Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“What are these made of Jayce? Lead?” Sibling-like, Jayce could tell Caitlyn Kiramman was exaggerating her complaints simply because she liked to tease him and was the only friend he could call on at such short notice to help him carry materials from the postal bureau back to his apartment. “This is revenge for me beating your shooting record again, isn’t it?”

Jayce glanced back at her and smiled.

She’d sprouted up like a weed in the last year, as if in desperate competition to match his height, and her striking face was lively with good humor. “Everyone else is busy with preparations for the Distinguished Innovator’s competition. You were all I could find on short notice. Not my first choice.” He teased her right back and nearly broke into laughter on seeing the sharp sparkle in her big blue eyes. It was dangerous to bait Caitlyn; she was feisty and intelligent, a dangerous combination when paired with the innate confidence all Kirammans seemed to possess. 

“I didn’t realize.” Caitlyn hoisted the box a little higher. “Have you had trouble sleeping again? I thought you looked a little tired, but you science types always look like you haven’t slept in days.”

Good memory.  

Jayce always had disturbing nightmares during certain times of year, likely thanks to the stress and these past few days had been no different.

Ever since he’d made the anxiety-inducing journey to the undercity, he’d been plagued by dreams of his crime being discovered, of the council swallowing him whole, of the city crumbling to pieces beneath his feet. Haunted by the memory of them in the waking world, Jayce had been having headaches that speared his temples when he wasn’t careful. He must have mentioned it to Caitlyn offhandedly one day and she’d committed it to memory. 

“A little,” he admitted. “I have something new I’ve been working on and…it’s volatile. I just have to run some more tests before it’s ready.”

“You going to tell me what it is, or are you going to keep being cryptic?” 

It was technically illegal, was what it was . The less Caitlyn knew, the better, so he tried to play his dismissal off as light teasing. “And risk you taking the ideas to one of my classmates? I don’t think so.” Caitlyn smiled and rolled her eyes. “Maybe because all you currently care about are your sharpshooting scores and the attractive loner in your homeroom, you may have forgotten that Piltover’s institutes of higher education are notoriously cutthroat.” Even more so for someone like him who had no family money to fall back on and was relying on the charitable sponsorship of a house that saw him as an investment. If he didn’t deliver something that could turn a profit, the money would go to someone who could.

Cait didn’t need the reminder that it was her family specifically to whom he was beholden.

“On the contrary, I also care about deviling my mother until she lets me take the enforcer proficiency exam.”

“I don’t envy you there.” Jayce laughed. Cassandra Kiramman was a steely, ambitious woman who, much like her only daughter, was used to getting her way. From Caitlyn’s frequent complaints, it seemed her mother had hoped for her to take interest in a career in politics, patent law, or even international trade, but Caitlyn had set her heart on being the commander of the enforcers. It was a future her mother had not envisioned and definitely did not approve of for the sole heir to the Kiramman family and they’d apparently had multiple heated fights about the subject. “I actually don’t know what I would like least: trying to convince your mother to let you take the exam or trying to wrest the title away from Commander Grayson.” Jayce had met the woman once or twice at the Kiramman family estate and was impressed by her sage yet steely demeanor and the clear sense of duty she took to heart. “She seems like the type to outlive us all.”

“I can do it, Jayce.” Caitlyn insisted and there was fire in her tone. “I have the marks, I have the shooting skills, I’m confident in my leadership, I know I can do it.” 

“I know you can too.” Jayce bumped her with his elbow in a show of camaraderie. 

This was why he liked Caitlyn so much. She, more so than some of his affluent classmates, understood the idea of having to be reliant on someone else’s whims in order to claw towards her dreams. A change of topic was in order and thank the gods they had reached the Piltover University campus district. Classes had just let out for the afternoon so there was a sea of students to wade through on the sidewalks but Jayce towered over most of them and the strength of his body let him push through the throng with ease.

“Stay behind me, Sprout.” 

She did stay in step close behind him and laughed on seeing that Jayce was not the only one with a gaunt, exhausted look. 

The Distinguished Innovator’s competition recognized a variety of fields of study, even though the main focus was on science and engineering, and students from all majors were beginning to settle in for the sleepless nights and endless tweaking of their projects. Even Jayce’s classmates could offer little more than a nod of recognition. Only one person actually spoke to them on the final stretch to Jayce’s apartment after someone accidentally bumped into Caitlyn and jostled the box in her arms.

“Excuse me, miss,” a fellow student stopped on the sidewalk and stepped close to Caitlyn to right a piece of equipment that was dangling fairly close to the edge of her cargo. He inclined his head respectfully. “Didn’t want that to fall out.”

“Thank you,” Caitlyn hoisted the box a little higher and grinned at him.

“Your mother would have me in combat training for weeks if we break any of this.” Jayce laughed and the young man seemed taken by the sound. He was Jayce’s physical type, as far as men went: dark-haired, wide-eyed, and lithe, flushing slightly as Jayce beamed at him. It had been so long, he’d been so focused on his studies, when was the last time he’d thought of anything except his projects? “You’re a lifesaver.”

The boy flushed and nodded again, continuing on his journey before Jayce could say anything else. Caitlyn bumped his back with the box in her hands. “Poor thing! You scared him off. He looked ready to melt at your feet.”

“I didn’t do anything.” Jayce rushed to defend himself but Caitlyn had already made up her mind.

Her expression was imperious with disbelief. “Far be it from me to overstep—”

Jayce snorted. “You would make an admirable politician for all that you like to meddle in my life, Cait.” He burst into all out laughter as he felt a boot kick solidly at the back of his thigh.

“You know, I think if you found someone pretty to distract you from all of these mystery projects that stress you out, then I think you’d get more sleep and less headaches.” She arched one ink-black eyebrow in challenge. “And I’d think it would be easier for you since you have your pick of equally frazzled men and women in need of distraction.”

“My pick?” Jayce gave her a sidelong glance. “Is the great Caitlyn Kiramman paying me a compliment?”

Caitlyn, by her own admission, had only ever been attracted to women but it was uproariously funny to watch her try and find an honest compliment to a man’s appearance, even when the man was a personal friend. “I mean, you’re tall, I suppose. And your hair is,” she looked up at the top of his head and seemed at a loss for how to sound genuine, “alright.”

“Doing great, Cait. Perfect vote of confidence.”

“Well, hopefully you winning the competition will be enough for the people who keep batting their eyelashes at you to forget some of your more egregious traits.” Her mouth twisted up at the corners before she even got the words out and Jayce laughed in amazement. “Stubborn, a workaholic, incapable of carrying your own boxes in spite of all those hours you spend in the forge.”

“And you are unbelievable. Let me get my keys.”

His apartment, paid for out of the Kiramman family accounts, was a source of personal pride for Jayce.

Unlike the humble single family flat he’d grown up in with his mother on the outskirts of Piltover, this was directly in the city center and only a five minute walk to the university campus, at the epicenter of everything. It still awed him when he considered the vast cultural divide between the way he’d grown up—relying on the interest of his father’s savings and the decent name of the Talis family—and the lifestyle Caitlyn and her peers enjoyed. He was astounded on seeing the living stipend he’d been granted to outfit his rooms and even more alarmed to see how the other students in the building spent money as if it was burning in their hands.

He had the entire western side of the fourth floor to himself, complete with a large main suite and a guest room which he’d stripped down and repurposed into a private lab and study, complete with a chalkboard that spanned from floor to ceiling. He’d never have access to such a thing without the Kiramman patronage and nothing spurred him to innovation quite like the remembrance that all these fine things were on loan. He wouldn’t lose it. 

Pride had not been on Caitlyn’s list of flaws, but Jayce would willingly admit to having it in spades.

He knew he was brilliant and a hard worker, that he wouldn’t be relegated back to the forges of some very minor family, hardly worth noting. He wanted the recognition, respect, and security that only a true paragon could secure in a city that knew no lack of brilliant minds.

Those crystals. It was worth the risk .

And no time for flirtations either when there was so much work to be done.

Jayce fished the keys from his back pocket so that he could unlock the ground floor entrance and then it was simply a matter of climbing up the four flights of stairs to reach his floor. Footsteps muffled by the plush carpet runner in the hallway, Jayce had just separated his door key on the ring when he heard noises from inside his apartment.

His blood froze over. Someone was inside—several people, in fact. He could hear them talking in hushed tones, hear their footsteps on his wood floors, and the sound of hands rustling through his belongings. Had the enforcers called for a raid? Had he been followed up from the undercity? He’d been so careful, even using his own money for the purchase…

Jayce hastily set down his box in favor of forcing the key into the lock and Caitlyn must have seen his expression turn.

“Jayce? What’s wrong?”

“ Fuck !” There was a clear curse from the other side of the door and a weight slammed hard enough to rattle the frame as Jayce tried to open the door and found it immovable.

“Who’s there?” Jayce pounded on the door with his fist as he continued to try and twist the handle. “What are you doing in my apartment?”

“There’s someone inside?” Caitlyn asked and he heard her turn to try and find a safe spot to set her cargo down. 

The intruders were running around in a panic, their garbled speech interspersed with the sound of things falling to the floor in their haste. Jayce tried to use his shoulder to push the person on the other side back but he could only crack it a half an inch before it was slammed shut again. Gods, if they weren’t strong.

“Jayce?”

“Stay back, Cait!”

He was strong; bracing both hands on the frame he used both legs to kick the wood hard before slamming his shoulder into it again. Better a splintered frame than to have thieves run off with his materials . This time it gave a little more and the desperation rose to a boiling point in his chest.

Caitlyn had given him room, watching with wide eyes as he pulled back and used running force to slam against the entrance to his apartment. 

The other person was flagging in strength. He’d gotten it almost halfway open and there was a longer pause than before between his hit and the door closing again. There was shouting from inside and Jayce braced himself, uncaring that his shoulder would likely be sore and bruised the next morning.

Once more, and he’d have it open . 

Jayce leapt back against the far wall of the hallway in preparation to slam his full weight against the door. The muscles of his legs tensed to run and—

It was a vacuum of sound, of sensation.

The only thing that came through was a bright blue light from his periphery. 

It glowed like a star from inside the walls of his apartment and distracted Jayce just enough so that he paused before the vacuum collapsed. The moment of hesitation saved his life as the wall exploded outward. A cyan blast like a lightning strike or a bomb shook the foundations of the building and threw Jayce backwards in a wave of heat that scorched at the side of his face. He screamed as his back slammed into the far wall, he felt the most sickening pain of his life, and promptly passed out where he landed.

