’s nervous. Maybe Jayce can make something for that, a necklace he can twist, a ring he can flick to make him feel more comfortable.

Viktor nods, it’s true. Their second sex dictated only so much of their lives, some instinctual things, the ones that were gentle and kind were easy to fall into. But there were things that could be controlled, instincts and rules that did not need to consume the conscious mind. Mel had reminded him of that in the hospital. 

“Jayce,” Viktor now meets his eyes, “You did not just help with the nest, you were a part of it. It-it wouldn’t have happened without you.”

Jayce is fighting a smile that he feels shouldn’t be there, his own cheeks are warming, “I mean you made it , I just-”

“Jayce,” Viktor interrupts him, eyes burrowing into him, “It might happen again and I…I’m going to want you to join me.”

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“That’s okay.”

“I’ll continue to embarrass myself,” Viktor is watching for Jayce to look unhappy, but he won’t, “I might cry again or…melt down. I could pull the clothes off your body I-”

“Viktor,” Jayce reaches across the table, his hand landing on Viktor’s, “That’s okay.”

I want that.

“I want to be able to help each other,” Jayce says instead, “Support one another. I like…” his jaw locks in place for a moment, “Being there for you, even though I’m afraid I’ll mess up and hurt you again.”

Their hands touch, Viktor flips his upside down to place their palms against one another. Skin against skin. Fool against fool. Natural. Their time together hasn’t been long but Viktor feels as though it’s timeless, of everyone who has walked into his life, Jayce feels like an everpresent being.

“You’ve never hurt me,” Viktor is quick to clarify, “And I trust that you wouldn’t.”

The pendulum has continued to swing, soft and slow, but that doesn’t erase how it’s moved until this point and there is no telling how long it can maintain such awkward stability. 

Viktor knows he’s not ready for a relationship and he’s sure that Jayce is doing all of this out of kindness still, but a part of his heart is gaining interest and that terrifies him. So much so that he wants to pull his hand away from Jayce, to pull his hand back and stomp out of the room after saying thank you.

But he can’t do that and he won’t because he’s been craving this for years. If Jayce wanted to do this, to wrap him around his finger just to throw him away, Viktor would accept the facade once more and find himself at the bridge. 

There is so much intimacy in almost everything that they do, Viktor isn’t sure if it's intentional or not. He’s not sure if he’s misinterpreting kindness, he doesn’t know. He hasn’t known a damn thing since Hector poisoned him.

They finish their breakfast as Bronte makes noises of being hungry herself, Jayce begins to clean up while Viktor unbuttons his shirt to feed her. He can’t get over how big she’s getting and he’s almost amazed that she was once nestled safely away in his womb.

“She’s getting big,” Viktor turns to look at Jayce, who washes the dishes with a grin, “Miss Medarda would be pleased.”

“Bronte needs a check up and to change her cast soon, right? Is that on Tuesday?”

“Yes, at nine a.m.” Viktor adds, “I would also like to…maybe try stopping by your work that day? Maybe I can…bring my resume or see if they need a secretary or something.”

Jayce didn’t know what to focus on first, the fact that his agoraphobic partn-friend, was planning on trying to venture into the world again or the fact that he wanted to start working already or the fact that he suggested, with all of his accolades, that he would work as a secretary or something.

“If you are ready for that,” Jayce hand dries a glass, he’s been doing things a little slower when Bronte is with them. He doesn’t want to move too quickly, he doesn’t want to break glasses around her or startle Viktor, “Our parental leave is at least two to three months though, you don’t have to go back so early.”

“Early?” Viktor looks down to Bronte, watching as her cheeks move, breastfeeding is natural yet incredibly strange, “No that’s incorrect. In fact I would say I am late if anything.”

Jayce nearly drops the glass and in two steps he’s at Viktor’s side, his hand on his shoulder as he locks eyes with him.

“You are not late. Without a timeline or timeframe, without knowing exactly what you need to do in this lifetime, without knowing when you will die, how can you possibly be running late? Compared to who?” 

“Our peers,” Viktor retorts, “Is death not a solid unchangeable point on a timeline? Is that not the end?”

“Well, it is but we don’t know when we’ll die,” Jayce finishes cleaning up and sits back down beside Viktor, leaning onto his elbow. He notices a mole between his breasts, one that was hidden between the binding in his dream. He reassures himself that he’s seen this one before, maybe another time when Viktor was feeding Bronte.

“Plus, we don’t know what comes after death, what if we get reincarnated?”

“And what if we get sent to another universe to be reborn again,” Viktor responds with an eye roll, he doesn’t mean to sound rude but to him it sounds ridiculous, “We decompose into the dirt, our atoms get dispersed into the world. Eh, that carbon cycle, law of conservation of mass.”

“Exactly!” Jayce grins, “Okay so that’s the end, so as long as you do what you want to do, before the end, you aren’t too late, right?”

Upon realizing that Jayce has trapped him with his logic he shakes his head as he smiles in spite of himself. The only thing Viktor could have said would have had something to do with knowing when the end is, when you are trying to kill yourself, but he feels the comment would fall flat.

Without a comeback Viktor must accept his motivational speech defeat before he finishes feeding Bronte. Jayce takes her to burp her before seeing what she needs before the three of them head into the living room.

Bronte is placed on the floor for tummy time, Viktor sitting on the floor beside her with a leg outstretched to make sure that she’s flipped at appropriate times and Jayce on the couch with the cell phone.

“Alright, let’s see this phone,” Jayce grabs it one more time, noticing that it’s a couple years old.

It’s incredibly dated from their college days, Jayce is sure he’d appreciate an upgrade.

The pendulum sways, the off rhythm reassuring them that they were home. Bronte lifts her head to look at it, even when Viktor flips her over, she still watches it. It’s a sound that will make her think of home, despite its imperfections.

Jayce leans back as he opens Viktor’s phone, there are new messages from Hector and Hector alone. It’s the only message thread and if Jayce wanted to, he could scroll back for ages, but he doesn’t. He knows he’s supposed to be deleting the text thread, but the most recent text drops his heart through his throat and into his stomach.

[ You think I’m fucking done with you?]

Automatically, Jayce clicks on Hector’s name and opens the text thread with the full intention to click on his contact and delete it, but he sees the string of recent messages Hector has sent.

It’s clear that Hector hasn’t forgotten about him, with the most recent message being from last night. Each one is vile and forces goosebumps to rise on his flesh, the malicious intent can be felt through the message. Jayce hates that when he reads them, he can actually hear Hector’s voice.

[Filthy fucking whore, are you fucking those two alphas?]

[You’re fucked.]

[I hate you.]

[I hate you so fucking much, I hope you die.]

[You’ll come crawling back or that mark will kill you.] 

[God I hope it kills you before I have to touch your disgusting body again.]

[Please, come home. I need you.]

[Kill yourself.]

Viktor’s hand falls over the screen of his phone, he’s pulled himself onto his better knee and is physically blocking the screen from Jayce. The frustration, the anger that Jayce had shown when he returned from Hector’s was growing on his face. Curling his lips up as his brows deeply furrow, it ages him. Viktor realizes that Jayce hadn’t just deleted the contact, that he too fell to Hector’s manipulation and began to read.

“Stop reading,” Viktor is ready to take the phone from Jayce’s hand, “I just needed you to delete them, not read them.”

“Viktor,” Jayce’s mouth is dry, his knuckles turning while he grips onto the phone, “I…we should save these.”

“What?” Viktor looks appalled, that was the last thing he expected Jayce to say, “Why?”

He doesn’t want to hold onto anything related to Hector, he wants to leave him behind. Viktor wants to run, feel the wind at his back as far away from that man as possible. The scars on his body won’t go away but he can distance himself, Jayce was teaching him this. So he can’t comprehend why Jayce would suggest keeping it, especially seeing how it started to make him upset as well.

“It doesn’t have to stay on your phone,” Jayce assures him, “We can save it to my computer but…we should-”

“No.”

“Wait, Viktor-”

“Destroy it, get rid of it,” Viktor puts his hand to his face and gently squeezes his temples, “Jayce he’s sent…terrible things I don’t want to risk seeing them again, I don’t understand why I’d keep them. I don’t want you to accidentally open them and see that. Why keep them? Why would you want to keep them?”

Viktor knows that Jayce isn’t the type to keep it just to read on a rainy day, he’s not like that. Hector was, but that itching in the back of his skull, that doubt that says Jayce can do whatever he wants remains. Hector’s uncanny and distorted echo remains trapped in his skull.

Jayce isn’t going to get interrupted again, so he blurts it out quickly, “Restraining order. I think this is proof to get one.”

And maybe evidence of a few charges.

“A restraining order,” Viktor says slowly, “A legal court document.”

“Yes.”

“Jayce,” Viktor takes a deep breath, holds it, and slowly exhales, “If I do that…he might come for Bronte. It’s best if we just…leave it alone.”

“But this is all proof of why he can’t and shouldn’t hav-”

“I’ve already made a police report! I already had to recount things once , Jayce. I want to move on,” Viktor’s face contorts, he’s upset and Jayce keeps pushing. “I’m an omega who had a child out of wedlock. I know we live in the modern age but some of the judges in Piltover are archaic. If anything, they’d look at those messages and equally see how unfit I am to be a parent.”

“You are more than fit though,” Jayce starts, “Viktor, I’m not going to let him get Bronte, you wouldn’t let him get to Bronte.”

Bile rises in the back of Jayce’s throat because he knows this conversation can end with him talking about money. That he can bring up having the money for a  fantastic lawyer that would help so Viktor wouldn’t have to speak much on the topic, that it could go through smoothly even if Hector tried to claim paternity.

He knows it would end the conversation, but it would put it at an absolute halt. Viktor wouldn’t add anything else to the conversation and he’d again feel the guilt of Jayce using his resources, Viktor would again be reminded of their divide in privilege. 

So he has to word it carefully, “Please,” Jayce puts the phone down and grabs onto Viktor’s hand, looking from Bronte back to him, “Just let me save it all. I won’t look at anything else, I’ll keep it locked away safely where no one will see it. It would only come out when and if we decide to do something.

“If it came down to it, we could find a lawyer that would wipe the floor with him. It’s just a precautionary measure, we don’t have to do anything right now.”

Jayce brings one hand to Viktor’s cheek, “Viktor. He won’t get Bronte, he can’t hurt you anymore.”

Viktor is weak to the warmth of Jayce’s hand against his face, he has been from the first time he cradled his cheek. He bites his lips softly, even though he wants to dig his teeth deeper into the flesh, to draw blood and escape.

“You..underestimate him,” Viktor looks from Jayce’s hold up to his eyes, “Jayce if I see him again, I could… I could just walk away from this and go right back to him.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“But I could ,” Viktor puts his hand to his chest, “the fact that there is a part of me that might want to, that thinks I deserve it.”

“Do you want that?”

“No, but he…” Viktor slowly reaches his hand to his own throat, “Ha..”

Lowering his hand, Jayce places it on Viktor’s shoulder, a reminder that he’s safe here. Still, it catches in Viktor’s throat, it’s hard to even speak about how Hector makes him feel. About the manipulation, about how he was fooled so easily and for so long.

“You were there, did you notice how his scent was.. Different at first?” Viktor is fighting for a way to say it.

Jayce nods, “I didn’t notice it much, at least not until I made it back to you. But it changed.”

“It’s…conditioned me, I think. I…I’m terrified of him. I want him gone… I…”

Viktor’s too kind hearted to say that he wants Hector to die, Jayce though, isn’t in the same mindset. 

“Want him dead?”

Viktor flinches, “I don’t want anyone else getting hurt .”

“Not even him?”

There’s a pause, because Viktor can’t say he wants him dead, that would be cruel when at the same time, he does want him destroyed. It’s conflicting, it’s not in his nature to wish harm upon someone else, but Hector wasn’t just a stranger on the street, “I want him to disappear, I want him destroyed, I want him to never matter to me or anyone else again - I am terrified of him.”

“Okay,” Jayce nods, he wants to place his lips on Viktor’s forehead again, to seep through his skull and into his head, to help soothe that brilliant brain of his, “I’ll delete it all.”

If he could make Hector’s existence vanish, he would do it without a second thought. He was dangerous and needed to be locked away, there must be a way to put him behind bars so Viktor never has to worry about this again.

Or sink him, blood and flesh, into the river for the fish to pick at.

The problem is, even if he dies, when he inevitably does die he will not take the damage with him. If it took away the bruises, the cuts and broken bones, would Bronte not dissipate as well? Viktor has to know that even if Hector goes away, it will not take the nightmares and memories, the physical reactions his body makes.

Jayce grabs the phone again, clicks on Hector’s contact and just as he’s about to delete it, Bronte makes a sound in tune with Viktor.

“Mmm!” Bronte says, causing the two to pause and look at her.

“Save it,” Viktor settles back down on the floor beside Bronte, “For her,” gingerly he picks her up and flips her back onto her back, his hand on her body as he leans over her. She smiles wide and coos as he smiles back, “Not for her to see, but as protection in case he tries…we don’t know what he’ll try to do in the future.

“Just…promise you won’t look at any more,” Viktor looks back at Jayce, “I don’t want you to picture them, when you think of me.”

“I swear, I won’t. They’ll be uploaded safely in an USB and then cleared from the phone. I’ll put it in a safe place in case we ever need it.”

“I hope we never do,” Viktor’s attention is back to Bronte, because her arms are moving in a way that she’s gained more strength in them, “Ty uz jsi silna, you’ve gotten strong.”

“Te has vuelto muy fuerte,” Jayce echoes softly as he looks at the two of them, “You’ve gotten very strong.”

Viktor looks up from Bronte, sees the softness in Jayce’s eyes and looks back down to her as his face flushes. His hair gently falls past his shoulders and she grabs it and tugs softly.

“Eh,” Viktor lays himself next to her on the floor, “You can hold it for now.”

Again Jayce grabs Viktor’s phone to work on downloading the message thread. It’s relatively simple and he doesn’t need to look at any thumbnails or the terrible things that are there. His heart hurts knowing that Viktor went through unspeakable things, he doesn’t want to know about Hector’s depravity but he wants to know how to help. Jayce Talis, always trying to fix things,  always trying to help; just now coming out of standing completely still. 

When it’s downloaded to a USB, Jayce deletes Hector’s message thread before blocking him before handing it back to Viktor. Viktor doesn’t sit up on the floor as Bronte still has a firm grip on his hair before he stares at the empty contact list.

“I deleted everyone’s number,” Viktor admits, “I was afraid of what he’d send if he ever got ahold of my phone.”

Jayce lays down on the floor on his stomach, “How do you feel about upgrading that phone now? Then I’ll add my number and my moms.”

Viktor nods, “Yes but…”

“But?”

Viktor clicks his tongue, “Let us hold off on the job. I have to double check my resume…likely try to get in contact with old references first.”

“And…” Jayce pushes.

That’s the thing with Jayce, he pushes Viktor ever so slightly, encouraging him to speak up. He’ll continue to do this, push and start making Viktor’s walls begin to crumble, but with the help of Viktor’s expressions, he knows why.

Two things would be a lot, he’ll have to talk to the person at the counter to talk about phones and plans and how to switch things. It’ll exhaust him, he’ll be out in public once more and going to Jayce’s work would just be more. More energy that he’s trying to store in a reserve.

“Too much in one day plus we have her appointment tomorrow…and maybe when we have completed the new brace,” Viktor motions to his leg, “I want to be on my best.”

Your best is wherever you are.

Leaving the house doesn’t sound that good, but having a phone and the ability to contact people sounds lovely. Pursing his lips he looks to Bronte, preparing to use the excuse that they shouldn’t go with her when he realizes that Bronte could come with.

The two of them could make it work.

Viktor takes a slow breath, lowering his phone to his chest before turning onto his side to look at Bronte and Jayce. He’s reminding himself that Jayce will be there along the way, along with their emotional support baby.

“We can do more work on your new brace tonight, do you plan on getting any taller?” 

“Eh, no I don’t plan on it, though you never know when I’ll hit a growth spurt.”

