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Viktor felt numb.
He’d gotten home from the hospital the previous day, after over a week of sterile white walls and cold latex gloves. He’d spoken to doctors, nurses, psychiatrists, therapists—
Well. They’d spoken to him. Viktor hadn’t felt like talking much.
There was a plan in place, and Viktor was allowed to go home. The world around him was little more than a collection of blurs, unsaturated and unclear. He felt empty, because if he didn’t, he felt angry, furious at himself, despairing at what he’d inflicted on his family.
Powder wouldn’t leave him alone. They already shared a room, but she had to be physically picked up and taken away from Viktor if she needed to leave. Vi did most of the picking up and carrying away, Powder kicking and threatening to bite if she wasn’t put back down.
Vi wasn’t much better, though. She was always there, hanging in the peripherals, watching.
Viktor was sitting on his bed, his back against the wall and his legs stretched out in front of him. He was staring at his feet, absently looking at the texture of his socks, while Powder sat next to him and hugged his arm.
She was talking, she did that a lot. Viktor wasn’t sure what she was saying-–he wasn’t listening—but he was sure she was just talking to fill the silence. Because if the silence set in, she’d just start crying again.
Vi was sitting on the floor with her back against the mattress, occasionally making some comment on whatever their sister was saying.
A gentle knock interrupted them, and the door opened as Silco let himself in. He said something to Vi and Powder, and Viktor felt the hold on his arm tighten.
Powder shouted loudly when Vi stood and picked Powder up, forcing her to let go of Viktor’s arm. His sisters left the room and Silco shut the door before he walked over to the bed.
He sat next to Viktor and pressed something into his hands. With a blink, Viktor looked down and saw a mug of warmed sweetmilk between his palms. A gentle hand brushed some of his hair back behind his ear.
“I was hoping we could talk, Viki.”
Here it was. This was where Silco would demand to know why, to tell Viktor he was selfish and all he’d done in the end was hurt their family. His fathers were going to send him back, undo the adoption and get rid of him.
“Did I ever tell you how Vander and I met?”
That was enough to shake Viktor out of his spiral, to pull himself back into his body. He looked up at Silco, frowning in confusion.
“I…thought it was through Vi and Pow’s mother?”
Silco sighed and settled back against the wall, wrapping an arm around his son’s shoulders to keep him close. “That’s true,” he said. “But…there’s a little more to the story.”
Viktor saw a sadness on his father’s face that he was becoming too familiar with over the last few weeks-–only this time, it wasn’t aimed at Viktor.
“Viki,” Silco started, turning to look at him. “I know the least helpful thing for you to hear right now is when someone tells you they know how you feel. Because no-one but you truly knows what’s going on inside your heart. I don’t know how you’re feeling, but…I know what it’s like to feel like there’s no other way out.”
Viktor blinked. “What do you mean?”
Careful of the drink, Silco adjusted their position so he sat back against the pillows and Viktor was settled in his lap. A hand ran through Viktor’s hair gently; it was a familiar position, one Viktor often found himself in when Silco was bringing him down from a panic attack.
“Would you like to hear a story?”
—
“That bastard isn’t worth your tears, Sil.”
“It’s not—that simple, Felicia.”
Silco took another drag from his cigarette, probably the fourth one over the last hour or so. He wasn’t sure, he’d had too much to drink.
He sat back against the crates he’d jumped up onto, the two of them in the alley behind a dingy bar they often went to. The drinks were awful, but strong, and it was cheap.
“Well, he’s not worth destroying yourself over,” Felicia huffed, folding her arms over her chest. She stood opposite Silco, considerably more sober than he was. “He was an asshole from the start.”
“I know,” Silco snapped. “You think I didn’t know that?”
“I just don’t understand why you stayed with him for so long,” she sighed. “He was hurting you the whole time, but it’s not until you found out he was cheating that you finally dumped him?”
Silco held smoke in his lungs for far too long before exhaling, purple smoke floating up into the night sky. That was another thing about this bar; they sold Shimmer for a reasonable price.
Was it reasonable because it was probably of questionable quality? Definitely, but that wasn’t the point.
“At least before that I could convince myself I still meant something to him.”
Felicia sighed, walking over to where Silco was practically draped over the crates. She snagged the cigarette from his hand and dropped it, stomping it out against the stones. “Sil, c’mon,” she tugged on his wrist. “You’re staying at my place tonight.”
“I need another drink.”
“No you don’t,” Felicia pulled him up, somehow always stronger than he was, despite being much shorter. “Just forget about him. Let’s go.”