“—ayce! Jayce!”

Jayce could hear someone calling his name over the tinny ringing in his ear but it took him a moment to even remember that he could even move his body. It was agony to even breathe. His mouth was dry and his throat burned as he breathed, his face was stinging, his head throbbed, and he could barely feel his limbs. Existence was pain and Jayce didn’t even want to be conscious. It seemed to take him ages but he opened his eyes to hell in the hallway.

The entire wall of his apartment had been blasted outwards, leaving the hall scattered with debris, but it had also been so strong that the explosion had punched a hole through the external wall as well. Looking up with eyes that were still in the process of remembering how to focus, he could see the blurry outline of the Piltover skyline in the spot where his kitchen table had once been. There were silhouettes moving around in the room though…it made no sense. He lived alone and had locked the apartment before he’d left that morning .

His brain was buzzing in an attempt to keep up with all the stimuli, struggling to parse out the puzzle through his pain, when he heard someone weakly call for him again.

“J-Jayce? Jayce help me!”

“Cait?” He croaked, his heart seizing in fear. “Caitlyn, are you ok?”

“Jayce, help, I…I can’t see ! Oh gods, I can’t see!” She was panicking, he could hear it in her voice even though he couldn’t see her, and it cut him to the quick. He had to get to her to make sure she wasn’t hurt. The desperation to get to her cleared the fog in his mind more than anything else had thus far.

“Stay where you are!” Jayce demanded. “I’ll get to you just—wait there!”

Looking around, Jayce found that he was laying on the carpeted floor of the hallway and that pieces of his wall—chunks of stone and metal—had fallen on his legs just below the knee. Thank the gods he was strong; Jayce shifted his hips and pushed the debris with his hands in a savage attempt to wriggle his legs free. His right leg moved with no issue but his left leg…

It felt wrong—too tender, throbbing and yet somehow numb in places—but it wasn’t until his calf brushed against the wall did the severity of his injury set in. Something scraped and it was as if someone had taken a serrated knife to his flesh and bone. The pain was so unspeakable that Jayce could feel it in his teeth, in the back of his throat, the torment so profound that Jayce’s vision went white and he nearly passed out again. He couldn’t help but scream at the feeling and it was so primal that…it didn’t even sound human. Fuck, fuck, fuck— what in the hell had happened?

“Jayce?” Caitlyn cried out in response. 

“S-stay there! Just…just hang on!” Jayce’s entire body had broken out into a cold sweat as he shifted the angle of his left leg by hand. The pain had dulled to ripples but he was under no misconceptions: his injury would send up a similar flare the moment he handled it wrong. “Hang on, Cait.”

He shouted again as his leg pulled free and then immediately turned to vomit once he saw the extent of the damage. 

The center of his left calf was a bloodied, pulpy mess. He could see a deep gash where something heavy had smashed through the skin and a white-pink spear of bone was now stuck at an odd angle out of the gore. Jayce’s eyes swam and his mouth tasted bitterly of bile as he tried to process that this was his leg and not some horrifying hallucination borne of panic. It was a foolish thing to do, but he wasn’t thinking straight, as he reached trembling fingers toward the splinters of his exposed tibia.

“What’s wrong? Jayce a-are you—still alive?” It was jarring to hear someone as proud and cheeky as Caitlyn on the verge of tears. “T-Talk to me!”

Now that he was sitting up, he could see Caitlyn gripping the wall about twenty feet behind him. Her body looked mostly alright but her face was alarming. Something must have cut her head as her face was a solid sheet of crimson, the blood dripping from her chin and coating her eyes; no small wonder she couldn’t see. “I’m alive!” He gasped, nearly vomiting again. “I-I’m still here but…Cait, it’s my leg. My leg’s fucked up. I…I don’t think I can put weight on it. You’ll have to come to me. I’ll guide you, Cait. You’re not far…j-just follow my voice.” It was a decent enough distraction from the state of his leg, guiding Caitlyn through the maze of crumbled infrastructure until her hand was close enough to grab.

Jayce pulled her down to his chest and could not tell if she was hyperventilating or if the rapid breathing was coming from his own chest. Caitlyn’s hands gripped the fabric of his shirt and it took him a moment to understand what she was saying.

“Jayce, I can’t see—I still can’t—”

When he pulled her back and tried to wipe the blood from her face with his shirtsleeve, his stomach dropped when he realized why Caitlyn couldn’t see. Some kind of glass had shattered during the explosion and the shards had raked across Caitlyn’s face. The largest of the gashes had cut just under her hairline, creating the worst of the bleeding, but the injury that made Jayce vomit again were the pieces of glass that had embedded in her blue eyes. It was no wonder she couldn’t see, no wonder there was blood dripping from her chin like tears: her eyes were bleeding .

Jayce wiped his saliva away, steeling his resolve as his stomach churned. “I’ve got you, Sprout. I’m gonna…we’re gonna get out of here, ok? And I’ll get us t-to a medic.” He was unsure of how exactly he was going to get them both out when his leg was fucked up beyond all recognition but he’d carry Caitlyn out on one leg if he had to. He’d crawl to find help if need be. “Keep holding onto me—”

So caught up in his and Caitlyn’s respective injuries, Jayce had completely neglected to consider that people in the lower levels of the building and on the street would have seen the explosion and raised the alarm. Gods only knew how long he had lost consciousness but it was long enough that there was the telltale sound of a crowd gathering outside and Jayce heard the baritone bellow of the Piltover city alarms. He tightened his grip on Caitlyn’s back and was about to turn and yell for help.

He’d forgotten that someone had been in his apartment but they’d clearly also come to in the interim.

The hair on the back of Jayce’s neck stood on end as someone from inside the remainder of his flat began to scream. No…less of a scream, and more of an animal wail of pain and heartbreak. Unsure of the source or the reason for the cry, Jayce could already tell that the sound would haunt him for the rest of his life.

“What—?” Caitlyn looked around in vain.

“Hang on.” Jayce could see the outlines of people staggering inside his blown out rooms and used a chunk of stone to lift himself up a little higher so that he could get a better vantage point. “It’s the people in my apartment. There’s—” The words died in his throat when he took in the horror the explosion had wrought on the other side of the wall. 

The epicenter was still smoking slate-colored fumes, there were arcs of electric blue light fizzling along the lines of the hairline cracks left from collisions, and Jayce’s notes and several of his belongings had been knocked to the ground. Pieces of half-burnt note paper fluttered like snow around the three intruders who’d broken into his home—they were kids, soot-streaked, skinny, shell-shocked children, the eldest looking Caitlyn’s age or younger. The youngest was probably only ten and she was the source of the keening. Jayce could only see the crown of her aqua head as she’d fallen to her hands and knees in front of a body. 

“No…no… no…” Jayce heard his own pleas for it to be a figment of his imagination echoed in the girl’s anguished voice. Another vacuum, a void, an abyss seemed to open up and swallow him whole.

The girl was Caitlyn’s age and even in death she looked like a scrapper with her pink hair cut short and her body laced with the soft muscles of a growing teenager. It was death, no mistaking it. Her pale eyes were open and unseeing, her limbs twisted at odd angles, and she was bleeding. Blood dribbled from her mouth and both nostrils, from both her ears and from two dozen open wounds on her body; Jayce realized that she had likely been the one barricading the door and had been directly next to the worst of the damage. Even though she couldn’t see, Jayce cradled Caitlyn’s head away, wishing he could do the same for the little girl in the remnants of his kitchen. She was too young to see her friend in such a state.

“Oh… no .” One of the boys breathed.

It seemed to break something in the little girl. Tilting her head up, Jayce could see a round face twisted in the most profound grief, tears and snot pouring down her face, as she shook the limp shoulder of her companion. “Vi? Vi! Violet! W-Wake up! V-Violet please ! Please !” 

“Don’t look—” Jayce gasped, his voice strangling in his throat. “She’s… don’t …”

“What is it?” Caitlyn asked. “What’s happening, Jayce?”

Jayce’s racing heartbeat seemed to be echoing into the floorboards but, when he heard voices in the stairwell, he quickly realized that a large group of people were coming to investigate. “We’re up here!” He shouted, shifting as close as he could bear towards the stairwell. “W-We’re alive! Please…please hurry !”

It seemed like eons to wait as the girl called for Violet to come back to her, to not leave— Violet, that was her name. I’ll never forget…never in my life . But eventually a team of enforcers led by a captain shouldered through the door to the stairwell and came racing over to assist. Their captain was in the lead and took notice of Jayce and Caitlyn first; he was about to say something when he too heard the cries coming from inside the apartment. Jayce saw his face drain of color before he removed the mask on the lower part of his face.

“No…oh gods no…”

He seemed transfixed in horror by the girl’s hysteria and his subordinates also froze as they awaited for orders. Jayce couldn’t bear to wait.

“We need a medic!” He called out. “Please I–I can’t—my leg is broken and Caitlyn Kiramman needs attention to her eyes. Please, get them up here!” Caitlyn usually hated using her family’s name to receive preferential treatment but Jayce figured an exception could be made in this situation. And it had the intended effect.

Hearing the Kiramman name had the captain jolting from his stupor and nodding in agreement.

“M-Medic…yes…yes. Helisson, Baekil, they should have been called—the student outside was going to get them. W-Will you…wait outside to intercept them?”

“Yes, Marcus.” Two of them were all too happy to split away and run back the way they came as their captain raised his hands in an attempt to look as non-threatening as possible on entering the remnants of Jayce’s rooms. The ones left to Jayce were not so lucky; at least two of them also lost their lunch on noticing his injuries.

“W-We’re not armed!” The two boys sounded sick with fear as they intercepted the captain, stepping in front of the little girl. “We’re not—” They were from the undercity, Jayce realized on getting a better look at their threadbare clothes. It was no small wonder they had to justify such a thing; Jayce had no idea what the punishment was for undercity thieves but he knew how harsh some enforcers could be on undocumented trespassers.

“It was an accident!” Jayce called out and hissed as the movement ricocheted down his legs. “Please, don’t—”

One of the enforcers closest to him put gentle hands on his shoulders. “It’s alright…mister?” The captain, Marcus, had crouched down next to the body and the weeping girl, who seemed as though she hadn’t even noticed his arrival.