“Ah!”

“Eh,” Viktor turns to Bronte with a smile, “ Eh .”

“Don’t forget the head thing you do,” Jayce adds as he rolls onto his side as well.

“Head thing?”

“Eh,” Jayce copies Viktor a little too well, “Like that Bronte, your Tata has attitude,” Jayce puts his hand on Bronte’s belly and moves it softly, “ Lots of attitude.”

“Hah!” Viktor counters Jayce, “Your Papa likes to bring about this attitude, ” Viktor puts his hand to Bronte’s hand, she releases his hair before grabbing onto his finger. She smiles and looks between the two of them, watching as they speak both to each other and her.

“Are you ready for a day trip, Conejita?”

She coos and kicks her one foot, shifting the one that has her cast and Jayce turns to Viktor.

“Are you ready for a day trip,” Jayce hesitates for a split second, one he doesn’t think Viktor notices, “Viktor?”

But Viktor does notice the empty space, the pause where Jayce almost says something else. How his lips pursed to say a word that starts with a B before switching to V. It’s been days since it happened, since Jayce kissed his forehead and called him baby and Viktor wasn’t fully there but it still feels off.

Viktor’s heart flutters a bit as he gets up a little slower than usual, his leg and hip sore. This current brace isn’t enough but better than nothing. Grabbing his cane he leaves to prepare Bronte’s diaper bag as Jayce prepares Bronte, his heart continues to flutter as he grabs the bag and checks for the contents inside.

I thought he was going to call me baby, his cheeks pink and he pursed his lips because part of Viktor really wanted him to.

They go the moment they are ready, figuring that it will be less busy on a weekday right in the morning than later in the day. There aren’t any fancy releases happening either, so they don’t have to worry about a crowd at the door. If Viktor was able to simply do it on Jayce’s laptop, he would have, but Jayce suggests that they add Viktor’s number to his phone plan.

Logically it makes sense, it’s cheaper and unlocks a few perks. At first Viktor isn’t sure about the idea, the idea of sharing a phone plan with someone like Hector made his skin crawl. Relinquishing control over his own phone bill didn’t sound appealing, even if he was ‘paying Jayce back.’ Eventually, though, Viktor agrees but only if he can be placed on it as a co-owner which Jayce thought was the plan the entire time.

Viktor wants the same phone he had but newer while Jayce tries to sell him on the latest and best tech.

“This one has THREE camera lenses,” Jayce holds it up, “A ton of memory and can bend slightly and not break.”

“Now why would I need that?” 

“To take a thousand pictures of Bronte and the phone not breaking when you sit down.”

“Eh, I don’t think my ass is big enough to break the phone,” Viktor turns to look back towards his original idea, ready to counter that the updated version of his original phone had the same amount of camera lenses when Jayce speaks again.

“Your ass is certainly big enough to break a phone.”

Viktor’s mouth hangs open, speechless and Jayce realizes what he says and puts the bendable phone down and turns to Viktor to apologize.

“Listen-”

“And any angle could cause something so thin to break,” Viktor blinks, mischief twinkles in his eyes, “ Pregnancy certainly did cushion my tailbone.”

“Yes, you’re right-” Jayce had started to say before Vioktor added the final part of his sentence, “Wait no!”

“I do not have a cushion?” Viktor’s hand grabs his cane and he’s sure that Jayce’s other hand on Bronte’s car seat is keeping him from keeling over.

“I-you,” Jayce is stunned and at a loss for words, “That’s not-”

Jayce is stuck between a rock and a hard place, he can either tell Viktor he doesn’t have an ass which sounds offensive or he can tell him he does have an ass which he’d assume is a complement. Regardless, whatever he says will have him admitting to looking at Viktor’s ass and while he’s never looked at it with yearning or in admiration, he did notice it when taking measurements for Viktor’s new brace. Viktor did have a nice ass but Jayce couldn’t admit that, especially not in a phone store with their daughter right there.

But it’s all false confidence that Viktor is playing into because he is blind to everything but his imperfections. The only reason he plays into it is to watch Jayce blush and stumble a bit over his words, it’s innocent while also being a bit flirtatious despite knowing he shouldn’t. Just like the night before, Viktor knows it’s not right to play with Jayce like this.

It’s not something Viktor thinks he deserves.

Instead, Jayce laughs softly, that flustered feeling from before turns into kindhearted joy as he realizes that Viktor seems so much more relaxed than he did at the hardware place, “You are doing great, Viktor.”

Again the compliments send a shockwave up Viktor’s spine and he feels that it’s karmic justice for teasing Jayce. Quickly he grips his cane and heads back over towards his original choice.

“The upgraded version of my phone has almost everything that phone does, though it is not flexible. It also is more functional in terms of operating systems,” Viktor lets Jayce off the hook and Jayce couldn’t be more thankful for it.

There are only a few things on Viktor’s old phone that need to be transferred over, pictures that had managed to survive Hector’s angry purging and apps. The transfer is quick and when asked if he wanted to keep his old phone or recycle it, he decides to let it go. His attachment was to the phone number, that was what he had worked so hard for, even though that’s something that Hector likely still has. 

This time Jayce doesn’t leave Viktor in the store, he stays at his side through the process. Viktor longs for the day he’s making money again, where he has the ability to purchase things for Jayce in return or even purchase supplies to adjust the clock on the wall. It didn’t bother Jayce and Bronte liked it but Viktor couldn’t help but fix it to its original glory, to hear it act correctly for the first time in maybe decades. 

Back in the car, Jayce buckles himself in as he turns to Viktor, he looks so incredibly proud and Viktor can’t stand it. He knows that Jayce is about to give him praise and thinks it's a good idea to lift his hand up just as Jayce’s lips part.

“Vik-” Jayce stops talking as Viktor’s hand covers his mouth, but it doesn’t really stop him as he begins to laugh.

Viktor shivers as his hand vibrates slightly, Jayce’s warm breath and the tickle of his beard makes him pull his hand back, he’s not quick enough to pull it back fully as Jayce gently grabs onto his wrist.

“I-I’m not a dog,” Viktor stutters, Jaye’s hold is gentle and he doesn’t tug him forward, he just holds it between them, “You don’t have to give me praise.” 

Jayce’s hands are large enough to wrap around his wrist without issue, Viktor is sure he could do it to his ankles as well, he wonders if Jayce’s hands could obscure the meatier parts of his leg.

“It’s not like I’m saying ‘Good boy’ unless you’d prefer that-”

Viktor turns so fast to use his other hand to cover Jayce’s mouth, "Absolutely not!”

Jayce stares at him, grinning now under Viktor’s palm, his focus moving from the rosy blush on Viktor’s face down to his exposed sides. By now, he’s sure that Viktor’s large wounds have healed, he’s also sure that his mind might have melted just a little bit in the nest as he uses his free hand to move to Viktor's side.

Again the fireworks guide as Jayce gently pokes Viktor’s side. Automatically, Viktor smiles as he tilts slightly, still too stubborn to move his hand from Jayce’s mouth, “Jayce, that tickles.”

Viktor sees as Jayce’s eyes light up and feels how wide his smile grows under his hand, it’s at that point he realizes he’s made a dire mistake. Jayce shifts over the center counsel of the car, lets go of Viktor’s wrist as his hands reach to either of his sides. Viktor jumps in his seat with a slight shriek that erupts into laughter, Jayce doesn’t push too hard, he doesn’t torture him, but he does get a few good laughs out of Viktor before he starts tapping Jayce’s arm.

Jayce stops, but Viktor has shifted back against the door on his side and Jayce has unbuckled himself and is practically hanging over him with a grin. Viktor’s smile is wide and his laugh is the best thing he’s ever heard, catching a few snorts in there as well. 

“I’m going to be proud of you,” Jayce’s hand rests at his side, “and I’m going to let you know, I’ll fill you with praise and confidence. Anything that he denied you, I’ll make sure you get. Even if it’s as gentle as this or as silly as saying good job.

“You light up,” Jayce’s voice lowers as his smile goes from the enjoyment of tickling him, to that look of sincerity, the look of promises, “It’s quick and bright, like lightning-”

Later, Viktor would ask Jayce why he’ll randomly speak so poetically, he’ll use a combination of metaphors and similes in random parts of their conversions. Later, he’ll decide not to, because he doesn’t want it to stop.

Right now, Viktor is looking at a man who’s changed his life, who’s given him the motivation to live. The man who barreled forward and began to clear out a third path, a fourth. His heart beats hard against his chest, Viktor can’t escape it and those damn hormones make his eyes begin to water.

Jayce’s expression changes, his constant fear of hurting Viktor renewed as he thinks he might have accidentally humiliated him. That maybe he had pushed too far, Viktor looks a little disheveled and Jayce certainly ran his social battery already today. Pulling back he sits in his seat, his hands pulled onto his lap in an attempt to make himself smaller.

“Sorry.”

“For what?” Viktor adjusts himself in his seat, “Perhaps you should have worked in literature, your words are…”

Too much? Jayce thinks, because that’s what he’s been told before.

“Beautiful. They…have a strong impact on me that’s sometimes overwhelming but,” he pauses, pursing his lips for a moment, “I do not mind them.”

“I’ll be gentle with them then,” Jayce’s heart flutters.

That was a green light, a way for Jayce to know that Viktor does like them even when they can be a little too much. Jayce just has to be careful with them, though he’s still learning what exactly that means for Viktor.

“They already are gentle,” Viktor pressed on his eyes, ensuring that his tears didn’t trickle out, “And I think that’s why… you make it so easy to be me. To nurture my omega nature and take up space. How you are capable of it, I am unsure.”

Most of the things that Jayce says makes his heart feel lighter, his wounds feel not as deep as they heal, and are a little corny but that doesn’t mean they all do. Viktor can’t yet admit that some of those words create a spark in his middle that warms him from the inside out nor can he admit they make him flustered.

The trio head home, and Jayce puts a few phone numbers into Viktor’s phone. First he adds himself as ‘Jayce Papa Talis’ followed by Ximena ‘Abulea’ Talis, the two that he feels Viktor would use the most followed by Caitlyn, Vi, and Mel.

“Jayce,” Viktor looks at the added numbers, “Miss Medarda treated me as a patient, I don’t think it would be okay to have her phone number.”

“Her number is there to be her friend, not her patient. Plus she’s a specialty Doctor, it’s  not like she’s your primary,” Jayce makes a point, though Viktor feels there’s still something off about that, “She also is excellent at categorizing her relationships from work to social, plus she gave me permission!”

Jayce adds Viktor’s contact information into his own phone, before sending the few pictures of them and Bronte that he has. Viktor saves them instantly before turning to Bronte to take another picture of her, now that he has a working camera he might end up taking too many.

It didn’t matter though, he has a lot of photos to make up for.

“We should…” Viktor turns to look towards the back door, “Have people over one day, I would like to meet more of your friends.”

One day is in the distant future, they both know it but it remains unsaid. Viktor’s baby steps forward have been monumental, but even so he’s unsure how he will feel in a crowd. He wants to work, but he knows that if he gets a job with Jayce he’ll be able to work from home at least for a little bit.

Away from people, from the hustle and bustle. Away from the possibility of running into Hector, of feeling his hand around his throat once more. Instead he can be tucked away in the safety of what he now considers his home, a place where he made his first nest and has felt so incredibly seen.

“We can make that happen, just tell me how many people you are comfortable with. Admittedly, I don’t have a ton of genuine friends so you don’t have to worry about twenty people in the house.”

Viktor smiles softly before he opens the message feature on his phone and responds to Jayce’s barrage of photos. This is the start of a text thread, of a conversation that will go back and forth between them.

[Eh, we’ll see when the time comes.]

To which Jayce responds.

[Whenever you are ready, no rush 🙂]

Bronte stirs and Viktor puts the phone onto the table for its battery to run dry as he goes to care for his daughter. As he picks her up he feels that familiar pressure in his lower back, a haunting feeling that he knows will only get worse with time. Next time he’s at the doctor he’ll mention it because he’s allowed to now. He’d had surgery as a kid, he remembers his parents working long and hard to pay off that debt.

Jayce watches as Viktor picks her up and heads into the living room where he’ll give her tummy time, feed her, and overall just spend time with her. Jayce on the other hand has work to do, he’s behind and he has his own string of text messages and missed calls.

[Call me now]  

While the man who messages him is his boss in a way, he has no hold over whether or not he can work in the company. The only way he’d be able to do that, would be if he convinced Ximena that her son was incapable, which wasn’t completely off the table at this point.

Jayce takes his work laptop and heads up to the workshop, sits down and makes the call to his boss.

“I’m on paternity leave,” Jayce reminds him.

“Talis, it’s not even your kid , you haven’t adopted it. Our contract doesn’t state you can take off just to watch someone else’s kid or whatever bullshit you are doing,” the boss snaps, “I’m tired of pushing things back.”

“For starters, I never signed a contract,” Jayce feels a bitter taste in his mouth, because he never uses his status, “And my mother gave you direct approval of this, correct? Also your stupid project doesn’t have a fucking timeline, no one is dying on the streets because the box hasn’t been upgraded yet.”

“Oh please, Jayce,” he laughs, “It’s not like you were a star employee in the first place. I found your little suicide letter in your desk looking for the plants by the way, maybe that’ll be enough to convince your mother that this is too much for you.”

Color drains from Jayce’s face, his mouth goes dry, “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“I can send you a picture of it, you signed it yourself…Jayce Talis.”

“Are you blackmailing me?”

“I’m simply making sure that my employees are doing their jobs, you have a high paying salary and I want to make sure it goes to someone who works.”

It enrages Jayce because he doesn’t even like this job, it never was a job that he wanted, but it’s one that he needs. He needs it so he can help Viktor get a job, he needs a source of income, he needs to follow through with his family name.

Jayce needs to make his father proud.

“I’ll send it to you by midnight.”

“Wonderful,” his boss’s voice is a little lighter, “You send it in and I’ll shred this. Unless you have more you, for some reason, left at work?”

A heaviness forms on his chest as the words sink in, they burrow in and corrode the feeling of joy he’d been experiencing that morning. The fireworks behind his eyes have left nothing but ash and smoke, debris falling down from the sky to choke birds and burn the leaves of plants.

His eyes drift over to a drawer that rarely opens, it’s long and will only open if pulled hard enough. It’s where he has stored countless letters, a collection that he’s never remembered to destroy and has only tossed.

It’s nothing like Viktor’s lockbox, it’s not a place of happy memories and things he wants to cherish. It’s the moments where the world let him down and his mind betrayed him and instead of ever letting them go, he hid them away.

Letter after letter, knowing that Viktor would one day be in here working beside him he knows he needs to empty it. He can’t let Viktor see them, to see this weakness when he’s supposed to be strong and sturdy.

Jayce can’t let Viktor fear that he’ll lose him.

“No,” Jayce responds as he reaches for the drawer, “There isn’t.”

When the call ends, Jayce throws his phone onto his desk with a growl. Jayce doesn’t remember writing that note, he doesn’t remember writing half of them. He just remembers finding them later on, sitting in a place where someone would find them. That one could have been old, he doesn’t remember writing one before he went to the bridge. Jayce is sure that was fully on impulse.

Before Viktor and Bronte came into his life, if his mother found out about his suicidal ideation’s she’d make him leave work and throw him into inpatient, Jayce doesn’t even know what she’d do now. With two other bodies in the home, two additional lives, she could separate them.

The air in the room feels thick and muddy, the shirt he’s wearing feels too tight as he tugs at his collar. Ximena could send him anyway, moving in herself for a bit in order to help support Viktor and Bronte but wouldn’t that be detrimental?

Wouldn’t that erase it all? What would Bronte do without Jayce’s scent? What would Viktor do without him there? He knows that they aren’t completely dependent on them and he knows that they shouldn’t be in the long term, but he also knows right now they need him.

They need him and he can’t fail.

He can’t fail.

“I won't fail, I swear it,” Jayce croaks as his legs grow weak and he lowers himself to the ground, “I won’t.”