“Easy for you to say,” Silco wavered on his feet. “You managed to bag a guy who actually loves you,” he snorted, pulling his hand away from Felicia and fishing around in his jacket for another cigarette. “‘Sides, you’re pretty, you don’t have to just go for just any guy.”
“And neither do you, Silco,” she said sternly. “I don’t know why you keep falling in with these jerks–”
“Because they’re the only ones who’d want someone like me, Feli,” Silco interrupted her, getting more and more agitated that he couldn’t find what he was looking for. He did find a flask he’d forgotten about, though.
“That’s not true!”
“Oh shut up,” Silco uncapped the flask and threw it back without even checking what was in it. It was alcohol, that was all that mattered. “I’m just a—a pity fuck for these assholes, that’s fine. I just—thought maybe this one would be different-–”
“He hit you, Silco! You can try to hide it all you want but it was plain to see!”
Silco kicked the crates, anger rising in him. Not angry at Felicia, no, never-–he was angry at himself. He was a mess, he’d been a mess for years, and no matter how hard he tried it was just never enough.
He was too much, too outspoken, too rebellious—
He was also pretty certain he was about to throw up. He finished whatever was left in the flask before dropping it to the floor, wavering again and pressing a hand to his head. The alley wouldn’t stop spinning.
“Silco,” Felicia’s voice was softer as she placed a hand on his arm. “Come on, let’s go home.”
Silco pulled away and started walking. He ignored Felicia as she begged him to go with her, picking up his pace until she wasn’t following him anymore. It was dark, he was drunk and high, and wasn’t sure where he was going.
Whatever. Maybe he could find someone to fight, he thought, his nails digging into his palms.
[Feli, 11:34pm] I need help
[Vander, 11:34pm] What is it? Do you need me to call?
[Feli, 11:35pm] It’s Silco, he’s not doing well and he’s run off somewhere. Connol and me are trying to find him but he could be anywhere
[Vander, 11:35pm] Got it. I’ll take the car.
[Feli, 11:36pm] I’ll send you his number. He isn’t answering my texts or my calls.
Silco let his legs dangle over the side of the pier, watching the dark, reflectionless water. Piltover was practically glowing on the other side of the bridge, blinding even in the nighttime. Did they ever sleep?
It was ridiculous, he was being ridiculous, he knew that. His phone was buzzing against the pavement next to him, Felicia and Connol texting and calling, but he ignored them.
He held a newly-lit Shimmer cigarette between his lips, having finally found one at the bottom of an inner pocket.
This recent break up was just the newest in a long line of failed relationships. Silco was too messy, too much for any guy he’d actually tried to date, so he’d fallen back into just accepting affection from anyone who’d give it to him.
Affection was a strong word. It was just…physical touch, familiarity, empty and hollow, but at least it made him feel something.
Maybe that’s all he was destined for, he thought. Felicia and Connol could have their beautiful lives and have their beautiful children one day and Silco could just fade into the background of some dingy bar no-one had ever heard of.
He knew he wasn’t attractive, he wasn’t pretty like Felicia was. He was all limbs and sharp features, bones jutting out where they shouldn’t, littered with old scars and injuries.
Silco’s phone had gone silent, and he didn’t register that until it started buzzing again. Glancing over, it was another incoming phone call, but from a number he didn’t have saved.
Out of curiosity, he took a drag from his cigarette and answered the call.
“Silco? You there?”
“Who is this?” Silco frowned, not recognising the voice.
“Vander, Felicia’s friend. She gave me your number, said you’d disappeared somewhere.”
Silco looked down at the water as it splashed against the sides of the pier, the wind picking up.
“Are you alright? Where are you?”
“Ever wondered what it’s like to drown?”
“What?”
“There’s peace in water,” Silco wasn’t sure what he was saying anymore. He dropped his cigarette into the water, watching it bob up and down on the ripples. “Like it’s holding you, whispering in low tones to let it in…and every problem in the world will fade away…”
“Silco, where are you?”
Silco hung up and dropped his phone on the pavement. He stood up, never once looking away from the water.
Maybe there just wasn’t a place for him in this world. Maybe…he didn’t deserve any of it.
He closed his eyes and took a breath as he let himself fall forward.
—
“But, your Papa had figured out where I was, from what I’d said and what he heard from my end of the call.”
Viktor was listening intently, his sweetmilk only half finished as he looked up at Silco.
“He pulled me out of the water. I don’t remember most of the details, by the time I was lucid again, there was an ambulance and I was wearing someone else’s jacket,” Silco smiled a little, fondly. “Your Papa had put it over my shoulders since I was shaking so badly.”
“Were you okay?”
“Eventually,” Silco pressed a kiss to Viktor’s forehead. “It took a while, but I had my friends. Vander sort of…took it upon himself to look after me, somehow feeling like it was his responsibility all of a sudden, even though we’d never properly met before.”