“Talis. I-I’m Jayce Talis.” It took him a moment to remember his own name.

“Mr. Talis. We’re not here to harm anyone. Y-You’ve been grievously injured and you may be in a state of shock. Please, can you…tell us what happened?” They were trying to distract him, trying to keep him from panicking; there were gasps of dismay and further vomiting as he let them get a look at Caitlyn’s bloodied face. In spite of it all—the pain and fear—she still wasn’t crying. 

Robotically, Jayce told them all he could remember about the return to his apartment. Though his voice was calm, he could not help the maddened rolling of his eyes; they flicked from Marcus and the dead girl, to his own ruined leg, to Caitlyn’s face in such rapid succession that he began to feel dizzy. When the inevitable question came— what do you think caused this, Mr. Talis? —he was too out of his mind to think straight.

In his heart, he felt as though he was forgetting something important, a small detail lost amidst the madness. “I-I don’t…I don’t know .” The detail was lost but there was a nagging, insidious feeling that this was his fault . Flown too close to the sun, played with matters outside the realm of your comprehension. Your ego and carelessness are to blame.

This is your fault.

He began to hyperventilate and grasped the bloody patch of fabric over his heart. If he didn’t, surely his heart would give out. The enforcer interviewing him noticed his consternation and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“What’s the status on the medics?”

“On their way up now!”

“Mr. Talis. Stay with me. We’re going to get your leg some attention, we’ll get Miss Kiramman out as well. Just…just stay calm. Stay with me.”

Jayce was incapable of forming a response.

He could only cling to his heart and the solid hand on his shoulder as his eyes— Cait, body, leg, leg, body, Cait, crying girl, bloodied bone, unseeing eyes, blood, bone, tears —until an entire team of medics crowded into the already packed hallway. Jayce couldn’t speak as they pried Caitlyn from his side, wiping off her face with water and cloth— he should have done that, he should have done a better job cleaning her off —he didn’t fight them as they fitted a mask over his mouth and nose. Some kind of gaseous medication was sprayed into his respiratory system until his surroundings took on a hazy, dreamlike quality.

It truly spoke to the dire condition of his leg that the pain was still exquisite in spite of the medication. 

They moved his calf in order to strap a tourniquet in place. He tried to beg them to stop but it came out in garbled moans; Caitlyn took up the mantle where he could not. “Jayce? Jayce! Stop! S-Stop, you’re hurting him!”

He couldn’t correct her. It had to be done. They had to do this to—

“—antibiotics, to keep any infection from spreading. We can carry her down as the injuries to her face are non-life threatening. We’ll need to alert the coroner too since we have a DOA; once the enforcers finish their investigation—” Dead on Arrival.  

Jayce shrieked again as the medics managed to move him onto a stretcher, the jostling of his broken leg a torment though he could no longer vomit. There was nothing left in his stomach. Lifted up high above the ruins of his walls, Jayce locked eyes with the little girl again.

She looked so small surrounded by enforcers and the medical team, and terror had taken hold amidst the sorrow in her bloodshot eyes. He could empathize; this accident had ripped away some measure of his innocence as well. None present would ever be the same as they had.

Reaching out a shaking hand towards her, Jayce wanted to provide some sort of comfort even though the words wouldn’t come. Tears welled over and streaked his cheeks as he was carted away with so much left unspoken. 

I’m sorry. Please… please forgive me. I had no idea… 

Chapter Text

They had to medicate him countless times in the days following. Perhaps it was the size of his body, the extent of his injury, the state of his mind, or a mixture of all three but Jayce was in a medically induced delirium for what felt like days on end. And the nightmares persisted.

He had dreams of his legs being crushed by the hammers in his forge. There were ones where he was starving, parched, crawling on the filthy floor to escape some horrible presence that was after him and others where he heard disembodied voices that were familiar but menacing, their words too soft to make out. He had endless nightmares of explosions, broken glass, shattered rooms, and limp bodies. And there was that horrible, gut-wrenching screaming as well.

Layered under all the other ominous visions, he could always sense the echoes of it and it hurt him to the chambers of his heart. Very little slipped through from the waking world but Jayce did feel the very real tears slide down his cheeks in endless supply.

There was no rest, no relief, no peace. His existence was pain.

When Jayce finally ‘woke’ from his stupor, it took him a moment to remember what in the hell had happened. 

The medicine wore off slowly, easing him into the waking world. He was in a nondescript hospital room, his left leg propped up in a hard cast punctuated with thick metal pins, and memories began to pour back in. The explosion. Cait’s eyes. His leg. The dead girl . His subsequent moans alerted his mother, who’d been reading on a camp cot adjacent to his hospital bed. 

“Jayce? Jayce, love,” Her hands were pleasantly cool on his face as she cleared the hair from his eyes and stroked his cheeks, “I’m so glad you’re awake. How do you feel? D-Do you remember what happened?”

“Mama,” There was some comfort in seeing her, though she looked weary to her bones, “am I…alive? My leg…”

Her expression was heartbreaking. “My sweet boy, you’re alive . You’ve been in and out of consciousness for a week following your surgery.” She clasped his hands in hers, squeezing slightly. “The doctors were able to save the leg but you’ll have a long recovery ahead—almost a year—and even then…you’ll likely walk with a limp.” It was that bad ; Jayce shuddered as he remembered the look of the bone that had gouged through his leg, “You’re lucky the blast didn’t do more.”

“Cait? Is she…is she here?”

“I believe so but I haven’t been able to step away. Jayce,” she looked worried and Jayce braced himself, “do you have any idea of what might have caused this? The enforcers and Council Heimerdinger have been by and asked me some…unusual things about your research,” Jayce felt his stomach twist in guilt; they’d have found his notes and the satchel with the half dozen glowing crystals inside. It was damning evidence. “They said there’s going to be an inquiry.”

Of course there would be. 

“The kids from the underground?” Jayce asked.

“They were trying to take some of your expensive tools, likely to pawn in the undercity. There’s been…word of widespread unrest there as the girl and her siblings were the daughters of someone very influential. By undercity standards.” The memory of the scream hit him in the gut; not just some friend, he was responsible for the death of a beloved sister. He was on borrowed time and yet…there was a bit of relief knowing that his secret was going to be exposed. No more sneaking around, no more looking over his shoulder, hell, he could scarcely recall what in his research had been so goddamn important to warrant this. More important than his mobility? Than Caitlyn’s eyes? Than the life of a child? “You won’t be able to go back to your apartment for…for some time.”

Never . He was under no false pretenses. 

His mother had been so proud of his brilliance, the intellect that secured them a shot at a real future. His heart broke a little as he looked at her beloved face. “Mama…I’m so sorry.”

“No, no Jayce.” She kissed his forehead. “It was an accident. Surely everyone will see that this was just some terrible…misunderstanding.” He didn’t have the heart to try and correct her. The truth would be revealed eventually; it was best for her to keep her peace of mind a little longer until Jayce’s crimes were exposed as the catalyst for this ‘accident’. “You just need to focus on resting and healing.”

He nodded slowly but he felt…oddly numb.

It was overcast outside and Jayce found he could think of nothing else to say in the meantime. There was no fear or regret over falling behind in his work for the competition— what was the point of it ? He felt no dread over the inquest…he wondered errantly if he should ask the doctor checking over his legs if another side effect from such an event was a complete loss of emotion.

There was no energy to talk. He nodded or shook his head in response to the questions of his surgeon and his mother but otherwise stared out the window at the undulating gray underbellies of the clouds. 

Gray, that was how he felt. Bleak nothingness. Occasionally there was a wash of sadness as he recalled the blank stare of Violet and the cries of her distraught sister but otherwise…

He was empty, hollowed out, a shell of a man he could no longer remember. 

Jayce waited until his mother was deeply asleep before he moved from the bed and onto the wheeled stool he’d been left to get to the bathroom. He bypassed the bathroom entirely, instead wheeling himself down the halls until he found Caitlyn’s room. She was alone; her parents must have stepped away and Jayce was quietly relieved. He didn’t know how he would manage to face Cassandra and Tobias when he saw the way Caitlyn was bandaged.

Her head jerked in reaction to the noise of the door of her room opening but there was no recognition since she was bandaged from the eyes up, essentially blind while her wounds healed. “Who is it?”

If his stomach wasn’t completely devoid of food, Jayce might have vomited. His voice broke, “It’s me, Sprout.”

“Jayce?” She reached both arms out towards the sound of his voice and Jayce wheeled himself forward to grasp her hands. “You’re awake! A-Are you,” he let go of one of her hands so that she could trace his face; her fingers stuttered when she encountered the tears rolling freely down his cheeks, “are you hurt?”

“Just my leg, it’s…it’s fucked up. The doctors said I won’t walk right again, even after it heals.” His injury, terrible as it was, somehow seemed trivial when confronted with Caitlyn’s situation. “Oh, Cait,” Jayce groaned. “I’m so…so sorry…How bad is it?”

He almost didn’t want to know as Caitlyn stiffened.

Gods bless her tenacity, she set her jaw and squared her shoulders as if this was simply another challenge to overcome. “They were…able to save my right eye. T-They’re hopeful that I might be able to retain up to fifty percent of my vision on that side. There was…no saving the left eye…”

Jayce bit back a helpless hitch in his breath. A loss of seventy-five percent of her vision? Her dreams of a command post with the enforcers was out of the question. The most basic of tests required for consideration was a vision and hearing test. It was a pale comfort but he rubbed soothing circles on her hands.

“Sprout…forgive me. I should never have…”

If he had just carried his things on his own. If only he hadn’t bought those goddamn crystals. Then they wouldn’t be in this…this hell . It was shameful that she, at fifteen, had taken up the mantle of comforting him.

“Jayce, it wasn’t your…i-it was an accident —it…” Her breath began to hitch and her arms opened in expectation. Jayce had already leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her back. There was something viscerally gut-wrenching about witnessing someone as proud as Caitlyn Kiramman break down. Jayce held her as tightly as he dared and let himself weep silently as her hands fisted in the back of his hospital shirt.

Aside from the occasional gasp for breath, Jayce’s apologies were the only noises in the room. 

Caitlyn composed herself first and moved to wipe her eyes on instinct only to startle into a bittersweet laugh when she realized the bandages would have soaked up the tears. “Jayce, you don’t have to keep—it wasn’t your fault…”

“They were my materials that exploded.” Jayce insisted. “I should never have…” He should never have meddled in those enchanted stones, this power outside his realm of comprehension. His guilt was complete and he hung his head in shame. “I should never have taken the risk.”