How many failures has he suffered since college? Since he tried to fit into boxes that he didn’t belong in, tried to do whatever was asked of him despite wanting more. This was something Jayce wanted to do, to create and nurture, to act somewhat functional.

The void whispers to him but Jayce can’t entertain her call, that’s what got him here in the first place.

Jayce can’t breathe, he can’t let them down.

Notes:

Question: Do you think that was a dream? A flashback?? A weird overlapping of timelines??
👀

 

Made a thread on twit for all of the art and will update if there is anymore.
I am grateful and am so happy my work is loved.

https://x.com/corkyno/status/1952484550887845923

Chapter 13: Heavy

Notes:

This chapter wrestled me to the ground and almost won.
I will continue to try and update weekly/bi-weekly but I did return to my job this week, so we will see how much energy I have as I readjust to my routine again.

 

Also, Viktor thinks about his transition at the start of this chapter, please remember that EVERYONE has a different experience during their transition journey and there is no right or wrong way to do it.

Viktor is sitting on the couch feeding Bronte, he’s impressed with himself with how comfortable he’s become with breastfeeding. There had been a time when all he could think about was top surgery but kept putting it off as he went through college, as he got degrees and minors that he wouldn’t use until now.

There had been an urgency before, a self loathing and hatred that nearly overroad the dysphoria he’d been experiencing. While he still had it now, while this body made him a bit uncomfortable, it was a little less. The rush diminished and he started to see them less and less as he had before.

When he stops breastfeeding, he knows they will shrink and he hopes they’ll go back to their normal size and at that point he’ll determine his next step. It feels a little wrong, a little like he’s not doing this right, but for some odd reason, breastfeeding is important to him. Of course, a fed baby was a happy baby and they had the money to formula feed if they needed to, but these quiet moments meant something to him, at least for now.

Once the hormones wear off, he’s wondering if he’ll still feel this way, if there will be the feeling of being conflicted about it or not. Something he had been so sure of before, suddenly tossed up into the air. Unpredictable and uncertain.

There will be restrictions after surgery and he knows it will take time to even begin the process; a consultation and all of the approval from insurance when he gets a job, a plan for Bronte. He knows that he won’t be able to lift her for a while and she’ll just get heavier, which would leave more to Jayce. 

This probably is a conversation that he’ll have to have with Jayce when the time comes, whenever that may be. If it’s six months from now, a year from now, or five, he knows the time will come. He's sure of it, but he can’t predict it.

Maybe when I’m done having children? Or one more? Or after I’m established at a new job?

The thought is fleeting because that leaves even less of a beacon of light to walk to, it leaves too many doors open and adds miles to a walk he’s already struggling to make. More children would mean healing and falling in love, it would mean intimacy and having sex. Of another person over him, as Hector chokes and holds him down.

Viktor shivers and chases the thought away, he’s not ready to think that far down. If he wants more children, if he even can have them, or if he could find someone to love him for all of his faults. Right now, he can only focus on the immediate, the small steps that progress him forward. The smallest steps he can take is start taking his testosterone when he’s ready again, maybe once he starts work and can’t pump as frequently.

Bronte finishes eating and Viktor burps her, humming to her before they start to play. Placing his hand on her tummy he speaks to her with a grin, tickling her softly. Her smile is gummy and her limbs flail with excitement as he interacts with her. Whatever Viktor does, Bronte will love him either way even when he can’t love himself. Viktor’s mind wanders transition to just focusing on his daughter, whispering to her as she looks at him. There’s so much love there, he’s never felt something like this. It’s here that he hears the heavy thump above him. 

“Jayce?” Viktor calls, looking up at the ceiling as he attempts to picture where on the second floor he’s located above him.

It’s silent upstairs, but Viktor shivers with unease. It didn’t sound like the crashing of furniture or the dropping of a tool. If that had been the case he would have heard Jayce or at least heard his reaction to his call.

The house is silent, too silent. 

And then Viktor hears it, a bang followed by a crash that makes him jolt where he sits. It’s sudden, it’s not normal and certainly not a part of any project he had seen Jayce working on. Something is wrong and Viktor fears that Jayce might be unraveling or that something has happened.

He can’t leave Bronte alone while she’s awake, so he grabs the sling and sits back down on the couch to get her onto his back. He’s used to wearing her in the front and he’s afraid of going up the stairs with her on his back, but he’ll be sure to be safe.

“Jayce?” 

The thrashing from the workshop continues and Viktor hurries the best he can, moving one foot in front of the other with his cane before carefully ascending the stairs. He curses himself for not being able to move faster. He hears the sound of wood cracking, of a heavy impact, as he approaches the door.

Viktor lifts his hand to the doorknob, but he’s scared, he’s scared of the way that Jayce is acting behind that door. His feet feel heavier, the loud sounds reminiscent of his unpleasant life with Hector, his body is trying to get him to take flight or freeze. But he can’t do that, he can’t run from Jayce and he refuses to freeze again in front of him if he can help it.

“I am coming in,” Viktor announces.

Stopping his mind from spiraling he opens the door with a little more force than he expected from himself, it swings out to the side but doesn’t hit the wall.

There’s a mess on the workshop floor, Jayce is sitting around a pile of papers, some torn and some fully intact, there are envelopes strung about the room. Some say Ximena, others say Caitlyn, Mel and I’m sorry. 

There’s a drawer on the ground, torn from the hardwood desk that it sat in. The sliders are broken and parts of the wood have been hit hard enough that the wood is exposed under the varnish. 

And in that mess, sits another.

Jayce doesn't hear Viktor enter the room, he doesn’t register that the door is open and he can barely get a breath in. He’s hyperventilating as his hands reach for paper, for each letter as he tears them apart.

There’s only one thought in his mind, there can’t be any more evidence of this. Jayce had finally thought that the void and her sticky tendrils had just released him from her grip but now he was thrust into darkness.

“Jayce?” Viktor steps in slowly, hoping that his cane or his voice alert Jayce of his presence, “What is happening?”

His voice isn’t enough to stop Jayce from losing himself deeper, reaching from his puddle of papers he grabs onto the trash can and pulls it over. Quickly he begins to pick up the pieces and toss them inside, not daring to look at the words. Jayce’s plans to light them on fire, to ensure that nothing but ash is left.

They have to be destroyed and it doesn’t matter if the windows aren’t open, it doesn’t matter that he’s inside of a house. There can’t be evidence, he can’t continue to sabotage himself. While all he can think about is supporting Viktor and Bronte, he’s not able to think about why lighting the trashcan on fire would be dangerous. All he wants to do is help them, but he’s failed to notice they are right there, that the consequences of an unkept fire in a room of wood and paper could be devastating. 

Getting up Jayce dashes to the desk, pushing books and tools over until he can find a lighter before going back to kneel beside the trash can. Viktor takes a few steps closer, hoping to again reach him with his voice, Jayce’s back is to him now, putting him at a larger disadvantage for catching his attention. 

From the start, Viktor had trusted Jayce with his life and he will continue to do so, but right now he can see that he’s not okay. Whatever Jayce is seeing isn’t him, he’s instead shadowed behind a deep fog that he must clear first. Fire spreads quickly and while a little fire could probably be handled between the two of them, Bronte was here.

Raising his voice, Viktor tries again, “Jayce, that is not safe.”

It falls on deaf ears as Jayce holds the lighter, his hands shaking as he pulls a piece of paper to its flame. Viktor clears his throat, he needs to be as loud as he possibly can, he wishes that he was quicker.

“Jayce! Bronte is here,” Viktor continues forward, tapping his cane harder on the floor in hopes that it would startle him. 

Still nothing.

Viktor is reminded now that his scent is the strongest it’s ever been, that Jayce had nurtured it into something that could be felt. He’d never used it this way before, but he takes a tip from Jayce and allows himself to flood the room just as he makes it in front of him. 

Jayce lights the paper, it catches and quickly begins to burn before he drops it into the can. The contents light instantly and begin to grow, so much so that Viktor wonders if something flammable was in the trashcan.

“Jayce!” Viktor put his hand onto the top of Jayce’s head, “Bronte!”

Although Viktor’s hand just rests on Jayce’s head, Jayce tilts his head backwards in a reflex, his eyes pulled from the burning can to see Viktor. The fog clears and for a moment, he’s no longer alone with his erratic thoughts. He’s frozen until he can smell lavender, it’s brief before quickly being overtaken by the smoke coming from the can.

Standing up quickly Jayce starts to look for his fire extinguisher, it takes a moment but he finds it in the mess he had created. The two make brief eye contact, enough for them to communicate their plan without a single word. Viktor leaves the room with Bronte and Jayce waits just a moment before he puts the fire out.

The room fills with the smoke but Jayce sprays the can once more, for good measure, before stepping back and coughing. Waving away the smog, Jayce drops the canister on the floor and watches as the room is coated in a white haze, the fire is out but the can is destroyed. Half of the letters are still scattered on the floor, he hadn’t realized how many letters he’d written until now. 

That throughout his life, he’d thought about ending it more than once.

That the people he wrote letters to never changed.

He scolds himself before he heads towards the hallway, he needs fresh air but he also needs to explain himself to Viktor. When he sees he’s not standing in the hallway, Jayce’s panic returns and it’s nearly all consuming. 

Fuck , Jayce runs his hand through his hair, fuck fuck fuck.

“Viktor?” Jayce calls out, louder than he should have, “I promise I wasn’t trying to light the house on fire, I can explain I…”

He’s speaking into the hallway, hoping that Viktor hears him, hoping that Viktor understands that he wasn’t trying to kill them all. The first room he goes to is their bedroom Jayce heads into their room, where Viktor is opening a window, Bronte is awake on his back but doesn’t seem perturbed by anything.

“You need to air out the workshop,” Viktor says, turning slowly before he heads to the bed to take Bronte off, “If I go in there, I may have an asthma attack.”

The moment Viktor sits on the bed, Jayce is at his side, before Viktor has the chance to start unwrapping Bronte his hands are tightly grasped in his. 

“Jayce-”

“I promise,” Jayce pleads, “I’d never do anything to hurt you or Bronte. I swear. ”

“Jay-”

“I’m not like that,” Jayce’s grip tightens a little bit, his chest feels heavy, he feels disgusted with himself, “I’m not.” 

Gently, Viktor tries to pull a hand back and Jayce instantly interprets it as fear. Dropping Viktor’s hand he drops himself to the floor and shrinks upon himself, he’s trying to take up less space. To not look intimidating, to not send Viktor over the edge again the last time he came in stronger. 

“Sorry,” Jayce brings his hands upwards to his face, he doesn’t know what to do.

Again, Viktor releases his scent, it’s warm and welcoming before he reaches forward and places his hand on Jayce’s cheek.

“Sit with me,” Viktor gently strokes his thumb against Jayce’s beard, it’s soft against his skin, “It’s okay.”

While it’s reassuring to hear, Jayce is petrified and looks up to Viktor with eyes that are starting to water. He’s unraveling and he hates it, he’s supposed to be supportive and reassuring, he’s supposed to be helping Viktor. Sitting beside Viktor would mean he’d have to face the fact that he’s everything he didn’t want to be.

“Please?”

Viktor’s hand is soft, guiding his face upwards to look at him, he doesn’t look scared he just looks concerned. Swallowing hard, Jayce gets up and sits next to him on the bed, he shrinks his shoulders inwards and stares down at the floor. As he moves, Viktor is unwrapping Bronte from his back and gently placing her onto the bed beside them, pushing things away from her to keep her safe.

There’s a silence between them, one that Bronte breaks with a coo, “Aaaah!”

Reaching his hand out, Viktor places it onto Jayce’s head and gently guides him down onto his lap. It’s not something that would last too long, it would grow uncomfortable quickly, but it’s something his mother had done when he was upset. Plus Viktor could release more of his scent and get it to him faster. 

Jayce doesn’t believe he deserves this, Viktor’s touch nor his lap. He’s shocked beyond belief, but he doesn’t resist Viktor, he can’t. Following his guide until his head is resting on Viktor’s thighs. 

Just as Jayce had done for Viktor, he intertwines long slender fingers into his thick hair,  “Close your eyes.”

Without a second thought, Jayce does as he is told, despite the anxiety that continues to wash over him. All he can think about is how stupid he had been along with the deafening echo of his boss’s threat ringing in his ears. But even so, as his mind thrashes violently against a rocky shore, Viktor’s movements are slow.

They pull through his hair and twist slightly, leaving a hidden curl or wave before venturing to his scalp and gently scratching it. Viktor’s nails are longer than Jayce’s, they’ve grown quickly. Jayce never really looked at Viktor’s nail length before, but sometimes he pictures the broken nails on the back of the bedroom door.

It’s not a thought for now, for now he focuses on Viktor’s scent and the way he moves his fingers in different size circles. Jayce’s breathing begins to calm albeit slowly, it helps soothe his racing mind and eases a tear from his eye that begins to drip downwards. Viktor, who’s ever attentive, uses his free hand to gently wipe it away. 

Bronte makes another noise, one of interest, one that demands a little more of Jayce’s attention. His little girl, his conejita. Jayce moves a hand out towards her and she grips onto his finger firmly. Together they ground him, they shrink the size of the world from an expansive realm of people to disappoint, to this singular room.

They fall into a silence that even Bronte respects.

“I know you did not mean to hurt anyone,” Viktor speaks softly and Jayce thinks it’s more than he deserves, “You didn’t want the house to burn down or scare us.”

A ball has formed in Jayce’s throat, he only partially comprehends Viktor’s words as his heart is still rapping against his ribcage.

“I swear, I’d never…I want to help…”

“Jayce,” Viktor’s finger falls upon Jayce’’s lips, tender and kind, “Slow down,” Viktor’s free hand moves to fall onto Jayce’s chest and how quickly it beats, “We will talk in a moment.”

Jayce’s other hand lifts up and grabs onto Viktor’s, cocooning it between his flesh and beating heart. The silence almost hurts and he ends up gripping Viktor’s hand as he tries to steady his breathing, the silence could kill him. Viktor doesn’t stop running his hands through his hair and Bronte doesn’t release her grip on his hand. He shifts his legs onto the bed, listening as Viktor starts to hum under his breath and Bronte coos again.

Filling the silence helps, it pulls him out of the tunnel he was trapped in, and soon his heart begins to slow. They feel it together as it falls into a normal rhythm just as his breathing steadies. Jayce finally feels centered, other than hearing the breeze he can feel it against his cheek now, against any exposed flesh.

The workshop needs to be aired out , Jayce remembers.

Because although his mind has slowed a bit, his normal rate of thinking is faster than a rocket launch. Jayce decides that he should go and do what Viktor told him, opening that window might make it easier for him to talk to Viktor about it. Opening the window would help remedy the situation, it wouldn’t undo it, but it could help. As he sits up, though, Viktor’s hand gently pushes him back down. 

Pursing his lips, Jayce is ready to protest when he looks up to see that Viktor is nearly pouting and he can’t actively go against him. 

“What happened?”

There it was, the question that Jayce didn’t want to answer, the one he might have been secretly trying to avoid. The one he wanted to have time to think of a good reason to justify his actions to Viktor. He can’t lie to Viktor.

“I preface this by saying that I am also starting therapy again,” Jayce clarifies, putting his hand up, “but I’ve been suicidal in the past.”

“Ah, I never would have guessed,” it’s sarcastic and Viktor is hoping that Jayce doesn’t just leave it at that, “How did we stumble upon each other recently?”

Thankfully Jayce continues after a brief pause. Viktor’s rebuttals would have made him laugh if the situation had been different,  “I’ve written countless letters, I guess I left one at work. My boss found it… If I don’t get this work done, he’s going to show it to Ma. If that happens, I’m screwed.”

“That’s incredibly illegal,” Viktor raises a brow, “Wouldn’t your mother understand if you explained that it was older?”

“Wouldn’t matter, she’s tried to put me in inpatient treatment before, I don’t want that to happen, I can’t let that happen,” Jayce is starting to rile up again.

“If you need it, why can’t you let it happen?” 

It’s a loaded question for Jayce, admitting that his brain just doesn’t work the same way everyone else’s does, admitting to needing help. Admitting to being anything other than the perfect son that he wants to be, needs to be. 