Viktor looked down at his drink.
“Viki, I know that everyone at the hospital has been telling you that it gets better, and that it’s worth it to keep going,” Silco continued. “And I know how unhelpful it is—how frustrating it is to hear that, when you’re feeling this way. I wanted to tell you that story, not to scare you, but to show you that…it will be okay.”
Viktor looked up at him, feeling tears building—he hadn’t cried for weeks. It felt like a relief when they finally ran down his face, a sad whine escaping his throat as he buried his face into his father’s chest.
Silco held him tightly, rocking him gently. “It’s okay, Viki, sweetheart,” his voice was soft. “We’re here for you. You have me, and Papa, and Powder and Vi. We aren’t going anywhere.”
“I-I’m sorry,” Viktor sobbed, curled in on himself. “I’m s-sorry–”
“Shh, shh,” Silco pet his hair softly. “It’s okay, darling, you have nothing to apologise for.”
It took a long while before Viktor managed to calm down enough to talk again. He hiccuped, wiping at his eyes and sniffling. Silco handed him a tissue, but otherwise stayed holding him tightly.
“A-after that,” Viktor started. “Were…were you okay? For…forever, I guess? Did it ever come back?”
Silco’s hand hesitated where it had been stroking his hair, and though he tried to hide it, Viktor noticed. He looked up, curious.
“I…won’t lie to you,” Silco said. “I never…tried again, but I did get very close, once more. But I got through it with help from your Papa and our friends, and…Powder and Vi, even if they don’t know it.”
“What happened?”
Silco looked at him with a sad smile. “I came in here to cheer you up, Viki, not bring you down with sad stories about myself,” he chuckled, playfully pinching Viktor’s cheek.
That pulled a wet giggle from Viktor, tears not entirely gone, but already feeling a little lighter. “But you went through all that and now you’re happy,” Viktor said. “S-so…I…can be happy.”
Even if I’m going to die sooner than any of you, he added in his head. I could at least be happy for a bit.
“Of course you can be happy, Viki,” Silco replied. He sighed softly, thinking for a moment. “It was after Powder and Vi’s parents died. I was there, it’s how I got…,” he gestured to the scar covering most of the left side of his face. “This.”
Viktor nodded; he’d heard bits and pieces of this story before.
“When I woke up in the hospital, I found out I’d been out for almost a full week,” Silco said. “Your Papa was beside himself with worry. I don’t think he’d slept at all. He was relieved when I woke up and the doctors said I’d be okay, but then I found out that…I was the only one to survive the crash.”
“I don’t like hospitals,” Viktor murmured into his mug as he finished the last of his drink.
“Mmh, I don’t think most people do,” Silco smiled. He took the empty mug and set it to the side, settling down further against the pillows. “You know you can talk to us about anything, right?”
Viktor didn’t reply.
“Your Papa and I want you to talk to us, even if you think it’ll make us upset or angry,” Silco continued. “Because we love you. You’re our son and all we want is for you to feel safe and happy. Things might feel…hopeless, and dark, like there’s no other option, but I promise you, there is always another option.”
Viktor curled up more against Silco.
“You’re loved, my little Viki. You are so, so loved.”
“I l-love you too, táta,” Viktor managed, his voice thick. “I’m…n-not good at talking a-about…”
“We’re here to help you,” his father replied. “You don’t even have to talk. If you just want to sit with us, that’s absolutely fine too. Just promise me you’ll come to us if you ever need anything.”
Viktor sniffled, exhaustion overcoming him. He’d always heard Vander complain about Silco being cold, but he was still warmer than Viktor ever felt. He could hear Silco’s heartbeat from where he’d laid his head.
Viktor always thought that Silco and Vander had been happy their whole lives, but he realises how much of a childish fantasy that had been. Still, to know that his father had gone through all of that and still came out the other side…
Viktor knew he was going to die, but that didn’t mean it would be by his own hand. Maybe he could still enjoy his limited life span.
“There’s one thing about your story that I don’t agree with.”
“Hm? What’s that?”
“You said you didn’t think you’re pretty,” Viktor pouted. “I think you’re pretty.”
There was a brief moment of silence before Silco started laughing, and Viktor couldn’t help when he started giggling. Silco pulled Viktor closer and pressed their foreheads together, a traditional Zaunite show of affection.
“You’re very pretty too, my little Viki. I cannot wait to see the wonderful things you’re going to achieve, my clever, brilliant little Viki.”
When Viktor fell asleep that night, it was laid against Silco’s chest, with a smile on his face. He slept peacefully for the first time in months.