“It still…wasn’t your doing. If they hadn’t tried to steal from you—” there was genuine anger for a moment but she was too injured and exhausted to stay angry. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. “I suppose…we should both be thanking our lucky stars that we weren’t crushed to death. My father has said it enough to last me a lifetime.”

“Where are they? Your parents, I mean.” Jayce asked. “I was sure they’d be setting a watch here.”

“I had the doctors ask them to go home at night.” Caitlyn’s mouth tilted up in her first attempt at a smile. “They hovered and I don’t think any of us are used to being in one room together for more than an hour.” Having seen the Kiramman estate, Jayce could believe it; he’d gotten lost in the halls on his first visit there. “My mother keeps talking about specialists , about what kind of life I’ll be living. It did nothing but irritate all three of us so…I at least have peace at night.”

“And here I come to ruin it all.”

“No!” Jayce could imagine the fierce glint in her eyes even under her mask of bandages and she patted her way down his arms until she could grip his hands. “Y-Youre the only one who understands .” They’d both undergone something terrible that had destroyed their bodies and ruined their sense of ease. Jayce understood and he rubbed Cait’s hands.

“Yeah, Sprout. I get it.” He was glad she couldn’t see his expression; he didn’t want to burden her with the true depth of his despair. “I just woke up, and part of me,” wishes I never had , “wants to just go right back to sleep.”

Caitlyn nodded in agreement.

They didn’t say much else after. Mostly Jayce just stroked Caitlyn’s callused hands and watched the subtle changes in the sky from out her window. He treasured this time with her; once Cassandra discovered the full extent of his involvement in the explosion, he’d likely never be allowed within speaking distance of Caitlyn again. Hell, Cait herself would probably come to hate him too.

He preemptively grieved the friendship as the city skyline turned pale with the coming morning.

Caitlyn’s breathing was steady and deep; without being able to see her eyes, he couldn’t tell if she’d fallen asleep or not. “I’ll miss you, Sprout.” He murmured under his breath and startled as Caitlyn shifted and turned her head towards him.

“What did you say, Jayce?”

“Didn’t sleep either?” She shook her head and Jayce softly flicked at her earlobe in a teasing gesture he didn’t truly feel. She startled at the touch, incapable of seeing it coming. “I’m going to go back to my room before my mother wakes up. I’ll see you, Sprout.” 

“Yeah. I’ll see—” She paused, her mouth half open before she could get the final word out. Seventy-five percent of the vision, gone . “Bye, Jayce.”

He turned back for one last look. 

Even with the top half of her face covered, Jayce could tell she’d grow to be a striking woman. A far cry from the gangly, imperious child who’d run up to him in the formal receiving parlor of the Kiramman estate, looked him up and down as she asked him about his business, and—on hearing he was an inventor potentially to be commissioned by her mother—demanded that he calibrate the harmless pop-rifle she used to shoot empty glass bottles off the balcony. So cheeky, full of life, and carrying herself with the confidence of an adult, she seemed to grow like a weed every subsequent time he met with her. 

Gods, he would miss her.

Councilor Heimerdinger’s visit was the first sign that the enforcers and the council had made the connection between his research notes and the illegal magic crystals that he’d stored on his desk. His mentor had been kind enough to visit while Jayce’s mother was away and startled a little, his fur puffing up in alarm, on seeing the state of Jayce. Jayce felt very little on seeing the little yordle; after a few days of being awake, he had tried to find some semblance of his former self and failed every time.

Failure was his legacy, it was imprinted on his leg. He was haunted by screaming .

“Jayce.”

“Professor,” Jayce murmured, his voice creaky from disuse. His doctors attributed his inability to hold a conversation to being in a state of shock but Jayce felt that he had no real desire to speak to anyone. Human connection was painful and he felt detached from it. “Please, come in.”

Heimerdinger looked at him askance as he pulled over a seat. “How are you feeling?” His round blue eyes flicked to Jayce’s shattered leg, giving Jayce a moment to decide how much he could bear to share. It wasn’t much. 

“Fine. How can I help?”

Heimerdinger scrutinized him and sighed, his tiny shoulders drooping, perhaps as he realized that Jayce was not going to open up much more than he already had. “I won’t try your patience when you’re already…having a difficult time of things. And I won’t insult your intelligence either: surely you must know why I’m here.” He had a manila folder in one of his tiny paws and Jayce inclined his head by way of response. “You know that the enforcers have been conducting an investigation surrounding the source of the explosion which destroyed your student housing. Protocol, due to the extent of the damage and the erm…human casualty. They did deduce the cause based on your notes.”

“Professor. I know.”

Pleased that he no longer had to dance around the issue, Heimerdinger’s bushy brows tilted up. “Jayce, that crystal is highly dangerous and incredibly illegal contraband, the likes of which very few are capable of understanding, much less controlling.” And a young girl lost her life thanks to it . Jayce nodded slowly in agreement. “W-Why? Why did you feel the need to make such hypotheses? To take such a risk?”

“You know, professor? I honestly can’t remember.” Jayce said. There had been something in his plans about harnessing magic…about saving people with the same power that had rescued him so many years ago. Instead…

Violet .

“I’m afraid you and several others have already paid a terrible price for it. I’ve come to let you know that a full report was submitted to the council this morning including a detailed account of your notes and the contents of your research. I imagine you’ll receive summons to an official hearing within the next few days.”

“I understand.”

“Not to worry, my boy.” Heimerdinger leaned forward to pat his hand. “There’s still hope through this. If you answer the council’s questions honestly, agree to abandon this dangerous research, and show true contrition for your actions, I’m sure the council will make accommodations for a fine young man such as yourself.”

“That research…was my life . My whole life…” He had taken such joy in it. With his goals and dreams exposed as a bloodthirsty endeavor, Jayce wondered where he’d manage to wrest back any sort of happiness that could fill such a massive void.

“You have plenty of life left to live. To find new pursuits. Perhaps not the life you envisioned, but still one well worth living.” It was difficult to take in Heimerdinger’s positivity when his race could live to such an incredible age. “I have faith that you’ll emerge from this ordeal with your head held high.” His head held high . When he’d killed a girl and blinded his friend. When his shame was so complete.

Jayce felt nothing about his future. “And the kids from the undercity?”

Heimerdinger’s face fell. “Ah yes. Ugly business…The enforcers questioned the survivors before returning them and the little one who didn’t make it back to their parents. I recommend not bringing it up during the hearing as things are…rather fraught in the undercity. There have been some protests following the burial; I’m told some of the enforcers who were at the scene of the accident have even joined in. Such a strengthening of the community brought about by this tragedy…”

He chattered on a little longer about the state of things, perhaps in a valiant effort to raise Jayce’s spirits but Jayce was too listless to provide any sort of meaningful conversation. Eventually, Heimerdinger ran out of things to say and patted Jayce’s hand again.

“Chin up, my boy. You’ll get through this. I’ll see you in a few days.”

Jayce finally thought of a follow up question as Heimerdinger reached for the doorknob. “They’re not going to execute me, are they?”

Heimerdinger puffed up as if he’d been electrocuted. “ Executed ? Good heavens, no! It would be out of the question for someone from a noble house and your first indiscretion as well. No you need not fear the council to be that draconian. Though thank goodness you only had the one gem in your possession. It could have been so much worse otherwise.”

Those passing words gave Jayce pause. He was sure he’d purchased multiple stones—he distinctly remembered a suede satchel full of them—but he was no longer sure if he could trust his mind. It didn’t matter; it would all be over soon anyways.

The Council chambers of Piltover were incredibly impressive, as was befitting the main seat of power for the city. The marble halls were crowded, filled with people from the noble houses who had come to spectate one of their own fall from grace. Jayce Talis, flown too close to the sun , was the general murmur as he limped into the center stage with a cast on his leg and a crutch under his left arm. He felt no sting of shame walking into the final gleam of light cast from the skylights in the vaulted ceiling, only a deadened sense of resignation. 

Regardless of the punishment meted, the Jayce Talis these people might have known was dead. Died in the apartment with Violet.

The councilors did not waste his time, at the very least.

There were seven of them, each seated in a concave of the gear-like table, and they scrutinized him with varying levels of empathy. Heimerdinger smiled reassuringly as he brought the meeting to order while Cassandra Kiramman regarded him with thinly veiled contempt as she read off the insurmountable evidence against him. She was an intelligent woman and had definitely come to the realization of how much hand he had in Caitlyn’s injuries.

Councilor Hoskel, who had connections with almost all the major trade in the city, moved from latent greed to disinterest and disgust when Jayce feigned ignorance as to where he’d purchased the crystals. He’d bought them in the same curios store as he had his other materials but…he’d already destroyed the lives of one family from the undercity. He would not be responsible for the destruction of another.  

“Mr. Talis,” Councilor Medarda glinted gold even in the shadows, her lovely eyes glimmering with feline interest, “surely you knew these objects were contraband. What were you hoping to accomplish by taking such a risk?”

“I was trying to recreate magic.” Jayce responded to her honestly, in spite of the reaction of the crowd. 

There was something noble and trustworthy about Councilor Medarda. In another life, she might have been a dream of his: intelligent, elegant, powerful, beautiful . “You think such a thing is possible?”

“It’s illegal .” Councilor Salo interrupted. “It’s well documented that tampering with these arcane forces without natural abilities and years of study is incredibly dangerous.”

“I believe…given the time and resources to run tests…that I could have harnessed their magical capabilities.” If he was any more himself, he might have been more fiery in his own defense, bringing up scientific evidence from his studies of runes, but he no longer saw a point to it. 

“Mr. Talis, that is a damning admission.” Councilor Bolbok whirred. “Very concerning indeed.”

“Please,” the only misstep came from his mother. She had been stricken on hearing the charges listed in the summons and Jayce didn’t have the heart to tell her to stay home when she had insisted on joining him. “My son, my boy, he has a good heart and a brilliant mind. He just…isn’t in his right mind! I believe he truly understands the error of his ways. S-Since the accident, he has been himself; he doesn’t eat or sleep. He scarcely speaks. As a loyal member of one of Piltover’s houses…and as a mother,” she clasped her hands over her heart and bowed her head in supplication, “all I ask is that you give him the chance to come home.”