“I don’t need it- at least not right now. I’m nowhere near the point I was when I wrote any of those letters,” his eyes plead with Viktor to believe him, this isn’t something that he’d lie about. He’d only lied once, right?

“Ma knows that I’m restarting my meds and that I’m working on it- but something like that might make her think otherwise,” he takes a deep breath before adding, “Plus, I can’t leave you here with Bronte alone. I can’t do that to either of you.”

Viktor gently grabs onto Jayce’s chin and looks at him sternly, “If you need it, you should go. I can handle it. You can’t neglect yourself because you think we will die without you. It would be difficult, yes, but I’m fully capable of keeping us alive until you return.”

“But what if you want to nest again and I’m not there? Or you have a nightmare or-“ Jayce is thinking of every possible reason that he wouldn’t be able to leave, any excuse that would justify his avoidance.

“Or a meteor strikes the house? Or an elephant appears in the living room? Jayce, I have dealt with things alone before. The struggle would be temporary, what matters is you feeling better,” Viktor’s voice is gentle, but they hit Jayce hard, “If you needed to go someplace, I would understand.”

“Bu-“

“You have helped me enough to the point I feel- ah, that I know, that I can do it. I’d rather you feel better, then try to set the house on fire again,” Viktor’s voice lifts a little at the end of his sentence, “You deserve to feel better as well.”

Viktor fully was willing to take on the challenge if it meant helping Jayce.

Jayce can’t explain how comfortable Viktor’s lap is or the softness of his hands against his chin. Viktor handled giving birth alone, in a disgusting apartment, and then thrown out into the streets. Not only that, but Viktor is a self made man, independent and resilient. He’s only shared with Jayce parts of his background, but from what he’s heard, he was pretty self-sufficient until Hector. 

Hearing that Jayce has helped Viktor feel the confidence to be alone is worth its weight in gold. While he never plans on leaving Viktor, of abandoning him on the streets in the rain or moving him into a rat infested apartment, he still feels weary of it. 

It’s because he cares, it’s not a sign of foreboding doom to feel this type of anxiety.

“I don’t  think I need it, at least not right now. But I…feel better knowing you would be okay with me leaving,” It’s reassuring to hear, but just barely.

“Not just for that Jayce,” Viktor let go of his chin before putting his hand back to Jayce’s chest, “For anything you need, you should go: work, friends, anything. Do not let us hold you back.”

“The only thing you’ve ever held me back on was jumping off a bridge,” Jayce smiles, why he’s not sure before gripping Viktor’s hand, “You’ve never held me back, both of you. You’ve only made me better.”

“Eh, I had nothing to do with that,” Viktor tilts his head slightly in Bronte’s direction, “It… must be difficult having such expectations placed on you, having to fill shoes you don’t quite fit.”

This conversation allowed Viktor to put a few pieces together and make a few assumptions. At first Viktor was weary but had been open minded about Jayce’s struggle despite his privileged position in society. Getting closer to him only made it clear how much of a perfectionist he was about certain aspects of his life. Jayce holds high expectations for himself, higher than those of others for what reason Viktor can only assume is because of the weight of the Talis name.

For a man so proud of carrying it, he appears to struggle underneath the load.

“It…” at first Jayce almost denies it, but it’s freeing to finally admit it out loud, “it is.”

Viktor returns his hand to Jayce’s hair and gives him the space to speak, listening intently. 

“It’s constant, damn near suffocating. I… hate it. This job tortures me, it’s not what I want in my life. I want to create things that directly improve the lives of others. I loved being here with both of you, of changing Bronte’s terrible smelling diapers and being able to work on your brace. Working with you on it has been amazing.

“I’ve always wanted to do that. To help people, improve lives. But I’m just stuck in Research and Development working on designing boxes with scent windows, in an endless cycle of aesthetics.”

“Have you told Ximena?”

“She knows what I want,” Jayce closes his eyes, “she’s just…worried I’ll become manic. That I’ll ruin everything including myself and I have to wonder if that’s why she never told me about her plan to open the new branch.”

Jayce still needed to ask her about that, he just hadn’t been able to find the right time. No time ever seemed right, when she’s here with Bronte it’s not the right time and a text seemed less than personal, a phone call was awkward and he wanted to see her face to face.

He had to ask.

The pedestal he was born onto has always forced Jayce into a box. To hide away his needs and wants in order to keep up a facade to those around him. If he’s vulnerable, if his illness does rear its head, he is less able to do what he wants.

“Let’s show her,” Viktor smiles softly, almost untraceable, “that you can handle your dreams, that you will adapt and improve - evolve.” 

“I… hate how you’re recognizing that I have one in the first place,” Jayce admits, “I never wanted you to see me like that.”

“Respectfully, other than the bridge, it wasn’t hard to put together,” Viktor leans forward a bit more, “you can tell me these things. We're a team now, correct?”

Jayce lifts himself into his elbows slightly, pushing them closer. He can feel Viktor’s breath, if he just inched in a little closer, he could kiss him.

“Partners.”

“Partners and parents,” Viktor’s smile is soft, almost untraceable, he knows Jayce well enough to know that it only helps a little bit, “I don’t expect anything other than you, Jayce. I don’t want you to feel like you are drowning. You can talk to me about anything.”

They became a team the moment Jayce’s arms wrapped around Viktor’s waist. Neither  want them to be codependent on one another- Viktor’d been so dependent on Hector and it allowed his life to spiral, it’s not something he’d like to repeat again.

“Is your boss the one I would interview with?” Viktor will have something to say to him if it is.

“Ah, he’d be one of them, I’m not sure how far Ma got in building that branch, ” Jayce hums, calling Ximena Ma as though Viktor has been part of the family for years.

“You did a good job of destroying the letters, perhaps burning them wasn’t necessary?"

“I couldn’t risk you seeing them,” Jayce sighs, in retrospect it wasn’t his smartest move, but he couldn’t see anything other than ensuring they were gone, “I was afraid.”

“Why?”

“Of looking incapable of being Bronte’s father, or being your… partner.”

‘Partner’ sounds a little different in this context, each of their hearts flutters just a bit. But it doesn’t stop Viktor from wanting Jayce to feel confident, he wouldn’t want anyone else to be with him on this journey.

“You are more than capable,” Viktor reassures him, “it is destined.”

“Mister ‘where is the end point’ believes in destiny?” Jayce teases, rolling his eyes but only for fun.

“I believe that you were meant to be her father, since the moment you held her. If that is not destiny, then I will call it something else,” Viktor would call it something else, but he doesn’t actually think there is a better word for it.

It’s destiny.

“Viktor I want you to know, if the chance ever came up, I’d adopt her legally. I know that… would involve everything you want to avoid,” the earnestness in Jayce’s eyes and voice is sometimes too much for Viktor to bear.  Sometimes Jayce speaks in absolutes but maybe he does as well, “But I want you to know that I’d do it.”

It would be beautiful for Bronte to have another father officially. To have two parents, protected by law. Both who love her with every cell of their body, who’d do anything for her and guide her through life. That’s the dream Viktor has always had for his children, for those fantastically make-believe babies, it’s even stronger now that Bronte is real.

“I know,” Viktor wishes that he was brave enough to do it, “And…I hope that you can one day.”

Viktor wasn’t ready to stand in court, to face Hector and go through a legal battle. There was so much evidence of his violence and inability to be a fit parent. It would be a sure win especially with Jayce being there to help support him, failing would be impossible. 

Even then, Viktor felt like a coward because he never wanted to see Hector again. He wanted his memory to fade away from him and disappear, to become so miniscule in his life that Hector wouldn’t have a second thought later down the line when he’s challenged for custody.

Time would continue to pass, Hector would start to care less but even then- Bronte would get older. She’d age if he waited too long and she’d be aware of whatever legal battle there would be if Viktor’s wishful thinking failed.

Time can heal wounds but Viktor isn’t sure it can diminish evil.

“And maybe we can make your official last name Talis too, if you want.”

A shiver runs up Viktor’s spine as he sits up straighter, the gift of a last name, of something to be remembered by. It wasn’t to say that Viktor wasn’t someone to be remembered before, his old friends truly did think about him often, his old professors would think back to his brilliant mind. Viktor just couldn’t imagine it.

“Hah,” Viktor takes his finger and puts it onto Jayce’s forehead, gently pressing him back down onto his lap once more, “What if I like OfZaun?”

Viktor doesn’t, he never did. It never did anything for him and he’d never had a sense of pride attached to it.

“Easy, Viktor Talis OfZaun,” Jayce smiles wide, revealing the gap in between his teeth, “Viktor OfZaun Talis?”

Even if that sounds ridiculous, he wants to hear Jayce say it again. 

“Do you hand your last name out to anyone?” he squints.

“No,” Jayce chuckles, the heaviness upon his chest feels a little lighter, “Just the ones who’ve had my daughter. Which happens to be you.”

Again, Jayce manages to pull a smile from Viktor, even if it’s small. Even if he’s trying to hide it with everything in him but Jayce notices and promises himself he’ll never miss a look of joy on Viktor’s face. 

“Let me help you catch up on your work,” Viktor glances towards the window, remembering that the workshop still needed to breathe.

”I’m uh, a little behind. I was a lot-a-behind before we met so…” Jayce looks away with a sheepish look, “It’s going to look like a lot.”

”It’ll help me get ready for a return to work,” Viktor adds, “give me some mental stimulation.”

“Shouldn’t we finish your new brace first?” 

Viktor taps the top of his brace, “This one still works, let’s focus on easing your burden.”

Facing his boss still makes Jayce anxious, ruining Viktor’s progress still terrifies him, but this conversation helps diminish some of those feelings. A new feeling bustles within him, the chance to be able to work alongside Viktor in a way they hadn’t had a chance to yet, along with support and help without any strings attached.

“Let me air out the workshop,” Jayce finally sits up from Viktor’s lap, “I’ll show you what I’ve been working on and we’ll see what we can do.”

“Thank you,” Jayce leans down and for a split second, Viktor thinks Jayce is going to kiss him.

Instead, with that charming smile of his, Jayce leaned past Viktor to kiss Bronte on the forehead. She smiles and kicks her legs, one more so than the other, she’s wide awake and happy as a clam. 

“Heya, bunny girl. I didn’t mean to scare you, okay?” Jayce gives her a soft tickle to her abdomen, the gums of her teeth are visible as she opens her mouth to look at him.

Her eyes are still golden like Viktor’s and he hopes that never changes.

“Hah, she wasn’t scared at all,” Viktor lays back on the bed, rotating his body to lay with her, “she just wanted you to be alright.”

Viktor speaks for both of them, “Do you need help?”

“Nah, I’ve got it,” Jayce grins, “plus I’m not risking adding to either of your medical files if you breathe something in.”

Viktor rolls his eyes, “Consider my lungs clear.”

“Let’s bring in your old medical records when we go in for your final check up. You still have a final one with Mel before you’re just with a primary? When was the last time you had a general check up?”

“Eh, College?” Viktor fails to mention it was because he’d been hospitalized for a nasty bout of pneumonia in both of his lungs.

“Sounds like it’s time then, how about the dentist? The optometrist?”

“Jayce,” Viktor stared at him through his lashes, “allow us to think about you for once. You can quiz me and worry over my health once we finish these projects.”

“I’m not a fan of the spotlight.”

“I swear I’ve seen you in product commercials or on a billboard…” 

“That was once and my mom insisted, you also can’t find it anymore. It’s like a lost internet file,” Jayce grimaces, it wasn’t one of his proudest moments.

Jayce had also checked before, it doesn’t pop up when you search the product anymore nor is the video saved on any platform he knows of. Ximena probably had it saved in a personal collection somewhere as a proud parent.

“Give me twenty minutes,” Viktor pulls his phone from his cardigan pocket and begins to search.

“It’s going to take more than twenty minutes for me to fix that room,” Jayce hopes this means that Viktor will take just as much time as well.

“I’ll send you the time it takes for me to find it,” Viktor sets a timer and checks the clock, he’s taken this challenge.

Laughing, Jayce leaves to air out the workshop. First he opens every window in the room along with a few others in the other rooms, as well before he turns on a few fans. The trashcan is destroyed, melted and burned, picking it up he can see how close the fire had been from burning right through the can. He’s not shocked how fast a fire can move  but he is impressed with the can holding up even for a bit.

A pit doesn’t form in his stomach, but he does realize how dangerous it is to hold his anxieties inside. He feels better having talked to Viktor about it, not cured or fixed, but better. It wasn’t easy being vulnerable but it was his turn.

Already his phone vibrates from the corner of the room, he hadn’t picked it up once he threw it. Quickly he grabs it, dreading that it might be from his boss only to see it’s from Viktor. He’d successfully found a still from the commercial and sent him a link.

Jayce smiles in spite of himself, he was much much younger than, freshly into his adulthood. He was cleanly shaven with shorter hair that wasn’t the least bit disheveled. This had happened years back and embarrassed him to no end, his mom hoped this moment would help him gather dating interest. He’s glad she hadn’t tried that again. He’d doubted Viktor’s internet sleuthing skills.

He likes the text in response before he gets back to work. To start he pulls a chair over for Viktor to work at along with going downstairs and grabbing Bronte’s tummy time rug. They could spend time together here as a family, the timing was perfect since Bronte was too young to get into trouble. Even with the rug as an option, he knows she’ll end up snuggled into one of their chests.

One day, Jayce hopes Bronte will find comfort in the sound of the workshop.

When the room is prepared he calls for Viktor, who moves slowly with Bronte on his hip. It’s harder to walk this way but that doesn’t stop him, his steps are calculated and he’s determined. At the doorway, Jayce takes Bronte, wanting some time with her as he frees Viktor’s arms to make his way to the desk and recreate a space for himself.

With Bronte in his arms Jayce goes to get his laptop and work bag before returning upstairs, he has four late projects and a few proposals to make. Some that are fully fleshed out and some that haven’t even been sketched out. There’s math that needs updating or dimensions that didn’t work, he has a few prototypes and pieces of the machinery used to make the product in the corner, but they’ve collected dust.

This isn’t the first time that Viktor has flipped through his works, but he’d only looked through the older ones. If these were casual projects, Jayce would be vibrating at the idea of Viktor looking through his blueprints and ideas but because they were work projects, he’s not as excited. Still, working alongside Viktor seemed like a dream, parenthood or work partners.

Together they’ll be able to do this, Jayce is only expecting a dent but as Viktor looks over everything, he thinks they can get at least half done.

Their handwriting differs vastly so Viktor won’t write in Jayce’s notebooks, the last thing he’d want would be for him to get in trouble. Instead he writes his ideas in a new notebook as they work through things together.

At first Bronte goes from Jayce’s arms, to Viktor, to the floor for tummy time when both of their hands are needed before repeating the cycle. She doesn’t mind it and she listens to them talking intently, eyes watching as they write or put small pieces of cardboard together in their discussions.

“You know this one didn’t work because your dimensions were off,” Viktor points to a minor design flaw, “at least for the machine you are using. The margin of error would cause bunching in print,” Viktor looks at the description Jayce provided him of the tools and machinery, “it should be like this.”

“Shit you’re right,” Jayce puts his hand to his chin, “I’ve been so frazzled I couldn’t even see it.”

“Relaxing is your weakness,” Viktor smirks, “or maybe it’s slowing down.”

“I can slow down, sometimes.”

Working together is a dream, punching through multiple projects in one night at a speed that Jayce didn’t think was possible. He hopes the job is still open and if it’s not, he hopes to convince everyone to make it again. Once Viktor is settled he wants to work alongside him, to continue to see his brilliance. They can talk and get things done, laughing while Bronte adds her own two cents in. When she does this, they agree with her in full sentences, nodding along or explaining to her what they were doing.

“She’s a talker,” Jayce observes.

“Picked that up from you,” Viktor twirls his hair absentmindedly as he sketches a redesign, “soon she’ll start talking in riddles and poetry. Talking about roads less traveled and whatnot.”

“I mean, her name does come from literature,” Jayce’s defense is a little weak, seeing as he was focused on the Greek origins of her name, “so would we be surprised?”

“I find it a little ironic you didn’t know of the Bronte sisters but you seem to know certain aspects of poetry,” Viktor continues to sketch and twirl, too focused to look Jayce’s way.

“I chose the class thinking it would be easier than reading full classics,” he offers a sheepish grin, “Needless to say I was wrong and it consumed way too much of my time in college.”

“That gave you less time to blow things up?”

“That only happened because of a mislabeling in the lab, if you remember. The explosion wasn’t even my fault. It just happened to be while I was doing something I wasn’t supposed to be doing.”

Viktor pauses, putting the pencil down as he sits back in his chair to think back to college. At the time he held his head high and shared an apartment with his old friend Sky. Her number was gone from his phone, but he had long had it memorized; too bad he was too afraid to call her. Viktor digs into his memory, trying to remember more of the details to Jayce’s near expulsion.

“You were trying to… enhance medical cooling systems for the transportation of materials, weren’t you?”

“Yes! Make it safer, last longer, and make something reusable that’s stronger than an ice pack. Nitrogen is cool, but can be hazardous and Hydrogen is another story… I was hoping to crack the code on that one but instead got banned from that entire part of the university.” 

“It was the most I could do,” Viktor crosses his arms, looking over to him with a smile, “It was either part of the building or the entire building. When we are finished here, I’d like to have another look at that project. Perhaps we can work on it without blowing anything up.”

“I’d love that,” Jayce’s eyes widened, that project had left such a dark mark on his life but it had been a project of love and determination, “I’ve been wanting to have the guts to try again.”

They take a break for lunch and they switch off when Bronte needs to be changed or fed. Viktor is only easy to pull away from work if it has to do with Bronte, getting him to stop for a bite to eat or even reminding him to drink something is a struggle. Jayce can picture him overworking himself just as much as he has himself. And by the time dinner comes around, they’ve nearly completed every task.

Tasks that were going to take Jayce months are finished in a night. Not because they were difficult or he was unskilled, but because he didn’t want to do them or- he just couldn’t will himself to start them. The night isn’t long enough to finish all of them, they’ll have to continue them before Bronte’s appointment on Tuesday, if they still planned on stopping by the office.

Regardless, Jayce is able to send multiple things to his boss and hopefully that shuts him up. Viktor is already planning on how to speak to him when he goes in, if it’s the same man he interviewed with the first time then he knows he’ll have the upperhand. Viktor doesn’t want the boss to think that he can threaten Jayce anytime he needs work done, he understands due dates and work consequences but draws the line at black mail. 

Between reports and pictures, Jayce almost sends his boss a picture of his middle finger until Viktor suggests maybe waiting until after they have a secondary income. The moment he sends the last thing they’ve completed for the day, Jayce feels his shoulders begin to release months of tension.

It’s freeing, the weight feels so much less. 

“We’ve done it!” Jayce stands up quickly after losing such a heavy burden before turning to Viktor.

Viktor smiles, “Most of it.”

Overwhelmed by excitement and relief and starstruck by Viktor’s soft smile, Jayce steps towards Viktor and cups his cheeks before tilting his head upwards. Impulsively, he lowers his face down and kisses him right in the middle of the forehead. He’s so incredibly thankful.

It’s when he pulls away that he realizes what he had done, while his fingers still held Viktor’s face in his. Jayce realizes he had crossed the line yet again. His eyes fall onto Viktor’s, they’ve become glass and wide, his lips parted in either confusion or shock. It’s  not the first time he’d kissed his forehead, but it’s the first time he’d done it like this.

And he hadn’t even asked, again.

“Sorry,” Jayce takes a step back, “I…”

The room fills with silence as Viktor still stares at Jayce, the kiss doesn’t make the back of his neck burn nor does it make him wretch. He’s not sure if it’s because the bond mark has finally lost its potency or because it hadn’t been on his lips. Instead of getting sick or feeling repulsed, even feeling frightened, his heart leaps as he processes just how soft Jayce’s lips were against his skin.

“Really Viktor, I’m sorry I was just excited, I-” Jayce shudders, hands going together as he shrinks himself. 

“You’ve… done this before,” Viktor isn’t sure if it’s a question or a statement, but the middle of his forehead itches just a little bit.

It feels familiar and Hector had never kissed his forehead before.

“I…I have,” Jayce swallows and looks away, “The day I scared you, I thought it would help.”

“Why do you apologize?” Viktor raises a brow, lips shifting to a light pink, “For being kind hearted?”

“Cause I didn’t ask,” Jayce’s hands go behind his back, he doesn’t want to take away Viktor’s autonomy, ever.

A smile breaks on Viktor’s face, eyes lighting up as his chest flutters, it’s so incredibly innocent and beyond considerate, “You can kiss my forehead anytime you want.”

Without missing a beat, Jayce steps forward once more, places his hands on either side of Viktor’s face before placing his lips once more against the soft flesh of his forehead.

Viktor’s heart lifts, feeling the lightest it’s ever been as he very softly begins to purr.

Notes:

All art will be linked to a thread on my X, If there are enough people who'd like to see it on ao3 attached to this series let me know.

https://x.com/corkyno/status/1952484550887845923

Chapter 14: Red

Notes:

Thank you for waiting everyone! With the start of the year hitting me hard (same with some medication changes) I will take a minute to adjust and go back to those weekly updates.

 

TRIGGER WARNING: near the end GRAPHIC VIOLANCE, this chapter gets ROUGH at the end, take a break if needed.

If you do not like reading detailed graphic violence, stop reading when Viktor smells sulfur and smoke. Stop reading at Hector’s arrival. Or stop reading when you get uncomfortable and come back for the next chapter, no one will force you to read that part. Be responsible for your own mental health.

I care for you, have a good day and thank you for reading.

The sky has darkened and thunder rolls softly in the distance, it hasn’t started to rain just yet but the oncoming storm is thick in the air. Jayce is loading Bronte’s diaper bag and stroller into the back of the car while Viktor is strapping her in. On their list of things to do today, Bronte’s appointment was first on their agenda, afterwards they were going to stop by Jayce’s work.  

As the seatbelt clicks in, Viktor ensures she’s secure before turning to look at the sky. A chill runs up his back as he gazes at the speed of the clouds, knowing they’d be in the car during part of it, that he’d hear every bit of it.

“We can come right home after,” Jayce suggests as he shuts the trunk, returning to Viktor’s side, “If you want to save stopping by my work for another day.”

It’s thoughtful, Jayce understands Viktor’s fear of storms, the fear of being trapped somewhere. But Viktor can’t be afraid forever and he can’t allow Jayce to fall anymore behind or stressed, they need to work as a team, Viktor needs to get this job.

Smiling, Viktor shakes his head and closes the door, “It’s alright, we can do today.”

Jayce steps forward, his hand going to Viktor’s arm as he strokes it gently. Again he kisses his forehead before moving back with a smile. He’s so incredibly proud of how far Viktor has come, the tenacity he has to move forward when shown a goal.

The need to solve every equation until there’s nothing left.

Desolate solitude, he hears it in Viktor’s voice, another echo of another time.

“Does my forehead say kiss here ?” Viktor looks up to Jayce, eyes wide and full of admiration. He didn’t mind it, he loved it in fact, but since Jayce had done it once, it’s been a constant in their lives.

Jayce will kiss his forehead in the morning, when they go to bed, and anytime Viktor does something that’s outside of his comfort zone or when Viktor solves something that’s been bothering him.

“Ah no,” Jayce opens Viktor’s door before he walks over towards the drivers side, “There is a Jayce’s lips magnet though. I can’t not do it, physically impossible actually.”

Butterflies flutter in Viktor’s stomach and he feels like a blushing teenager again, it’s such an odd feeling to be grown with a child yet feel so incredibly giddy with a simple kiss. His heart had been so deprived of love that he’d forgotten what it felt like, instead of the slate being wiped clean it was damaged to the point of looking nearly unrecognizable as they put it back together.

Through it all, he was still Viktor.

Bronte’s appointment is quick and they make it there before the rain begins, but not before the wind picks up. They fight against the wind as they get Bronte into her stroller, their hair flying rapidly as Jayce keeps the two of them from blowing away. It’s a little dramatic, but he keeps one hand around Viktor on his hip and the other holding onto the stroller. They push it together and to the unknowing eye, they look like a disgustingly in love couple as they walk in full laughter and their hair out of place.

Bronte’s appointment is quick, her cast is removed and she’s given a new one, when she fusses this time Jayce doesn’t cry. Instead he holds her hand and talks to her as Viktor holds the other one. She farts loudly in protest, but that is about all she can do when she’s surrounded by three adults trying to help her wrap her leg.

Her appointment goes well, the doctor informing them that Bronte will graduate from casts to braces in the next few weeks. Viktor and Jayce share twinkling glances at one another at the news, they are excited for the next step for her and are happy that she’s been making progress. The doctor does want to keep an eye on the length of her legs as they continue to develop, as it’s starting to appear that one may be longer than the other. 

Jayce gives Viktor’s hand a squeeze expecting a negative emotion or feeling coming from him. Instead, Viktor just nods, accepting it as it was despite it not being ideal, he doesn’t hate himself about it this time. It’s hard for him to remind himself that Bronte and himself are two separate people, that he didn’t have the same quality of medical care that she has access to. 

Viktor’s main concern is that she will grow with pain or will be perceived differently, but he’s different now. Instead of believing the things that Hector had told him, Viktor knows that he will be able to support her plus he hopes that early treatment can minimize the pain. He hopes that she won’t resent him one day, when her bones ache or her feet feel strange; he knows she may feel angry and he wouldn’t fault her for it, he just hopes it’s not a feeling of hatred.

There’s still guilt, there always will be, but it doesn’t make him want to die.

“Whatever happens,” Jayce says as they load her back into the car, “We are going to make sure she’s the happiest baby, we’ll do whatever to reduce her pain we-”

“I know,” Viktor hums, his hand going to rest on Jayce’s shoulder, “We’ll support her.”

Jayce smiles and he would have leaned down to place another kiss to the middle of Viktor’s forehead when thunder rolls over them. Viktor’s hand is no longer on his shoulder, instead he’s fiddling with his fingers, a way to soothe himself.

It’s still incredibly windy but the sky has darkened much more, it wouldn’t be long now. Viktor turns his head to look towards the sky, he’s a little nervous and he can’t help it.

“Let’s get goin’,” Jayce suggests, even with Viktor’s growth Jayce can still feel the anxiety radiating off him.

No time is wasted, once Bronte and her things are back in the car and Viktor nearly flies into the passenger's seat while Jayce picks up his pace a little bit. If he moves too quickly, he’ll hurt Viktor’s pride and if he moves too slowly, he knows Viktor will just grow more anxious. 

This has already been a long day, a long day talking to people and being away from home, a long day in a brace that doesn’t quite fit right. They had to get that done next, Bronte’s ortho even made a comment about it when Viktor was walking.

“You have your resume?” Jayce confirms as he starts the course of his work.

“I do,” Viktor pulls out a file folder with his credentials, application, along with his resume, “Is going in…okay?”

“Of course it’s okay, you’re going to get that job,” Jayce grins, “Plus I want to shove everything into my boss's face, get my hands on that note, and show Bronte off.”

The idea of showing Bronte off fills Viktor’s heart, she’s something to be proud of. She’s the very thing that makes them want to live and to improve themselves, she keeps them grounded and keeps their minds busy from wandering too close to the void. Bronte’s cry varies and they have learned when she’s hungry, needs to be changed, needs sleep, or just wants attention. They’ve also noticed that Bronte’s cry when she smells Hector or conveniently when Viktor’s in distress, is audibly different.

It’s a phenomenon that they don't quite get.

Viktor mind wanders to Shakespear as he fingers through the paperwork, looking at his various accolades he’d earned with his blood, sweat, and tears. Everything he had worked for, might finally pay off, his dreams of accomplishing something larger than himself.

Everything that he wouldn’t have the chance to do, had it not been for Bronte.

In Jayce’s voice, in that flowery language he so often speaks, Viktor quotes A Midsummer’s Nights dream :

Though she be but little, she is fierce. 

And if someone so tiny and fragile had the ability to fight, then he had the capability too. If Bronte could be fierce, so could he. Lightning dances across the sky and he lifts his glance from his lap to the sky, admiring for just a moment the way the clouds look as they tumble overhead.

Thunder comes, making his skin crawl and his heart ache.

“Eeee.”

“Éééé,” Jayce echoes.

“Ěěěě,” Viktor joins, his heart beating steady.

They continue their drive with conversation, filling the silence between the rumbling of the clouds. These rainy days would be over soon, as they move farther from spring to the warmth of summer. Perhaps by fall, Viktor hopes he'll be able to appreciate them more.

The group parks in the parking garage underneath Jayce’s office, Viktor is mildly impressed to hear that Jayce has a VIP parking spot, but is a little disappointed about its distance to the door regardless. Silently he hopes the place is accessible, not just for him but the stroller as well.

They are quick to gather their things and head up the single floor elevator to reach the bland and boring cubicles. A few people perk up when the door opens, eyes wide to see Jayce beside another person and a baby. They had heard he was on parental leave, but they had no idea where this baby had come from.

Rumors spread and people placed bets, some thought he had a secret lover while others thought it was a one night stand, only one or two considered the idea that Jayce was just helping out a friend.

“Talis!” A man barks from the back, Jayce’s back instantly straightens, his grip on the stroller gets tighter, “Are you here to beg for forgiveness or to actually WORK?”

Upon seeing the stroller, he clenches his jaw as he wonders what gives Jayce the audacity to bring the baby here. It’s then that viktor steps to the side of the stroller and Jayce, ensuring that he’s all the more visible.

Viktor remembers this man, Charles Calvin, he’d been one of the people who had interviewed him before and nearly got onto his hands and knees to beg him to accept the position. Seeing the man approach so quickly, Viktor doesn’t crumble as he hides the gnawing fear of being in a place he’s unfamiliar with, replacing it instead with ensuring that Jayce’s dignity remains in place.

“Mr. Calvin,” Viktor puts the file under his arm, steadies himself on his cane and reaches his hand forward, “Please to see you again.”

“T- Viktor?” Charles stutters, taken back when he realizes that viktor is there. While he had no issue yelling and throwing a fit in front of a baby, there was no chance he was going to act that way in front of the well renowned Viktor. 

“Viktor OfZaun, I hadn’t expected to see you here today. What brings you in?” his eyes flicker from Viktor to Jayce, “Are you two acquainted?” 

Those eyes are pleading at Jayce, hoping that he will explain or at least save him with an explanation that didn’t imply that the two were together. 

“I have thought quite a bit about your offer, I wanted to inquire if the position was still open, though I understand if it’s not,” Viktor tilts his head towards Bronte and Jayce, “As you can see, we’ve had our hands full.”

“Of course, raising a baby is a lot of work,” Charles laughs awkwardly, his hand going to his knees as he bends over to look at Bronte, “What a beautiful baby.”

Bronte stares at him for a moment, scrutinizing him, before she starts to cry.

This is where Jayce steps in, “It’s okay, Conejita,” Jayce kneels down beside the stroller and puts his hand on Bronte’s head, “He’s only scary up close.”

Charles quickly pulls back, “So um, how did you say you knew each other?”

“Ah, hasn’t Jayce completed the paperwork for paternal leave?” Viktor raises a brow, “I am sure I watched him do it,” that’s a lie, but it makes Charles squirm, “We’d have to know one another, to raise a baby together, no?”

“Oh-oh, yes,” things are clicking for Charles and his face goes sheet white, he’s fearful he’s already fucked this up, “Would you like to disguss the position?” 

“Of course,” Viktor turns to Jayce and winks, “Can you keep an eye?”

Jayce is still kneeling beside Bronte, hiding his smile the best he can as he looks to Viktor, “I’d love to.”