It was a social faux pas that had a few of the councilors giving each other meaningful stares. It was the closest Jayce had come to any sort of emotion in days; with his mother revealing his broken mental state and the councilors being so dismissive of her heartfelt plea, he felt a subtle flash of anger.

“Be that as it may,” Cassandra sounded as though she was only one step away from screaming, “ your son’s ‘error’ has utterly destroyed my—” she slammed her hand on the table before she revealed her family’s tragedy in front of all of the most important houses in the city. “In spite of his, ‘noble’ intentions, these allegations are severe. As his former patron, I once thought his character above reproach. But we cannot allow such flagrant violations to go unpunished.”

She likely meant for each word to fall like a blow. Jayce wondered if it would vindicate her in any way if he admitted that he could not close his eyes without seeing Caitlyn weep blood.

“Thank you, Ximena.” Heimerdinger nodded gently in her direction before turning his attention to his fellow councilors. “I have mentored Jayce and I concur that, in the exuberance of youth, his heart was in the right place. A youthful indiscretion, provided that you understand the gravity of what you’ve done.”

A youthful indiscretion. A girl was dead.

Jayce felt an ache ricochet up his leg and he shifted his weight. “Nothing I say…can undo what has been done.” His voice was soft from disuse. “I put so many people in danger. My research has injured my friend and…” he thought of Heimerdinger’s warning to not bring up the undercity but it would be utter disrespect to pretend as though she never existed, “robbed a young girl of her sister. There’s nothing I can…ever do to make up for all this needless pain and for that…I’m sorry. Whatever punishment you deem me worthy of…I’ll accept it without argument.”

They seemed shocked by his acceptance.

Cassandra stared, unblinking, while Councilor Medarda seemed to be searching him for some kind of hidden guile. Heimerdinger sighed and nodded. “If there are no objections, I would like to present the penalty we have deemed sufficient for this—”

“I’d like to say something.”

A second disturbance from outside the high table, there was a distinct commotion from everyone in the room as two men stepped out from the throng of onlookers and entered the light. It wasn’t protocol but Jayce, along with everyone else, quickly realized why the pair didn’t know or care about the rules of the council hearings: they were from the undercity. 

The taller of the two was bulky, roped with muscle that could only come from hard labor, and he’d worn very casual working clothes that were spattered with luminous droplets of paint. Though his expression was grave, there was a deep, profound sadness in his blue-gray eyes. His companion was lean and better dressed in shirtsleeves and an embroidered waistcoat, but his face was twisted in blatant dislike, highlighting the terrible chemical scar that covered the left side of his face. They were discordant and striking in the elegant halls of the council chambers.

“Who are you?” Councilor Bolbok was the first to recover and Councilor Salo followed not long after.

“And how did you gain entrance to this closed hearing?”

“We won’t be long.” The larger man responded and his voice was deep and calm, almost soothing. “In fact, I’d rather not be here. But…invitation or no, I didn’t intend to miss the hearing regarding the accident that…” his voice nearly cracked with emotion but he composed himself, “that killed our daughter.”

The whispers increased in intensity and Jayce felt cold death in his chest. 

Violet . Her fathers. His shame was absolute. 

His legs nearly gave out. If he wasn’t so shocked, he might have fallen to his knees and begged their forgiveness but…it was far more honorable to let them speak their piece uninterrupted. Jayce could scarcely blink as Heimerdinger overrode protocol and gave the man leave to continue.

“Thank you,” he inclined his head, “I simply wanted a moment to speak on my girl before judgment is passed. Surely, though she was only mentioned in passing here, you all must have heard that a young girl died due to this…indiscretion. Violet’s her name and though she was born and raised in the undercity, she wanted the same thing as any of you: food on the table, a safe place to sleep, protection for the ones she loved, security, freedom.” He was a natural orator; in spite of the general opinions of the undercity dwellers as uneducated, ill-mannered savages, no one in the chambers seemed to be breathing in the face of his eloquence. “It can be…hard to find in the Lanes, I’ll be the first to admit. It’s a reflection on my poor parenting, that she felt the need to bypass the checkpoints and let herself into this young man’s home,” it was the first time he looked directly at Jayce and a renegade tear slipped down Jayce’s cheek; there was no accusation in the man’s gaze. Pity and grief, yes, but there was no blame. “But I ask you, with nothing but…memories left, not to condemn her as some petty criminal, unworthy of consideration in this matter of sentencing. Her name’s Violet and she’s my girl. We loved her and I…don’t have the luxury to ask that she be allowed to come home.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. 

His companion placed a slender hand on his arm in comfort and said, just loud enough to be heard: “If one of ours had killed him,” he jerked his shoulder in Jayce’s direction, “it would be an execution. You know it would.”

“I know, Silco. It wouldn’t be the same for one of ours. But I’ve said what needed to be said. Please continue.”

Jayce could not bear to turn his back on the men.

Risking life and limb to attend his sentencing, all for the love of their child. He would not be able to keep his mind in order if he turned to see derision, contempt, or apathy on the councilor’s faces. Violet. She’d been loved. She’d been deserving of the most basic compassion. 

“Thank you for your input, gentlemen.” Professor Heimerdinger’s squeaky tone was grave. “The loss of life is devastating, regardless of the circumstances, and I extend my condolences on behalf of the council.” 

“We feel that your daughter’s untimely demise is penance enough for the remainder of her companions who would otherwise be charged.” Councilor Shoola added, as an offhanded but misguided attempt at easing them further. There was a hiss from the thinner man, Silco, and his glassy eye seemed to shine with latent malice. Jayce choked on the casual cruelty of their careless words. “But we have come to a consensus regarding Mr. Talis’ sentencing.”

“Yes,” Professor Heimerdinger agreed and shuffled his papers, “Jayce Talis, for your flagrant violation of purchasing and possessing contraband magical materials, resulting in the extensive property damage of your building, the grievous injuries visited on Miss Caitlyn Kiramman, and the death of an undercity illegal, you are hereby disbarred from the university, and will never be allowed to enroll again. Your research will be destroyed.” 

Jayce felt nothing. He hoped they’d just sentence him to death.

“In addition,” It was Cassandra Kiramman who spoke next and he could hear the fury just under her cold, impersonal tone, “your punishment will be commuted to either five years in exile or two years served in Stillwater. You will be allowed to choose either option as consideration for your house’s continued loyalty to Piltover and her council. But we will expect a formal decision from you this time tomorrow.”

It was a laughable punishment, a slap on the wrist really and Jayce swayed in disbelief.

His dreams dead, his mind a mess, his leg ruined, and his future a bleak canvas. He could hear the little girl screaming for her sister, screaming for Violet, Caitlyn coated in blood. He didn’t want to live, he didn’t deserve it .

The man Silco looked as though he was going to scream at the councilors, as if he would tear their throats out with his teeth, but his companion shook his head in calm resignation. Their righteous anger would fall on deaf ears and, at best, they’d be escorted firmly back to the border of the undercity.

“Do you have anything to say in response, Mr. Talis?” Councilor Medarda asked in her gentle, honeyed voice.

“I understand.” Jayce murmured. 

The fight had gone out of him entirely.

On his final night of freedom Jayce first tried to go back to his apartment.

His excuse for leaving his mother’s house was that he wanted to enjoy one last night in Piltover before his decision was made and, though his mother looked at him askance, she pushed her worry aside and pulled his head down to kiss his forehead. “Don’t stay out too late. You’ll need all your strength for tomorrow, my sweet boy.” Her gentle touch did not reach him; Jayce was entirely detached from the love and reassurance it was meant to convey.

“Bye mama.” He murmured.

Because of his healing leg, he was forced to use his crutch to keep the weight off of his injury and walking was slow going. He ordered a steam-powered pedicab to take him to the city center to spare his bones so that he could make the climb with no issue.

The apartment itself was nigh unrecognizable. 

It was a yawning void on the side of the building, all the lights snuffed out so that it looked like an endless pit. Jayce felt nothing of his former pride on seeing it. His pride had shattered that terrible afternoon and there was no recovering it; his dreams, his innocence, his joy burned away and lost in that darkness. His mind buzzed with the desire to simply climb up and succumb to that endless blackness— there was nothing, nothing left to live for. I’m tired…so tired…

He thought about how…good it would feel to leap from that height. How nice it would be to no longer be gripped by this…this nothingness.

But his original plan was dashed on seeing that two enforcers were standing guard outside the main entrance. They barred him from entry on his approach.

“Sorry, sir, but no one goes in or out. Council’s orders. We’ve had some problems with people from the undercity slipping into Piltover and trying to get into the top floor.” The man snorted in derision. “You’d think they’d learn their lesson about breaking in after what happened to the fucking rats that tried to rob the place the first time.” Rats. She was a little girl. Her name was Violet and she would haunt Jayce for as long as he lived . “Guess all of ‘em are soft in the head. You understand.”

Jayce nodded though he understood nothing and felt even less. 

It took him nearly two hours on foot to reach the closest bank of the river leading out into the bay. Despite it leading through the university campus, he felt like a stranger in the familiar thoroughfares. That was the issue: he had been changed irrevocably and everything else had remained the same. Tipsy students returning to their dormitories parted around him, their voices grated on his ears—no one noticed him no one would miss him, his failure, murderer…

He’d gone to the riverfront most weekends when he was in high school, drinking cheap wine with his friends as they looked across the water at the undercity skyline. It had been so long since he’d spent an evening there and there was some twinge of nostalgia on seeing the neon fairy lights of Zaun reflected in the dark water. It didn’t seem real.

For a moment, Jayce considered jumping into the water. 

It was a steep drop. He let the blue runestone gem that he’d kept on him since childhood—the reminder of all that had driven him: wonder, magic, innovation—slip from his finger and sink beneath the depths. He counted how long it took to hit, how long before the glint of blue was lost to him.

With his clothes and his injured leg, he wouldn’t be able to stay afloat and his body would be swept into the ocean. His mother would not have to trouble herself with preparing a burial, with having to see her only son dead, and most would assume that he had chosen exile and simply left the city, never to return. The soles of his shoes edged over the lip of the ledge—

There was a shrill, bell-like laugh to his left and he jolted back. 

There were too many people around, even this late at night, and he ran the risk of someone hearing his body hit the water. They’d alert the enforcers, someone might try to rescue him before he drowned. Staggering towards the closest bench, Jayce sat down and considered his options. He was as Caitlyn said: stubborn, even in this.