Jayce stands in the hallway with the stroller, watching as Viktor walks with his boss with an unmatched amount of confidence and suddenly, he’s sitting with his head in his hands in a chair. The room is destroyed and there are authorities in every corner, taking notes of the damage and keeping enraged professors away from the hallway. It smells of burnt wood, melted plastic, and a bit of water damage.

As he’s sitting there, thinking about how his life was over , the man in front of him has the audacity to speak.

“What happened here?”

“Science? I guess?”

The Viktor of that time held his chin high and spoke with an air that made Jayce infuriated , Jayce wanted nothing more than to jump out of the hole he’d blown into the wall. One of the things Jayce couldn’t stand was how the Viktor of that time carried himself while his own life was falling apart. Jayce’s dreams and college career were completely at stake and in the hands of a man who seemed completely aghast by his experimentation. 

The Jayce of that time, didn’t know it was Viktor who had fought for him.

Part of Jayce knows that this is a little bit of a front, that the way Viktor was acting wasn’t sustainable for him right now. That the attitude Viktor had with Charles was fueled by Viktor’s agitation with how he’d treated Jayce. Viktor had power here and that power gave him the confidence to speak as he used to. He felt safe enough to be able to do this.

So much has changed since then.

Jayce then realizes how different Viktor’s actual posture has gotten since then, wondering if he should add physical therapy and back support to the list of things that Viktor should consider. All things that Viktor likely would have thought about and taken care of before his life fell apart, all things that he mentally struggles with considering for himself now that he’s recovering.

Viktor will get the job. Jayce is so confident in that belief that he would bet his life on it. The only thing that concerns him, the only thing that makes him unsure if he should follow in after them, is the fact that Viktor will be alone with another man.

Charles was an alpha, though he was always triple patched as a leading professional in his field, it still made Jayce nervous. It’s here that he realizes that he never told Viktor that he’d be sitting alone with an alpha for the duration of the interview. Swallowing hard he debates knocking on the door, but doing that would be too much.

It would imply Viktor couldn’t be on his own, that he wasn’t strong enough to do it on his own. Jayce knows Charles wouldn’t do anything and he knows that if he had told Viktor about it, there would be a chance that he’d get less confident.

But am I doubting him? No, Viktor has been so strong. He’d do it regardless.

“Eeeee,” Bronte squeals before flapping her arms. She's not pleased that Viktor walked away, but she’s happy her other dad is nearby.

“Éééé,” Jayce pauses, remembering how Viktor pronounced it earlier, “Ěěěě.”

It’s not his best Viktor impression, but he hopes that it gets the point across.

“Okay Conejita, let’s meet some more friends,” Jayce turns her around and turns towards the lab.

He doesn’t say goodbye to any of the people sitting in the cubicles and they don’t wish him well either, the only one he nods at is the only one who was kind. The place he belonged was in a lab and at first, he believed that he would work best when he was alone- now he believed he would work best with Viktor beside him.

The walk is long, a few twists and turns before he makes his way to the multifloor lab. Most of the building was the lab along with production, all places that he would thrive in if his mother trusted him enough to work there. Opening the door he is greeted to loud music and two people deep in their work.

Two people dominate the lab, personalizing every inch of the space while getting work done. Spray paint covers nearly every surface, prototypes have different designs painted on them. Ximena thought it added character and enjoyed it, as long as the actual products weren’t destroyed- she was fine with it.

Charles hated it, he rarely came into the lab, his beige life simply couldn’t handle it.

Jayce grits his teeth but smiles, he doesn’t want it to be too loud with Bronte in the room so he reaches in and flickers the lights. He learned quickly that a power outage or a brown out were the only things that would get these two to stop, so whenever he needed their attention he’d flicker the lights. It usually worked, unless they were wearing tinted glasses.

Ekko was the first to look up from his work, seeing Jayce pushing a stroller made his jaw drop. He had heard rumors about Jayce either fathering a child or obtaining a child but he didn’t want to speculate, instead he just got pieces of information from Jinx who had gotten it from Vi.

The only thing that Vi gave them was that Jayce had a friend staying with him, there was a baby, and Jayce punched a man in the face. So not a lot of information, Ekko didn’t pry much after that but he wanted to. He knew that Jayce would come around regardless.

Putting his tools down, Ekko stood up and walked over towards their speaker and turned it off. The room didn’t fall to silence though, instead cutting to Jinx who was singing loudly in her own happy place while she worked.

Once she realized the music stopped she turned to Ekko with a pout, “How did ya manage to turn it off at my favorite part?”

“There’s a baby in the lab.”

Jinx laughs, turning her chair towards him as she lifts her leg onto the seat, “Okay okay, who’s the baby this time? Is it you?”

“No,” Ekko steps forward and points as Jayce pushes the stroller in, “A real baby.”

“Hello,” Jayce sings, waving at Jinx before he motions down to Bronte in her stroller, “I’ve brought the tiniest visitor!”

  Jinx leaps from her seat, runs past Ekko and towards Jayce. Jayce knew that the enthusiasm wasn’t for him but the baby. The moment she’s at their side she bends over and picks Bronte up.

“Look at you!” she spins with Bronte, supporting her neck as she does so before snuggling her clothes.

Bronte enjoys it, smiling and making happy coos.

Jayce stares nervously, knowing that Jinx has a very strong reputation for destroying things just as much, if not more, than her brilliant ability to create. But seeing that her hands support Bronte, he’s reminded once more of her and Ekkos struggle to conceive. Of all the people in this office, other than himself and Viktor, Jinx would be the one he’d trust the most to look after Bronte.

“Don’t hog her,” Ekko looks over Jinx’s shoulder, grinning at Bronte before looking at Jayce, “Genetics got a little weird, huh?”

“Didn’t know you had it in ya,” Jinx hands Bronte off to Ekko before stepping to Jayce, her hands behind her back as she examines him, “Thought you were too trapped in your head to find a mate.”

“Well she’s not…no she’s mine, but she’s not genetically related to me,” Jayce explains, “It’s a long story, I’ll have to introduce you to Viktor when he’s done with the interview.”

Jinx and Ekko’s expressions change, their attention turns to Jayce like a magnet. There’s something reminiscent of pain and mourning on their faces.

“Yeah?” Jinx exhales slowly, moving part of her bangs from her face, “Viktor who?”

Ekko takes a closer look at Bronte, examining the color of her eyes, her hair, and the moles upon her face. There’s a familiarity there, he doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but he’s three for three on traits that Viktor has, so he decides to be more direct.

“Viktor OfZaun? Top of his class at Piltover University? Heimerdinger’s assistant?” He says quickly, eyes snapping up to Jayce, “That Viktor?”

“Ekko,” Jinx looks to him, her upper lip twitches, “You know as well as I do, it’s not-”

“Yeah, you know him?” 

Jayce feels stupid now, he had assumed because he himself didn’t know everyone in Piltover, that the chances of Viktor knowing Jinx and Ekko were slim. Especially since Viktor didn’t seem to know Vi at all. It made sense that they knew each other, but it hadn’t once crossed his mind as a possibility.

This opens another door of a thousand questions, but he doesn’t ask them, because the expressions on their faces are so different from what he’s used to. 

Jinx blinks, “You…” She steps forward, she can’t smell Viktor on Jayce at all, but there is a hint of him on Bronte. Lavender mixed with Jayce, two distinct scents from two very different times in her life.

“ You know him? The Piltie Golden boy, knows our Viktor?" Her voice is soft and sincere. It’s a question that she fears that the answer to is ‘no’ but she hopes, begs that the answer is yes.

Our Viktor .

Jayce wished that Viktor could hear himself claimed by friends, by a pair of other omegas, he knew it would be monumental towards his self esteem. A reminder that Viktor was once part of a community, that they still considered him part of their community. The possessiveness would sound strange if it hadn’t come from Jinx, a woman who thrived protecting her pack.

As though he had been summoned, the door opens once more and Viktor steps in. After his interview, which was much shorter than Jayce had expected, he was directed towards the lab. His shoulders weren’t as high as before and the front that he had put on earlier quickly drained from him as he walked down the hallway.

Viktor hoped that Jayce would be alone in the lab, so he could unravel completely as they walked back to the car. The room was suffocating and while he kept a level head, it was more professional socializing than he had done in years. 

All he wanted was to go home, shower and curl up on the couch with Jayce and Bronte. They could talk about their future plans, how it would look when Viktor went back to work, the things he’d likely need, how he’d pay Jayce back. He wanted to fall apart, sit down as his back threatened to fold inward on itself, but he wanted to do it in Jayce’s arms. 

He expected Jayce and Bronte, but he didn’t expect that he’d instantly lock eyes with Jinx. The silence in the air is heavy but short, followed by Jinx’s boots smacking against the ground as she runs past Jayce and directly to Viktor. 

Her eyes aren’t angry or disappointed, her eyes are wet but she hides them as she wraps her arms around Viktor.

“Idiot,” she gasps, she hugs him tightly with half the mind to never let go, “You dumb idiot.”

With one hand she rips off her own scent patch before holding him tightly again, she’d rip his off too if he didn’t feel so different in her arms. She could feel the difference, his breasts hidden under the shirt meant he never got the surgery he talked about, she felt the slight swell of his stomach. His posture was worse, his limp much more prominent.

Jayce made sure he ate well, but two months of steady meals wouldn’t instantly fix years of neglect. Her hands were balled into fists behind his back, she was angry, but not at him.

Ekko is quick to hand Bronte back to Jayce, darting after her before he wraps them up in a hug, the force of it causing Viktor to sway just a bit. It had been too long since they had last seen one another, too long since they had last had the ability to hear from Viktor.

Jayce holds Bronte and leans against one of the tables, he watches as the reunion ensues. Watch as Viktor starts the encounter stiffly before he relaxes into it. Before the group hug goes from awkward to natural as he returns the gesture, his cane dropping to the floor with a clank. The two shift automatically, as though they had done this a thousand times, shifting to support Viktor.  Jinx smells the same, bubblegum and gunpowder. Viktor can’t smell Ekko, he’s still patched, but he hopes he’s held the same scent as well.

The hug ends, it doesn’t make up for what feels like a lifetime away, but it does. Ekko picks Viktor’s cane up and hands it back to him, he still can’t believe that it’s really Viktor.

And Viktor can’t believe it’s Jinx and Ekko as well, that he ran into them again. He’s thankful to have seen them again just as much as he is mournful. They’ve both grown older, losing their teenage features as they grow into their own. 

“Jinx, Ekko,” Viktor says softly, “I did not know either of you worked here.”

“We didn’t know you were still local, cookie,” Jinx shifts her weight to one hip, “let alone alive .”

Cookie ? Jayce raises a brow, he’ll have to ask about that later, though he feels that’s just one more thing that Viktor will keep close to his chest.

“It…has been complicated,” Viktor admits, looking a little sheepish, “Alive? Do not be dramatic.”

Since the start of Viktor and Hector’s relationship, he’d always been down playing the abuse and trauma that he was experiencing. Jinx and Ekko exchange glances.

“So this baby,” Jinx motions to Bronte, “Is that monster’s?”

Monster makes Viktor wince, Jinx had always been so direct and had never been afraid to speak her mind. Then again, there had been a few people back then who had tried to convince him otherwise, those warnings were short lived though. It felt like everything had happened so quickly, one moment he had friends and a phone full of them then the next he was locked away in a room.

But looking at Jinx and Ekko, so much time had passed. They no longer were two students in the Engineering department who needed mentorship or guidance, they graduated and had stable employment. 

Again Viktor fights guilt, but he does it in silence.

“Genetically,” Viktor sighs, “But that’s it.”

So far she doesn’t look like Hector, she’s only two months old but he hopes that his and Jayce’s influence will prevent her from behaving like him as well. Viktor wonders how much of a person is nature versus nurture, but that wasn’t his expertise. 

Jinx purses her lips before pushing them to the side and Viktor’s heart seizes for a moment, terrified that she’d reject her. She doesn’t purse her lips because she’s going to reject Bronte, she does it because she can tell that Bronte is only a few months old. Meaning that if she was Hector’s, that would mean that Viktor only freshly left him. In a perfect world, Viktor would have left Hector before they lost contact and in a somewhat decent world, he would have left him more than a year ago.

In the grand scheme of things, Jinx is just happy that Viktor is standing there in front of her, that they could be in their lives again. That the three of them could rekindle their omega bond. Having it severed all those years ago felt like a spear through the gut.

Silently she nods before she returns to Jayce, putting her arms out in order to take Bronte from him. Viktor releases a breath, his heart starts to calm, he knows Bronte is safe in Jinx’s arms. Jayce has no reason to not trust her, he knows how hard the pair of them had been trying to get pregnant, how the two silently adored babies in public.

“Her name?”

“Bronte,” Jayce hands her back over, “Like the Greek Goddess or like the Brontë sisters.”

“Gotcha gotcha. Come ‘ere Brontosaurus,” Jinx holds her for a moment before sitting down on the floor with her back against the wall. She sits with her knees up and places Bronte on them, holding her carefully as she catches her attention, “If Cookie can make peace with it, then I can too.”

She says it so quietly, that only Bronte can hear.

Ekko crosses his arms, he’s fighting the paternal instinct to go sit beside Jinx and play with Bronte and instead settles for interrogating the two of them, “How did you two meet?”

“Destroying the lab,” Jayce grins, knowing this is exactly the answer that Ekko doesn’t want.

“ Recently . I can’t picture you walking around Zaun,” Ekko looks to Jayce, “and you walking around Piltover,” he looks at Viktor, “So how the hell did you reconnect?”

“Let us say,” Viktor puts both hands onto the top of his cane, “That we met in the middle.”

“Yeah…” Ekko squints, he doesn’t buy it, “So, did you get the job?”

“I did,” Viktor nods.

“See? You’ve got it,” Jayce’s smile is ear to ear, “When do you start?”

“Eh,” Viktor pulls a folded paper from his pocket, flipping his wrist over as he hands it to Jayce with two fingers, “In person? Not for a few months but in a few weeks I’ll be able to begin virtually.”

Jayce takes the paper, thinking that it’s a contract that he unceremoniously shoved into his cardigan. He opens it excitedly, hoping that Viktor was given the same offer and benefits or more than he had the first time around. Instead he’s met with his own handwriting.

Everyone, I’m sorry.

Quickly he folds the paper back in half and looks to Viktor, “The man you are…” 

Viktor turns away as his ears turn pink, looking back to Ekko as he desperately wants to take a moment to catch up, “Lunch?”

“There’s a cafe we like down stairs, nothing like the Last Drop though,” Ekko smirks before looking back to Jinx, “Break time?”

“Absoluetly, I’m starving.”

The four of them travel downstairs to the company owned cafe, Viktor is impressed for a moment before he’s reminded of how different the wealth of companies are from everyday citizens. Bronte holds one of Jinx’s braids tightly in her hand, smiling as she’s able to explore new areas. Ekko follows closeby, waiting for Jinx to let him have a turn.

The five of them eat and catch up, Viktor listens at the edge of his seat. The pair had fostered a little girl named Isha before adopting her recently. Isha is on the autism spectrum and is mostly nonverbal, she loves insects and following Jinx around the house. Before adopting Isha, they had a quick wedding in order to make the process a lot easier. It was a small wedding with Isha and a few family members who could make it.

Viktor feels an emptiness, as happy as he is for their marriage and success adopting their daughter, he feels like he’d let them down by missing their wedding. As children, Viktor had seen them on the streets of Zaun, causing a ruckus and building everything from toys to useful little machines. 

Time, Hector, had taken away his chance to be there for them. To be one of those people who watched their union no matter how small it was. 

“We’ll do a ceremony eventually,” Jinx waves her hand a bit, “That was just a formality to ensure we could take in Isha.”

The next topic they bring up isn’t that light, they talk about how they’ve been trying to conceive for years before meeting Isha but haven’t been successful. When Jinx brings up their  miscarriages, Ekko’s body physically deflates until Bronte is placed onto his lap.

“We’re starting IVF,” Jinx adds, it’s painful to talk about, but she’s keeping her hopes up for them both, “It’s difficult for two omegas to get pregnant, our specialist seems hopeful. The shots freak me the fuck out though.”

“I give them to her,” Ekko adds, “Of everything in the world, it’s needles. You have tattoos. ”

“It’s different,” she crosses her arms and sits back, “Plus one near death experience and a shitty trip to a hospital in Zaun is enough to ruin that experience for me too.”

“Near death?”

Jinx shrugs, “Car crash,” she lifts her hand up and removes her middle finger, “Ekko thought I was going to die.”

Viktor’s lips part, he knew all too well about the hospitals in Zaun. With this job, with this money that he’d be pulling in, he’d be able to secure Bronte’s future and help give back to his home. The hospitals in the city needed work, millions if not billions of dollars of work, but Viktor would do anything he could to make it better for the people there.

For the children there.

“Oh, Vi is Jinx’s sister,” Jayce adds, “I’m surprised you never ran into each other.”

“That is why she looked familiar…” Viktor places his lips around the straw of his strawberry sweetmilk. 

“Huh,” Jinx smiles, “I don’t remember all of us hanging out together.”

“It’s the resemblance,” Viktor hums into his straw, drinking it down so quickly that Jayce passes him his.

Jinx sticks her tongue out, pretending to be disgusted by looking like her sister. She’s not, she admires Vi and always had.

As their lunch wraps up, Viktor gets both of their phone numbers again along with a .5 photo of Bronte. Seeing his baby’s forehead look massive makes him laugh so hard that he starts coughing and needs to put his head down to steady his breathing. Jayce’s hand goes to Viktor's back, thinking that he’s choking on milk before seeing it himself.

Before they separate, they take a group photo, their smiles ranging from Viktor’s soft and gentle one to Jinx’s toothy one. Viktor plans to cherish this photo and fill the album with as many positive memories as he can. He’s happy that this reunion went well, knowing that not all of them will.

Jayce’s hand goes to Viktor’s lower back as they head back towards the parking garage, “I told you you’d get the job! How did you get the note?”

“It was included in my offer.”

As Viktor turns his head to look at Jayce, Viktor can see that familiar look of mischief in his eyes. It’s less hidden than it had been in the past. Together they stop walking as Jayce puts his hand to Viktor’s cheek.

Jayce’s eyes hover for a moment at Viktor’s pink lips, he imagines how soft they’d feel against his own. He’s reached the point now where he is wondering what exactly their relationship is, he knows that they are parents, partners, and friends…

Primitively they have formed their own pack.

In modern terms, they cuddle together in their sheets and have seen each other at their worst. It feels like they’ve known each other a lifetime or more, Jayce can’t help but feel that his soul is connected to Viktor along with his heart.

While he knows he can admit that he has feelings for Viktor to himself, the thought of telling the object of his affection seemed impossible. Viktor was still recovering, still needing support and had been emotionally vulnerable. Not giving him the chance to be anything else, to grow wings, would be criminal.

But was it too late? Had Jayce already tethered him with kisses and scenting, with reassurance and praise. 

“Really, how did you do it?”

Those gorgeous honey colored eyes look up to him, twinkling in a manner that makes Jayce’s heart start to race, “It was a combination of things… I told him that I would seek employment elsewhere after alerting Ximena that he was blackmailing her son. Or that I’d perhaps take his job, though I would be overqualified and be wasting my time.”

“You…” Jayce chuckles, soft and low, “Are amazing, do you know that?”

Their faces are so close, Viktor can feel Jayce’s breath against his face. He swallows, the praise filling more of the cracks in his self esteem and makes his heart skip a beat. Viktor doesn’t know that he’s amazing, he’d never imagine himself as anything but a shadow that blends into the background.

Even if Charles begged him and praised his brilliance, even with two separate theses under his belt, even with his doctorate mostly completed. Viktor hadn’t considered himself amazing, just someone who needed to work harder than most given his circumstances.

The stars directing sailors on dark seas was amazing.

The Lion’s Mane Jellyfish and its expansive body size was amazing.

Jayce was amazing

Bronte was amazing

Viktor still can’t see it, he has created amazing things but he himself was far from; he was broken. The storm is barely audible from the parking garage, but it’s there nonetheless just like his inability to understand the full extent of Jayce’s sincerity.

Viktor is silent but Jayce’s thumb lightly strokes Viktor’s cheek bone, he looks at him at a loss for words. Normally praise made his legs feel weak and his middle warm, it caused a shock of something to run down his spine and his cheeks to redden. There was something about this one that was so different from the others.

“I know you don’t,” Jayce’s eyes scan Viktor’s face, looking for any sign that maybe Viktor does believe it only to come up empty.

There’s a silence as Jayce feels a sinking in his chest, in his mind he hears a voice. One that’s exasperated, desperate, and broken speaks to Viktor directly-

You never do.

Never stops now.

“You don’t know it yet , but one day you will,” Jayce’s lips fall to Viktor’s forehead again, “You’ll know it and live it, I promise.”

“You think this…broken brain is capable of that?”

Jayce pulls back just a bit, looking down at Viktor as he keeps his hand at his face, the desire to kiss him only intensifies but he resists. Instead he just looks at him in silence, that admiration is laced with a profound sadness.

“I think there’s nothing you aren’t capable of,” he encourages.

“Ah, I do not think mind over matter will work on my leg Mr. Talis,” Viktor attempts to pivot the conversation; he doesn't want Jayce to feel the weight of so many promises.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” Jayce sighs, “Viktor I…I think you’re brilliant. Look at everything you’ve done today.”

“I was terrified the entire time,” Viktor interjects, “I considered leaping from the car on the way here.”

“You’re too afraid of the rain to do that,” Jayce pokes back, stunning Viktor, “You did it terrified. I’m proud of you and I hope that you are proud of yourself. You told me I gave you confidence to be alone if I needed to go and that’s…incredible but I hope I can help you see that you can muster it all on your own, even without me.”

But it’s because of you , Viktor wants to respond, your presence and encouragement.

They could talk in circles all day, never once arriving at an end point until they break free, so Viktor purses his lips. While he disagrees, he will try just as he had every single day since their meeting, he’ll try even if he doesn’t believe it. He can barely see where he’s grown, where he’s healed under all the broken pieces and dust; Viktor knows something is happening, that roots are filling in and eroding away sharp edges as Jayce breaks down his walls with not just a hammer, but acts and speech.

It’s what Jayce had promised him from the beginning, he promised he’d make a third path, a fourth, and a fifth. Countless opportunities for Viktor to experience, whether he thrives or fails. Jayce’ll continue to do it, forging a path ahead for Viktor even if it runs him into the ground. Viktor can only continue walking after him, no, beside him and supporting him as they continue onward together.

They are two sides of the same coin, inectricably bound.

“Okay,” Viktor gives in and the two resume their journey back to the car.

Halfway to the car, Jayce stops, “Shit, I forgot something…” he gives a sheepish grin, hand going to the back of his head, “Do you mind?”

Having scored himself a job and been flattered to no end by Jayce, Viktor’s spirits are as high as they can possibly be. It’s been hard to keep from smiling the entire way down, not only had he done it but was also able to rekindle the connection with Jinx and Ekko.

“Not at all,” Viktor pushes Bronte’s stroller, unbothered by having to do it alone.

Jayce tosses him the keys, “I’ll be back in five! Forgot to check my desk and grab anything I need.”

Viktor catches the keys and watches as Jayce jogs back towards the building. At the car, Viktor makes sure that the lock mechanism is on for her stroller before he unlocks it. The first thing he does is open the trunk and put the diaper bag into the back of the car, he’ll move it before he puts the stroller in. This is the first time he’ll be loading her up and breaking down the stroller on his own, depending on when Jayce gets back.

The moment the bag hits the fabric of the car he smells it.

Cigarette smoke and sulfur.

Viktor doesn’t even close the trunk as he grabs his cane and moves to the side of the car, he wants to be wrong but he already feels that creeping feeling upon his skin as goosebumps rise. It’s the swiftest he’s able to move with his cane, but he’s not going to risk losing time when Bronte isn’t within his eyesight.

Rounding the corner, his heart drops when he sees Hector looming over Bronte. He has the same cocky smile on his face and the same bloodshot eyes he’d last seen him with. Viktor hoped that he’d never see him again and now, he was staring dead at him.

Hector, though, didn’t look the same as Viktor remembered, at least not exactly. Now he sports a healed cut upon his lips that Viktor is wondering if it came from when Vi and Jayce visited him. It’s possible that he never took care of it, that Hector allowed the wound to fester and remain, that he picked so much at the scab that it couldn’t heal correctly. There’s fading bruising on his cheek and near his eyes, Viktor couldn’t care less about where it came from.

It is jarring though, seeing Hector mirror the wounds he’d once inflicted onto Viktor but he couldn’t dwell on it. Not when he was standing so close to Bronte and she, their Bunny Girl was already making noises and faces of discomfort. Viktor didn’t think that he’d need to have the stroller directly beside him, he thought that it was alright to have her locked in place beside the passengers side. He hadn’t thought that in this lonely parking garage, Hector would somehow track them down.

Viktor continues forward, the only thing that drives him is his desire to protect Bronte. The open space of the parking garage in combination with the scent of motor oil, minimizes the miasma that radiates from Hector. 

“So this is her, huh?” Hector’s looking down to her, a cigarette in his mouth as he leans over her and roughly pokes her cast, “Why am I not surprised she’s fucked up?”

“Leave,” Viktor takes another step forward, his hand tightening on the top of his cane, his mind clear, “Now.”

It’s a demand.

But the demand falls flat, Hector takes it as a joke because Viktor had never done anything that scared him. Hector glances towards Viktor with a smirk before stepping even closer.

“What? I can’t meet my daughter?” Hector laughs, before he inhales more smoke from his cigarette, leans down to her level and blows it into her face, “Hah, she smells like that fuckin’ Jayce bastard.”

Bronte begins to cough and cry instantly, choking on the smoke as she’s overwhelmed by the scent of her biological father. She had no connection to him, he was a loud and intimidating stranger who smelt horrible. As she coughs her face turns red, her tiny hands balling into fists as she struggles to breathe. Viktor’s eyes widen as he grabs the handle of the stroller and uses his cane to unlock the wheels while Hector laughs. Viktor hates this man and he didn’t think that he had the capability to hate anyone. Viktor starts to pull the stroller back, hoping to clear the air for Bronte.

“Oh my fucking god,” Hector pulls back and rolls his eyes, “That fucking crying, why didn’t you drop her in a bin somewhere and come back? You wanted this?”

“Oh!” His eyes light up as he pulls the cigarette from his mouth, looking at Viktor for a second before he looks back down to Bronte, “Let’s give her something to cry about.”

Hector grabs the edge of the stroller and pulls it back towards him, forcing Viktor to jerk forward before he flips his cigarette in his hand. With a maniacal grin on his face, Hector begins to lower the cigarette towards Bronte. He doesn’t care where it lands, he just wants it to scar, right now the only thing visible is her face, red with chubby cheeks, and her arms.

If Bronte won’t smell like him, she wouldn’t be able to remind Viktor of his existence while he’s away. Hector needed to be able to haunt him, no matter where he was, he needed Viktor to blame himself for his failure to protect his daughter. He needs to leave a mark, a claim upon her out of spite.

One day Bronte will grow up and wonder where that scar came from and if they aren’t together, by some strange chance Hector can’t pull him back to the apartment, Viktor will have to tell her. Tell her that he had failed to keep her safe and she’d learn his name. Even if Viktor doesn’t speak his name again, she’ll never be able to forget him, Bronte will have to live with that mark the rest of her life.

Closer, the sulfur burns at Viktors nose but he doesn’t freeze nor does he take flight, he’s furious and prepared to fight. Bronte’s crying, her proximity to Hector and the fear he can feel from her have him taking action. He can spiral later, he can tremble in fear when his baby is safe.

“Oh?” Hector laughs, “You want a closer view of my first gift to our Daughter?”

Adrenaline masks the fear, drowning it as it spreads through his body.

Viktor sees red.

“Get the fuck away from her.”

Bearing his fangs, Viktor’s look of scorn turns into pure rage mixed with disgust. Every negative emotion and thought he’s thought or felt about Hector reaches the surface. Quickly, Viktor pulls the stroller back, pivoting it and pushing it behind him, he doesn’t have time to relock it, but he does his best to not let her roll into the lanes of the parking garage.

Once she's pushed behind him, Viktor takes a step forward. It’s bold, it’s brave, and it’s something that he’s never done before. He can’t let Hector think he can lay a finger on Bronte, he blew smoke into her tiny lungs.

Hector made her cry, he threatened to burn her.

He raises a brow, his smile venomous as he begins to dismantle Viktor’s flaws and prepare to remind him of every single one. But as his lips part to do so, Viktor moves faster than Hector anticipated as he grabs onto Hector’s arm and uses his cane to trip him backwards.

Viktor can’t lift Hector, but he can use momentum to knock him backwards, only he’s not a fighter, he’s not experienced in anything other than the science behind it and falls on top of him. He drops his cane as they hit the floor, his cane clatters beside them.

Bronte’s cries magnify and Viktor pulls his fist back to punch Hector in the face. 

It’s not a hard hit, but it still leaves Hector monetarily stunned. Through their time together, Viktor had never fought back, he’d never hit him or bit him. Nothing. The shock is short lived and Viktor smiles.

Hector wants to show Viktor who has the upper hand here, he grabs Viktor’s hair and pulls him down onto his chest, scent bombing him, “Relax, Omega.”

Viktor gasps in pain and struggles against Hector’s chest, his hands in tight fists as he beats against Hector. The command doesn’t reach him, but the back of his neck burns and Hector’s scent is making his legs go numb. Still he tries to fight back, Viktor unballs his fists and begins to claw at him, still seeing red.

It’s here that Hector realizes that he doesn’t have control over Viktor anymore and he roughly yanks his head to the side to reveal that his bond mark has faded from the skin. It’s still there, faintly, just enough for Viktor to start slowing down, to start letting his fear take over but not as much as before.

Hector doesn’t have his old power over him anymore, Viktor isn’t suffering from separation sickness, he’s enjoying his life.

“I’m done playing around!”

Viktor’s head snaps back as Hector yanks him down by his hair, his scalp burns and Viktor grunts. As he hits the floor, his face scrapes against the asphalt and his eye shuts tightly. Hector growls as he uses his own body to pin Viktor against the ground, it doesn’t matter that he’s lanky, his strength still is more than Viktor can muster.

The position is all too familiar, Hector over him and leaving him incapacitated. 

Knowing that it’s futile, Viktor still uses whatever adrenaline he has left to fight back. Writhing under Hector Viktor tries to knock him off, to fight against the weight holding him down and when he realizes he can’t knock him off, he looks him square in the eye and spits into his face.

If Viktor could dig those cursed milk fangs into Hector's throat he would, if he could hit him with everything he had and then some, he would. There are so many things that Viktor wished he had the ability to do, the strength to do.

But he fucking can’t do any of them.

What’s worse is when his spit hits Hector’s face, a slow grin pulls at his cheeks. Closer up, Viktor can see the stains of cigarettes and coffee, he can see how his gums have begun to grow red and bleed from neglect. That smile isn’t one of joy, it’s the one Viktor knows means everything is about to get worse for him.

Hector’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes, his brows furrow in disgust, “Dirty fucking slut.”

Shifting his weight, Hector grabs onto Viktor’s neck and squeezes hard, “I don’t want whatever diseases you fucking carry.”

Jerking his leg, he presses Viktor's legs harder against the ground, making sure the brace is trapped between it and his leg. Once he’s got his legs secured, he grinds him down until he hears the supports of the brace scraping the ground. Every place Hector touches needs to burn, to hurt, and each one needs to leave a mark. 

A threat, no, a promise that he will come back.

That Viktor’s body didn’t belong to him, to some fucking baby or any other man. That he belonged to Hector and Hector only. 

Unable to breathe, Viktor claws at the hand at his neck, trying his best to pry it from his throat. Hector isn’t just suffocating him, he’s attempting to crush his windpipe. Of every act of torture he’d withstood from Hector, this act felt like Hector was trying to kill him. Starting to panic, Viktor struggles harder, running out of whatever reserved oxygen he had in his system with his quick and unsteady movements.