That day seemed years away now…

His eyes were swimming until the lights of the undercity blurred to haziness. Like stars. Errantly, he thought of those kids growing up in such a dangerous place, hiding now in the maze of fairy lights.

The danger of the undercity…

He’d been warned of it all his life, remembered the steps he’d taken to protect himself when going to purchase the crystals and even then, he’d had a couple of locals eyeing him to try and judge if he was an easy mark. They’d hold no love for someone in Piltover who’d killed one of their children…

The thought dawned on him: surely he could find some bastard in the alleys who’d cut his throat if Jayce looked at them wrong—no…no. The council should never have decided his fate.

He should have gone to the undercity from the start …

Jayce felt the pleasant heat of his resolve and it was novel to have any sort of emotion break through his catatonia. It would be the right thing to do, a final, honorable action to bookend his wasted life. For the first time, the crutch in his hand didn’t feel like a burden of failure.

He leaned heavily on it as he stood and began to make his way southwest. 

It would take him the rest of the evening to reach the closest bridge and it would be the middle of the night before he reached his destination but the timing didn’t matter. The result would be the same. 

Jayce let his mind go completely blank as he started on the arduous journey into the undercity. 

Chapter Text

He was having another run of strange dreams. It had been so long since the first and only time he’d met her at his trial but Councilor Medarda visited him in his dreams, speaking his name with familiarity and desire. His fingers touched the gold plating on her skin, unable to help himself, even as he knew she wanted something from him. Something more than intimacy. And when she pulled back to drop the rough blue crystal in his palms, Jayce gasped as the floor fell from his feet. 

He was floating helplessly with blue runes rushing around him in a vortex. His pulse was in his eyes, his teeth, the crystal was pulling it from him in an inexorable force. 

Before it could pull him in deeper, Jayce woke to the peal of the seven A.M. bells from the Piltover Council towers. The towers and the city skyline were visible across the channel from his apartment and he could see the merchants beginning to wheel their homemade carts to the bridge in hopes of getting the special permits needed to vend on the borderline. He’d left his windows open during the night to let in the cool air, but now the morning sun was beaming directly onto his bed; wonder he was discomfited in sleep: he already ran hot, but even a half hour of this had him glutted on heat. Though it did help with the pain.

Sitting up, he stretched his torso and shoulders before glancing down.

“We live to see another day,” Jayce murmured as he moved his left leg from the mattress and began errantly massaging the spots he knew would ache if he stood too quickly. “Ready, Vi?”

He’d had the tattoo done in Stillwater.

One of the men on his floor had smuggled in the equipment and he’d spent enough time in Zaun to know of Vander, Silco, and the kids. “Felicia’s girl? Yeah I know what she looks like,” there was a fondness in most Zaunite eyes when talking of the girl, their emblem of revolution and hope, “she’s got murals all over the city. I can do a likeness no problem.” The face had been drawn in the nouveau style so popularly etched on Zaunite music records just over the scar tissue on his calf, a spot of bright pink that reminded him daily:

Live. In spite of the pain. Live, you bastard .

He would not let her down. A couple firm hits with his fist to the muscle and he was ready to put on his brace and start the day. 

Though he could not afford to live in Piltover city proper, even with the excellent wages he received for his work, the apartments with a waterfront view in the burgeoning nation of Zaun were well within budget. He’d even found one with two bedrooms so that he could have a workspace and there was an elevator installed to spare his leg. Checking his appointment book as he meandered to the kitchen, Jayce did not have anything scheduled until early afternoon, so he took his time brewing his coffee and preparing breakfast. 

He had just placed his plate down at the breakfast nook when someone began to pound on his door with insistence. The surprise of it had his leg twinging and Jayce grimaced at the tremors in his calf as he limped towards the door. “Coming! Gods, hang on…” The person on the other side sounded as though they were trying to break it down in their haste. 

Pulling aside the peephole common in every Zaunite dwelling, Jayce saw the familiar tips of a fuzzy white head and sighed. He had thought it was some great emergency, but no. Just Heimerdinger in a state . 

“Morning professor,” Heimerdinger was a white blur as he dashed into Jayce’s apartment, “Where’s the fire?” He meant it jokingly but real alarm bloomed in his chest as he saw Heimerdinger’s obvious panic. His fur was puffed up like an alley cat prepped for a fight, he was wringing his paws, and his enormous blue eyes were crazed. Jayce raised his hands in a desperate attempt to assuage the yordle’s intense fear. “Professor? What’s happened? Is everything alright in the city?”

“Jayce!” When Heimerdinger locked onto Jayce, he launched forward to seize Jayce’s hand. “Thank heavens! I’ve spent all night trying to hunt down your location; imagine my surprise to find you here, in the undercity of all places. A-Are you… yourself ? We seem to have been sent forwards or—no, sideways , to different path! Interacting with the wild rune within the anomaly has…” His expression fell to confusion, and then despair as Jayce waited to hear what the emergency was. “D-Do you…remember anything , Jayce?”

“Remember what?” Though it hurt him, Jayce crouched down so that he was closer to eye-level. 

“The h-hexgates. The anomaly we found there. When you…touched it we…we…” Heimerdinger was now staring at the floor with swimming eyes and Jayce felt a twinge of concern for his beloved mentor. Clearly he was having some kind of mental break, if he didn’t recall where Jayce lived. “Oh…oh fiddlesticks…it seems you have no recollection of the ordeal we’ve undergone.” His hands slipped out of Jayce’s and Jayce watched helplessly as Heimerdinger paced the length of his living room. “The anomaly appears to have pulled us through the fabric of the universe to a time and place unfamiliar but…it seems my consciousness has been separated from yours in the interim. I can only hope that you and Ekko will join me in the future or…gods forbid you’ve been sent to another reality—”

There was one aspect of this disturbing monologue that caught Jayce’s attention. He kept his tone light and inoffensive lest Heimerdinger fall into all out insanity. “Professor, if you’re looking for Ekko…he’s going to be exactly where he usually is: either at Benzo’s working on one of his gadgets or holed up trying to figure out what to say to Powder.” If Heimerdinger wasn’t in such a state, Jayce might have cracked a smile over the young man’s long and glaringly obvious crush on his childhood friend. It was amusing to see the normally confident Ekko going a little tongue-tied when faced with the girl.

Heimerdinger jolted as if Jayce had electrocuted him and a sort of crazed hope appeared on his fuzzy face. “Yes…yes. Perhaps I should see if he, at least, was sent here with me…Thank you, my boy.”

“I’ll come with you if you’ll just let me—” If Heimerdinger had forgotten where he lived, then he certainly wouldn’t know where Benzo lived. Jayce was trying to get up to retrieve his boots, mask, and tool belt but Heimerdinger was too impatient to wait. He left Jayce’s apartment while Jayce was in the process of cinching the lower half of his brace around his boots. “Ah…fuck.”

There was no catching the little yordle so Jayce took his time heading out into the city streets. This close to the canal front, it was safe to breathe deeply and Jayce marveled at how Zaun had changed in just a scant few years.

When the barons had been instated, one of their first missions had been to work on the Zaunite infrastructure and public spaces and their initiatives had paid off in spades. Aside from a few remaining holdouts deep in the old town, locals and visitors alike could walk the painted streets at any hour without fear. Incentivized by the influx of money and resources that had previously been siphoned into Piltover as taxes on the undercity, new businesses seemed to crop up daily and many of them needed very specific gadgetry that Jayce could design and create. He was not lacking for work in this new age of Zaun and his work had the added benefit of ingratiating himself with his neighbors.

The owner of the dried fruit store on the corner of his street called out to him as he walked past, a hitch in his stride. “Heya, Piltie pretty boy!” After his stint in Stillwater, he was beyond taking offense to people in Zaun teasing him for his hometown and he returned her jagged grin. “You heavy on work today? I have an idea for a press that none of the other chop shop hacks in the area are brave enough to try.”

“I’ll pencil you in.” Jayce promised, pleased with the idea of a new challenge. With his dream of magic thoroughly tainted, there was still some pleasure to be found in creating something out of nothing, in bringing someone else’s dreams to fruition with his bare hands. “But I have to make a stop at the Drop before I do anything else.”

She understood. 

Even after the revolution, Vander was still a highly respected figure in the nation, even though he seemed content to step back and tend bar while Silco took over stewardship. “Duty calls. Try not to trip, Talis.”

The caustic humor had taken some getting used to but Jayce let it roll off of him. “Oh, and I want a cut of all business that comes in to see my pretty face when I come back.” He joked back to a laughing ‘fuck you’ from the proprietress. Their style of communication was refreshing in a way: brutally honest and teasing in comparison to the polite minefield of Piltover conversations.

The Last Drop was a half an hour’s walk from his apartment on a warm day and there was a conflicting feeling of fondness and trepidation on seeing the lovely building festooned in fairy lights and vines. A place of death and rebirth . Benzo’s Curios and Antiques was almost directly next door and the portly owner himself was standing outside conversing with one of the locals who’d just come from The Last Drop.

As he got closer, Jayce felt his lungs constrict and his face burn.

The young man talking with Benzo was striking. His face was all strong angles—high cheekbones, prominent nose, sharp eyes the same color as honey—but his elegant, pale body was painfully slim. His short, dark hair was deeply lush; Jayce wondered what it would feel like to plunge his fingers in until he reached the top of that slender neck. Dressed in a navy colored robe, cinched at the waist—a waist Jayce could encircle with his hands—with a series of white straps and round metal rings, the satchel around his slim shoulders frothing with yellow flowers, he looked like the ethereal youths depicted in pastels, so common on Zaun’s posters and product packaging. 

It was deep, visceral attraction, the likes of which Jayce hadn’t felt in quite some time and it was only expounded when he saw the man move. His right side, which had been hidden from view, was revealed as he turned. 

Jayce saw the bottom half of a leg brace around the skinny ankle, saw the cane he was leaning on, and his heart skipped a beat. A kindred spirit . He’d long since resigned himself to being alone with his work. After all, what kind of parent would consent to having their child be pursued by someone like him? He had served a stint in Stillwater which would deter most in Piltover and, as much as he’d ingratiated himself in Zaun, he was still indirectly responsible for the death of Violet, the symbol of their nation. And he felt he was damaged goods besides. 

But this man was elegant, desirable, and he had a similar affliction.

Jayce felt as though he had to get close enough to catch the man’s eye or he would not be able to sleep for the missed opportunity. His heartbeat was on his tongue as he walked closer and breathed in the light perfume of the flowers. “Benzo. Heimerdinger came through, I presume?”

The young man startled at Jayce coming up behind them so silently—Jayce saw the tension in his shoulders—but getting this close was worth it to see the brown and gold flecks in those hooded eyes. When he turned to look up at Jayce, the sweet surprise in his expression had Jayce’s mouth tilting up. He was so distracted, he almost missed Benzo’s response.

“Came through like a hurricane ten minutes before.” Benzo sighed. “Looking for the little man. Sent him out to a list of the usual spots since the kid’s been lost in thought for—” Jayce couldn’t focus for more than a few moments. He was caught up in seeing if there was any reciprocal interest in the honey-colored gaze scrutinizing him; there were delicate, distracting moles just above his lip, under his eye, and on the slender column of his neck. “You looking for him too, Jayce? He seemed out of sorts.”

The young man stepped back at the question and turned his attention back to Benzo. Any spark of jealousy Jayce might have felt over losing that attention was instantly mollified when he heard the low, deeply accented tones of Inner Zaun.

“I should return. Let them know if they need any more supplies, I’m happy to provide what I can.” 

With a slight bow of his head to Benzo and a heartstopping glance back towards Jayce, the handsome thing clutched his pack closer and leaned firmly on his cane as he began to visibly limp back into the deeper parts of Zaun. Thank the gods a customer to the curios shop chose that exact moment to draw Benzo’s attention away from the fact that Jayce had not answered his question. This left him free to stare at the attractive stranger walking away.

He should say something. He should call out and introduce himself. He should see if this young man had a lover. But he’d been out of practice too long. An undesirable .

“You’re going to set him on fire, if you keep staring that hard. How’s sis?”

Jayce jumped out of his skin as Powder appeared silently at his side, a feline grin stretching across her face at his shock. “Gods, girl. One of these days my heart is going to give out.” A far cry from the weeping child who still haunted the worst of his nightmares from time to time, Powder was now sixteen and turning from a gangly teenager into a young woman. It had taken her some time to warm up to him, but once Vander and her brothers capitulated, she was soon to follow, though there were some days when she was just as fraught by memories as Jayce was. Days when no one except perhaps Silco or Ekko could reach her through the sorrow, anger, and guilt. Today was one of her good days: big blue eyes sparkling, hair tied up in an elaborate bun, soot and paint smeared on her cheeks. “She’s all good,” Jayce assured her as he patted his left leg. “You know him?”

“I do.” Her pink fingernails flicked against the metal of the wrenches at his hips. “He’s our…mentor, I guess? Before we met you, he was the one we’d go to for parts and advice on getting things to work right. He’s a bit of a tinker even though…he doesn’t really do anything with that genius mind of his.” 

A tinker. A kindred spirit. “What does he do? Where’s he from in Zaun?” Jayce tried to sound light and unbothered and failed spectacularly. 

Powder bumped her shoulder against his arm. “Oh, look at you! Everyone had given up on you for a loner and now I’ve caught you making eyes at the biggest loner in all of Zaun.” Powder whistled and patted his bicep in comfort. “I feel for you, you poor scruffy bastard. You’ve got your work cut out for you . ”

“It will probably be easier than to get a straight answer out of you.” He ruffled her head until her hair was a mess in her face. “That the reason you’re a mess this early in the day?” He licked his thumb and Powder shrieked, ducking his touch before he could try to wipe her cheek clean. 

“I was having problems with the locking mechanism for my project and he just…gave me a push in the right direction.” She pouted as she tried to right her bangs. “A word of advice: if you’re planning to flirt with a born-and-bred Zaunite, don’t try to shuffle his hair like that or you might just snap his head off his skinny neck. People around here just call him a ‘bloomer’ since all he does is grow flowers in the lower levels,” Jayce frowned a little at that revelation; though the fissures were safe from most crime, the air quality was some of the worst in Zaun. “Not sure if he sells the flowers or what, but Silco has given him carte blanche to plant them wherever he wants. But even though he’s helped a lot of us around here, I wouldn’t say he’s…close to anyone. Bit of a mystery that one. Keeps to himself.”

“You sound like Vander.” Jayce teased her lightly. “You gonna tell me his name?”

“What? And deprive you of a perfect excuse to follow after him? Ask him yourself.” She winked up at him. “I’ll find out what’s got the fuzzball bothered in the meantime,” Jayce had completely forgotten about Heimerdinger’s lapse into madness and felt a brief twinge of guilt as he was all too happy to foist the search off onto Powder, “I followed him home once when I was a kid—”

“Don’t do that!” Jayce chastised her.

“Oh, as if you have any room to make a fuss! If you’re not too honorable to chase him down, just follow the flowers through the Nautilus Fissures and you’ll find his place. It looks like a greenhouse.”

Jayce knew that he should go looking for Heimerdinger to see what sort of information he hoped to glean from Ekko but…gods save him, all he could think of were those hesitant eyes, the delicate limbs, the smell of the flowers that lingered. If something was truly wrong with Heimerdinger, then Benzo or Vander would get him to the closest doctor, and Jayce could provide whatever support the little yordle needed once there was a professional diagnosis. He unclipped the mask from his belt loop and waved it in the air.

“I owe you one!”

“I’ll make you regret it,” Powder promised with a laugh as she danced off in the opposite direction. Jayce felt a rush of fondness for the tough kid— ah, how far they’d come —before heading south. “When you come back, be sure to take a look at the locking mechanism, yeah?”

“Sure thing.” He was excited to see what that lovely young thing had suggested.

Thank the gods he didn’t have any appointments until the afternoon, because it took him a further thirty minutes to get to an elevator that would take him as deep as the Nautilius Fissures and the journey down was an additional fifteen minutes. At least Powder hadn’t been lying about the path to the young man’s home. 

Although the infrastructure in the fissure was as equally gray and depressed as any other district deep in Zaun, the ‘bloomer’ had taken Silco’s invitation to garden as he pleased and ran with it. The place was frothing with flowers.

Most were fields of those yellow flowers he’d been carrying in the Lanes, but there were also flowering vines covering the shanty houses, thorny shrubs coated in indigo roses, and, oddly, water lilies bobbing in the water catchalls where the locals would collect rainwater for drinking, cooking, and bathing.

Since the Nautilus Fissure was shaped like the cross-section of the ceramic shell of its namesake, and had no outlet aside from the northside entrance, finding the handsome stranger’s house was no great chore. It was a greenhouse, no mistaking it.

Made of blackened wrought iron which had been twisted into the pleasing loops and whorls that were so common in the nicer buildings in the ‘Old Town’, someone had taken the effort to clean all the panes of glass so that the building looked as incongruous as a faceted jewel in the otherwise shabby neighborhood. It was an unconventional place to make a home by Piltover standards but after living for three years in Zaun, Jayce was well aware of the undercity’s ingenuity. A roof and four walls could be ample space for the poor and desperate. Surprisingly the air quality in this fissure was not so bad, as Jayce checked the trembling needle on the gauge that connected to his mask.

He’d have to let Claggor know. The boy had become obsessed with thoughts of innovations which could potentially improve the quality of the polluted air in Zaun. But first…

His heart rate spiked as he walked closer, the yellow teardrop petals of the flowers tickling along his calves as he found the elaborate double doors to the greenhouse. He was gentle as he rapped his knuckles on the glass of the door and he was rewarded by that low, accented voice calling out for him to come in.

As Jayce pushed the door in, there was the tinkling of bells, the same as the high end boutiques in Piltover—

But no, it was some sort of mobile that had been pinned above the door, the little blue shards of tempered glass falling back like droplets of water as they slid over the edge of the door. The place was lush, as full of plants inside as the neighborhood outside, but there were signs that it was someone’s home: a small camp bed piled with blankets and a personal heater placed underneath, a worktable covered in journals, papers, and tools, a small kitchen table covered in coffee mugs, half-finished machinery, and books to the point where Jayce wondered how anyone could find room to place their meal down. It distracted him for all of a moment.

Then he saw movement from behind the chipped marble fountain in the center of the room and his face broke into a helpless smile.

“Oh, it’s…you.” His face was sweet with innocent surprise and Jayce wondered what this man would do if Jayce moved forward and ran his thumbs down the sharp cut of his cheek. “I didn’t expect to…see you again so soon.”

“I didn’t get your name, from before.” Jayce launched into introductions without any sort of prelude. Zaunites were direct and brash but…moreover, he’d never know peace if he didn’t hear the man’s name from his lips. “I’m Jayce Talis.” People in Zaun didn’t have last names to provide, nor did they usually extend their hands, but Jayce lapsed back to his Piltover manners like slipping into the skin of another. Doubtless, this man would clock the idiosyncrasies but Jayce didn’t care. 

Jayce’s smile grew wider as slender fingers rested over top of his and he gently grasped the tips. If this was Piltover, he’d be obliged to pull the knuckles of the man’s hands to his lips but he had enough self-control left to abstain. His fingers were covered in cloth to the second knuckle but Jayce saw spindly black lines of tattoo ink that marked the bloomer to the tops of his fingernails.

“My name is Viktor.” The name was a balm for Jayce as the man—as Viktor withdrew his hand and protectively drew his arm across his chest. “Is there…something I can help you with? You’ve come a long way from the Lanes.”

“I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” Jayce admitted and then laughed as Viktor blinked in disbelief. “But I’ve heard you’re something of an engineer.” Jayce flicked a finger against the top of his brace, the idea coming to him like lightning. “Would you mind checking my work? A second set of eyes?”

Viktor raised one dark eyebrow and Jayce liked it.

He clearly knew Jayce was using it as an excuse but…gods help Jayce, this Viktor fellow was sweet . He sighed and his lips upturned. “Subtlety isn’t your strong suit, is it Jayce? Go on. Sit down then.” Jayce obeyed, sitting on the lip of the fountain and stretched out his leg for Viktor’s inspection. He was beyond feeling shame regarding the disability; it was a reminder that he’d sworn to live. For Vi. For Violet . Viktor’s fingers were elegant and unerring, never once touching the brace or Jayce’s leg, though he did look fondly on the craftsmanship. “It’s well made. You did it yourself?”

“I did. Never made a mobility aid before but…it just seemed to make sense, given the musculature and the range of motion needed. Made a couple prosthetics since: arms, braces, updated some wheelchairs, even canes…on occasion.” 