Purple eyes burrow into him, Bronte’s screaming is near ear shattering.

“If you were obedient,” Hector leans down and licks across Viktor’s cheek, “I’d make you feel good.”

Keeping his face close, Hector’s squeeze gets tighter, he wants to feel and hear Viktor’s gasping up close and personal. Black blotches spread across Viktor’s vision, colliding together to form an expansive void with only Hector’s deranged face between the cracks. He had fought so hard but now he’s terrified and he can’t find purchase to fight Hector off. 

“I don’t like how you don’t respond to me anymore. I need to remind you who the fuck you belong to, another mark will do nice…This time maybe I’ll give you two. ”

On two, Hector squeezes more.

Bronte’s thunderous cry is the only thing he can focus on now, the only thing he can hear.

Bronte, Viktor thinks, mind in agony, My baby.

If he could yell for help, he would have.

Help, please.

Jayce!

“This only happened because of you, ” Hector squeezes tighter, hoping something will snap or give way under his grip, “remember that.”

The moment Viktor’s eyes start to roll back, Hector releases his throat and gives Viktor a chance to gasp for air. It burns and he tastes blood in the back of his throat, his chest heaves as his lungs beg for oxygen. It hurts, each gasp felt as though something was logged in his throat.

There had been a time once, when Viktor had gotten sick and needed to be hospitalized in Zaun, that Hector visited him. It was at the start of their relationship, he had smuggled in some ice pops for Viktor to have because his throat was sore. He kissed his throat and wished him well, Hector manipulated him into using his poor mouth to suck his cock right on the hospital bed. Even the days where Viktor had thought were acts of kindness, where he thought that Hector had truly loved him, were all selfish acts.

In this brief moment, he breathes Hector’s scent in. That vile rotten egg smell that he started to exude before Viktor was able to see the warning signs of abuse. His lungs yearn for oxygen regardless of that putrid smell.

It wasn’t over, this moment was only to prolong the trauma. Hector grips onto Viktor’s jaw as he reaches into his back pocket. Viktor doesn’t notice this, he’s too focused trying to get a decent breath. 

“You are going to think of me, anytime you look in the fucking mirror,” Hector spits as he pulls out a pocket knife, it’s snap catching Viktor’s attention, “And you are going to wonder, who else could love me? When I’m so fucking ugly?”

Viktor knows he can’t stop it, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try. Being unable to breathe drained his body of any strength it had left, but he tried to push back against him. Tears spill from his eyes as he blade makes contact with his hairline.

At first it stings and Viktor sees white, but as Hector drags the knife down towards his eyebrows it feels like hot lava running down his face. Again Viktor kicks, he struggles, but it’s to no avail. Blood spills from his face as Viktor tries to scream, Hector’s hand is practically holding his mouth shut as he focuses on disfiguring him.

It hits him harder than Hector ever did as he realizes that he bleeds from the place where Jayce had kissed him.

Five times

Just days ago, Jayce’s lips had pressed gently against his skin

Now Hector was cutting it out-

No, he was carving it out.

Just like he had scooped the will to live out of Viktor, along with his dignity, and his sense of self. Hector had hollowed him out, leaving him a shell of his former self and just when Viktor believed that hollow space was beginning to fill Hector carved anew.

Right when Viktor thought that everything was on an upward climb, when he was thinking less and less about Hector and more about his own healing. Right when he was going to officially start therapy and work through everything.

This had been the longest Viktor had gone without Hector’s hands upon him in years. 

At one point it had brought him relief that according to medical journals, the life cycle of skin ranges from four to six weeks on average. Which meant that by now, Viktor had shed any bit of skin that Hector had touched with his vile fingers. While that skin shed away and grew anew, it did not erase the broken bones, it didn’t erase the scars upon his skin nor the emotional torment he lived with. It brought him a little bit of peace, that his body rejected Hector at a cellular level.

Four to six weeks had passed, Viktor had made it so far that Hector’s touch had fallen to the wind.

Four to six weeks had passed and now Hector was holding him down, burrowing into his flesh once more to leave hatred and wrath to scab over and scar.

Four to six weeks had long since passed, Viktor had just gotten a new job, he’d been kissed, he’d been made to feel anew.

He made a nest, scented and shared it with someone he truly cared about.

He’d been kissed, simple and serene.

If he was able to swallow love, if he was able to consider himself worthy of it, Viktor would have thought each kiss was filled with it.

Hector’s body presses harder against him and Viktor is no longer in the parking garage, he’s in the rat infested apartment after a night of humiliation and depravement. Hector’s grip is reminiscent of a time that he’d wanted to place behind him, but Bronte’s cries, now muffled by the sound of blood rushing past his ears drive him forward.

So far forward that Viktor’s clawing at Hector, he’s no longer just trying to resist him, he’s trying to cause some bit of damage. If  it wasn’t just for damage, it would put his skin under Viktor’s fingernails, it would make it obvious for anyone who looked at him that he had done something terrible. Whether there are cameras pointing at them, he doesn’t know.

For the first time, Viktor has the intense urge to fight. Jayce and Bronte have reminded him just how beautiful life is, they’ve revitalized his desire to live.

He claws at Hector’s arms, his hands, and his face just like he had the door to their bedroom. Viktor doesn’t lay down and take it, he doesn’t give Hector what he wants, he’ll fight even if it kills him.

He struggles, he fights, but it’s getting so much harder to keep going.

Headwounds are dramatic, bleeding to the extreme no matter the size of the wound. This one is no exception, plus this one is also not a simple cut. Blood oozes from the wound, smearing towards his hairline to crust while some runs towards his eyes, breaching his eyebrows and combing with his tears. It blurs his vision more than the lack of oxygen did, he sees red. The clarity of his vision added to the fear of being attacked in such a horrific way. He’s fearful that the knife will pull back and end up in his chest or his abdomen.

He’s running on instinct, the desperate need to survive.

Viktor screams, in a combination of horror and pain but it doesn’t sound as it should. While it’s partially primal, it’s equally broken and silent. Again he tries, his lungs collapsing before expanding as much as he can muster to call out once more.

His voice cracks, his larynx bruised under Hector's palm.

And Hector’s not letting up, meat is being removed from his forehead and no matter how hard he tries, Viktor isn’t able to keep some parts of Jayce against his skin. He feels the blade as it grates against his skull.

It’s not hard for Hector to fight Viktor off and even if he does manage to draw blood, it’s not enough to stop him. So he carves a diamond into the center of Viktor’s forehead and once he’s completed with his work he draws the knife back.

Seeing Viktor’s face covered in blood feeds his euphoria, it feeds his desire to hurt him more, to feel something puncture under the weight of his hand. He’s driven by rage and the fact that he’s lost control of the one thing he thought he’d have forever.

“The last thing you’ll see is me,” Hector pulls the knife back over his head. The force that Hector is planning to gouge Viktor’s eye out, would be enough to kill him instantly.

The knife swings down and Viktor’s eyes widen as his body locks up and he loses all feeling. Instead of staring the knife down, he shuts his eyes tightly and imagines every moment Jayce held Bronte. From the first to the most recent, he pictures her in his arms, he pictures his handsome smile and the pure look of love he has on his face.

Viktor pictures Jayce looking at him with an expression just as soft, even if sometimes it’s tinged with sadness. There have been smiles filled with adoration, with encouragement, and pride. All things he’d want to imagine before his life ends.

If Hector buries that knife deep into his grey matter, he hopes that someone will come before he can do something to Bronte. He hopes that cameras are activated in the parking garage, he hopes for a lot. But there really isn’t time for that, those hopes are obvious, he doesn’t actively think them as a knife comes barreling towards him.

Viktor braces himself and right before suspected impact, he feels a sudden release of pressure. The hand at his jaw has been ripped from him, Hector’s body has been removed from his own. Thrown back against a car with so much force that the car alarm starts going off.

Rolling over, Viktor tries catching his breath as blood continues to trickle into his eyes. Each breath feels like he’s doing it through a straw, not a single one satisfying. For a moment he thinks that Hector succeeded in taking his eye, that he was in so much shock he didn’t realize it.

That it was just another thing that he’d taken from Viktor.

Wiping his eyes he looks up, his vision clearing along with his ability to hear the additional sounds that have entered this horrible situation. 

It takes a moment for Viktor to realize what’s happened, to process that Jayce had ripped Hector off him. Everything moves so quickly, the hands around Hector’s throat as it appears that Hector is punching Jayce in the back. The quick release of Jayce’s hands from his neck as Hector pulls himself closer to Jayce, limiting his range of motion in what almost appears to be a hug.

It’s not a hug

And it’s not a punch.

Hector was stabbing him, blood was seeping from Jayce’s back yet he didn't pull back or stop. Jayce doesn’t make a reaction to the blade tearing through his skin and muscle, he’s blinded to it. After seeing Viktor being held down and all the blood on his face, there was no possibility that Jayce was going to hold back.

If  he beat Hector to death, he’d deal with the consequences after.

Through it all, Jayce continues to fight and pouches Hector in the jaw hard enough for his head to bounce off the asphalt. There’s a rage in his eyes and painted across his face, some of Hector’s blood sprays across it but he doesn’t think to stop. He can’t.

Jayce can hear Bronte’s crying and Hector’s yelling, it concerns him the most that he can’t hear Viktor. Viktor’s lips are parted each time he glances at him, but there’s no sound coming out and Jayce can feel the distress in the air.

It tears his heart into pieces and Jayce swears he’ll do the same to Hector.

Viktor tries to sit up but his arms are weak, when he does manage to lift himself up his vision begins to black out. So much so that he sways, he tries to steady his breathing in an attempt to stop it but it doesn’t. And even then when he tries to breathe, it’s difficult and wet, it’s almost impossible not to cough.

Tears still stream down Viktor’s face as his hands drop to the pavement, he tries to steady himself but a wave of nausea makes him sick as he vomits. It hurts, it burns. His body shifts from hot and cold but still he persists in attempting to push himself up.

He needs to get Bronte away from here, he needs to get help.

Staring forward he watches as blood spills onto the concrete and Viktor can’t understand a word the two men are saying to each other. Bronte’s cries mixed with the blaring car alarm are the only things he can hear other than a slight ringing. Viktor knows that he’s not processing everything at the right speed either because it takes him longer than it should for him to realize that Jayce is bleeding.

Viktor screams, but it’s captured by the void, leaving his anguish falling to silence.

He doesn’t hear Ekko skating up from behind, phone to his ear as he calls for help. What Viktor does hear is the sound of a gunshot and he watches as the frey stops instantly. Hector holds onto his shoulder, his hair pulled from its bun as he glares daggers behind Viktor for just a moment before running off. Viktor doesn’t follow the direction Hector goes in, instead turning his attention  to Jayce.

Jayce doesn’t chase Hector, the moment the bastard runs away he leaves Jayce’s thoughts like a fleeting nightmare. Right now the only thing he thinks about is Viktor, there has been so much blood on his face. He’d run up when he saw the knife about to plunge towards Viktor but he hadn’t known if that was the second stabbing.

Worry explodes in Jayce as he pushes himself up and stumbles towards Viktor, he wonders if fighting Hector had been the right move. If those moments would be detrimental to Viktor’s health or safety, Jayce himself still hasn’t registered that he’s bleeding out himself.

A shuddering breath leaves his lips as he falls in front of Viktor, one knee lands in his vomit but he doesn’t even flinch. With trembling hands he reaches out to cup Viktor’s cheeks, the sight is horrible.

Viktor’s eyes are stained with blood but Jayce can still see the red dots that have appeared on his scleras. His neck is bruised, his face is scraped and the expression on his face rips Jayce’s heart out.

There are no fireworks when he looks at Viktor, it’s an endless sea of black with his own thoughts fading and becoming harder to compute. Still, he hasn’t realized what’s wrong with himself as his body begins to slow and feel heavy.

Something is wrong with Viktor, Jayce knows it.

Something is wrong with Jayce, Viktor knows it.

As Jayce approaches, Viktor doesn’t realize just how close he is until his hands touch his face. Viktor flinches at first, the panic returning before he looks at Jayce long enough to realize that it’s actually him.

“It’s me. It’s okay,” Jayce’s eyes are scanning Viktor’s face, “You’re okay.”

Viktor’s fighting to stay in the present, to keep himself cognizant of the world around him, to keep himself grounded and not leave Jayce to deal with this alone. But it’s getting increasingly difficult, it’s even harder to keep himself conscious but he knows he needs to. Again Viktor tries to talk, fluid drips from his mouth as he moves his jaw up and down, his lips feeling numb around each word.

He doesn’t know if it’s more vomit, if it’s saliva or blood, Viktor lifts a hand to catch it as it drips downward but Jayce keeps his eyes staring forward. He doesn’t want him to look down and Viktor doesn’t fight it, only staring through the black spots to see Jayce.

“Baby,” Jayce takes a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, “Don’t try to talk. Okay?”

Baby solidifies the fact that Jayce does look at him with affection, it proves that the way Jayce looks at him is more than with a friendly respect. If their situation wasn’t so dire, Viktor would have blushed and stuttered over himself.

He’d have likely pulled away and Jayce would have gently guided himself back to him, his arms would wrap around him and he’d call him baby again. He’d do it until Viktor’s legs grew weak, until his heart beat out of his ribs and until Jayce himself would be stifling laughter.

Viktor would have been flustered, just as much as when Jayce gave him praise. Only this time, it would make his heart flutter in a way that would heal something in him.

If the world had been kind, Viktor would return the gesture by reminding him that they hadn’t gone on a date yet. That their situationship, their relationship, hadn’t gone in order and started with a baby.

Instead Viktor’s vision trembles as his body sways, the void mocks him by giving him the most heartbreaking pieces of Jayce. The blood dripping from his nose, the cuts on his face, the way his skin is starting to pale quickly. That’s when Viktor remembers that Jayce’s back is injured, he needs to tell him.

Again he tries to talk, only to wheeze.

“Shh,” Jayce lifts a hand to Viktor’s hair, petting it slightly before looking down to Vitkor’s chest and body, looking for any more damage, “Tell me later.”

“Two ambulances, Boy savior” Jinx has made it to their side, her gun safely hidden away from the authorities, “Oh my god.”

Ekko’s holding Bronte, gently trying to bounce her and calm her down while on the phone with a dispatcher. He looks worried as he explains the visible wounds he sees on the two of them, he puts the phone on speaker for Jinx to hear as well.

They need to put pressure on Jayce’s wounds, they need to have Viktor lay on his side to help open his airway, they need to keep both of them stable until the ambulances arrives.

“Stay with me,” Jayce’s eyes flutter, “Just…stay with me…” 

The pendulum hovers in stasis.

The only thing Jayce is trying to do is keep Viktor himself conscious despite each of his arms starting to feel heavy. Pain radiates from his back now, both parts searing hot and icy cold. His eyes roll back as he collapses into Viktor’s arms.

Viktor catches him, arms wrapping around his back as his fingers slide into his warm blood. He can only hold him upwards for a moment, his own strength fleeting as he continues to struggle against the reduced oxygen and blood flow. Unable to keep him up, Viktor eases Jayce onto his front, at this point he feels hands on his shoulders but he knocks them back.

Stay with me, Viktor wants to yell, Don’t fall asleep, wake up.

There’s a giant slash across Jayce’s back along with a few separate puncture wounds, each with a varying depth. He whimpers as he picks a wound and puts his hands over it in an attempt to apply pressure.

Hands are on him again, he’d scream if he could, tell them to stop if he could, but he can’t. Instead he holds firm as the blood oozes between his fingers, he stares until his vision goes black and he slumps onto Jayce’s back.

There are hands on him again, he can’t hear anything, he can’t fight back.

Notes:

All art will be linked to a thread on my X, If there are enough people who'd like to see it on ao3 attached to this series let me know.

https://x.com/corkyno/status/1952484550887845923

Look out for the chapter specific art that will be posted by Tay (and retweeted by me)

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Pendulum