“I have no criticisms.” Viktor nodded. “You’re very skilled with your hands and you clearly have intuitive knowledge of these types of delicate aids. And made with a combination of Piltovan and Zaunite materials? Innovative.”

“Zaunite materials are hardier for longevity but the stuff from topside is better for the more delicate joints. Did you make yours as well?” There was a flash of gold as Viktor glanced up at him, a wry expression on his face. “You said it yourself,” Jayce leaned forward, recalling how flustered some people became when he moved closer, “no subtlety.”

Viktor held his gaze and didn’t move back but there was the briefest glance down in the general direction of Jayce’s lips.

“You want to see it?”

“I do.” More than anything . It had been so long since he truly wanted to… discover something, to research, to match wits with someone. To be desired rather than to just blend in with the crowd. His heart was pounding as Viktor gracefully sat opposite him and hoisted up his right leg. Viktor was barefoot and it was strangely erotic. No one went barefoot in Zaun, for fear of lingering chemicals getting into any small cuts. There was inherent intimacy to see someone barefoot, in their own home, sliding the hem of his dark blue robe up, up…

Viktor was wearing skin-tight black fabric from hip to ankle, sparing his modesty and allowing Jayce to inspect Viktor’s brace as closely as he liked. With Viktor’s permission, Jayce gently cradled the supports that wrapped around his slender leg, taking extra care not to touch the leg itself. He couldn’t help but laugh in amazement.

“Great minds…” he murmured errantly. 

Viktor’s brace went up higher on his limb than Jayce’s did, the straps seeming to go up to the waist, but the machinery around the calf was almost an exact copy of the one around Jayce’s. It was as if Jayce himself had designed it and their similarities had him feeling smugly possessive, in a way. Perhaps the forging in the metalwork could use more finesse but…Jayce could always amend that later. The only thing that truly gave him pause were the little T-shaped etchings on the rounded metal discs that connected the metal ‘ligaments’ to the straps.

Viktor noticed as his thumb circled the bitten metal. “In case of an emergency. If someone removed the brace, this way I would know which parts need to face topside.”

“Smart. I’ll have to do that. I’ll forge you some metal supports, as thanks.”

“Now at least you can see why I have no criticisms.” Viktor responded with a flat intonation but Jayce had a feeling he was cracking a joke. “Though I do need a bit more corrective elements than you. It’s been like this for…as long as I can remember. Though, thank the gods, it’s not gotten any worse.”

“A true Zaunite.” Jayce nodded and frowned. It seemed that everyone he met in the undercity had either a physical ailment, a mental issue, or both after generations of subjugation. From Piltover. From people like him who never gave a thought to their neighbors unless it was contempt . He gently placed Viktor’s leg back on the fountain and smiled. “No wonder I liked you the moment I saw you.”

There was no hiding the flush this time; Viktor was far too pale for it.

Jayce grinned, his brief melancholy gone as quickly as it had come, and Viktor frowned slightly at being caught out. “Do you…make it a habit of saying whatever first comes into your mind?”

“In Zaun? I like my teeth where they are, thanks. You’re just a notable exception.” The skill of flirtation was coming back to him after so long lying fallow and it made his lips tingle. What would this lovely creature like? What would make him smile? What would make him laugh ? It was most certainly a waste to go back to the Lanes now. “If it’s not too forward—”

“A bit late for that, no?”

Jayce glanced meaningfully at the workbench in the brightest corner of the greenhouse. “Your expertise wasn’t exaggerated. If you wouldn’t mind, could I take a look at some more of your work?” He was making a gamble in hopes that, like most inventors Jayce had encountered, Viktor would be delighted at any excuse to show his creations, his life’s work to another person who would understand. He knew his eyes would be wide with genuine desire as he asked again. “Please?”

The reaction was better than he could have hoped.

Viktor dark eyebrows tilted up, his mouth opened slightly, and there was an unmistakable shimmer of joy in his sweet gold eyes. The biggest loner in all of Zaun, eh? Maybe it was just no one had shown honest interest in the things he loved . Jayce intended to be the first.

Viktor was brilliant, there was no denying it. Humble and soft-spoken, yes, but a genius and Jayce could not remember the last time he’d had such a good time. It felt like fate, in a way, that his soul had somehow known instinctively and cried out for a man who was his equal in wits. In addition to a face that Jayce could study for hours. The minutiae of his expressions , the way the depths of his eyes gave away some of his inner feelings when he wasn’t careful, the way he flushed and burned with an inner fire as Jayce asked pointed questions about the most interesting bits of his research.

Poor Viktor must have been starved for a captive audience as he let Jayce—who was still almost a complete stranger to him—stay for the duration of the morning. Jayce could have watched him for hours more as he explained how he was able to make the greenhouse a habitable dwelling.

“The most difficult part in these older buildings is to find a way to connect usable water. Many in the fissures still have to walk to a communal pump to get water to boil. Obviously that isn’t an option for me in my state,” Viktor made a wry little twist of his lips, clearly having accepted long ago that this was his lot in life and he was better off making the best of it, “so I had to get creative.”

“It’s a marvel,” Jayce traced his finger through the air, following the lines of the plumbing, “I assume you have a catch for rainwater and run-off. It’s stored and filtered in an external tank, then you recycle it through there before it’s used for the bathroom and then back into the filter…giving you a near constant supply of fresh water. What do you use to filter it?”

“I’ve made my own filtration system for the fountain,” Viktor pointed them out before smiling fondly, “but it’s actually the water lilies that do most of the heavy lifting. They’re only good for a few cycles, but they can be gathered afterwards to be composted for fertilizer for the next set of bulbs.” Jayce did notice some of the delicate petals beginning to brown around the edges, and it suddenly made sense why everyone in this fissure had flowers growing in their catches. 

“Brilliant. A self-sustaining, cyclical solution. Have you told anyone else about this?” Jayce asked. “This kind thing would get you renown even in the Piltover Academy.”

Viktor reached over to slide his fingers up the bulb of a lily that hadn’t yet bloomed. “It’s slow going. I think…in Zaun, we’re still getting used to breathing air that’s ours . Most don’t have the patience to listen to someone from the fissures ramble about plants.”

“I understand.” Jayce nodded. Not to the same extent as someone who’d grown up in the trenches but…two years in Stillwater would make anyone appreciative of the freedom of being beholden to no one.

“As far as the academy,” there was distinct sadness that took over him and Jayce ached to take it away, “Piltover is full of…bitter memories for me. I fear that even though they allow Zaunites to enroll now without the need to lie about our heritage…that my voice might go unheard again without someone of ‘good’ standing to advocate.” He shook his head. “No. It’s not in the cards for me this time. Maybe in another life.”

With the way he spoke, it seemed as though he had tried to come to Piltover in the past and failed. Feeling a little daring thanks to the fondness he already felt for this brilliant ‘loner’, Jayce stretched out his own hand and stroked the same stretch of bud that Viktor had just touched, the tip of his index finger brushing the pad of Viktor’s.

Gods, if he wasn’t weak to those eyes. Viktor looked at Jayce as though Jayce had seized his hand and put it in his mouth. “It’s a small consolation but as someone brought up in the upper city, listening to you has been the highlight of my year. If I didn’t have other obligations I’d take advantage of your hospitality for the rest of the day. But,” he stood as he noticed the sunlight from the top of the fissure taking on the telltale glow of early afternoon, “I have some previous engagements.”

Viktor kept his face carefully blank. “I appreciate your candor.” For some reason, he seemed to be building up walls, establishing a decorous distance that Jayce disliked immediately. He wanted to be close, he wanted Viktor’s hands in his as they talked shop . 

“Would it be alright if I come back to see you again?” Jayce asked as he rubbed at the muscles on his bad leg in preparation for the walk back to the elevator. He knew his face was suffused with hope that people of the undercity might find childish but he swore he saw a little color on Viktor’s cheeks. “Please?”

“If you like—”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Jayce promised, using his good leg to propel himself to the door faster.

“ Tomorrow ?” He began to laugh as he heard Viktor’s baffled response. 

Jayce was having too much fun. It had been so long since he’d been able to speak with someone his age who had the same level of innovative genius and Viktor was stunning besides. He’d promised Vi, Vander, and all of Zaun that he would live . This bloomer, this Viktor had brought so much joy to his morning that he wanted more and why wait? Life was so short and all too precious for any delay.

“Good day already, eh Vi?” He murmured aloud as they came to the brass doors of the escalator station. He spared one look back at the Nautilus Fissure, even though he knew it was going to be a regular sight for him in the coming days. “Viktor…”

Chapter Text

Jayce did feel fairly guilty about not following up with Heimerdinger; after all, his former mentor had been one of the few to reach out to him after he’d gotten out of Stillwater and helped him get established with his apartment and trade in Zaun. He deserved Jayce’s concern if he was going through some sort of crisis and Jayce squared his shoulders in preparation for a long search for him. 

Luckily, he didn’t have to go far. 

Ekko was outside Benzo’s shop checking the contents of a new shipment and Jayce felt a rush of brotherly fondness on seeing the boy. He, like Powder, Claggor, and Mylo, had taken an even more serious interest in the mechanics of inventing and was content to ask Jayce a thousand questions if given the slightest provocation.

“Jayce.” His face lit up in the familiar look Jayce recognized from his own face when he was on the cusp of a breakthrough. “You finished with work for the day? I have some things to ask you about alternation frequencies.”

“And I’d love to answer,” Jayce said honestly as he clapped Ekko on the shoulder, “but I have to find the professor. He came by in a bit of a…rush this morning and I got caught up after he ran out of my place.” Ekko nodded and his expression took on an amusing mixture of concern and the kind of dreamy delight that only seemed to accompany his interactions with Powder. 

“Yeah, he came to find me this morning and was asking me all these strange things about anomalies and hexgates and firelights. I had no idea what he was going on about. It was like he was losing his mind.” He rubbed nervously at the base of his neck and Jayce squeezed his shoulder.

“I’ll talk to him. Did he…go back to the upper city?”

He dreaded the thought of going into Piltover and was awash with relief when Ekko shook his head. “Nah, he’s in the bar. Seemed like he needed a drink.” 

“And it seems like you need help. I’ll send Powder out to assist.” He laughed at the way Ekko’s sweet face began to glow the same color as newly-washed brick and tried to hold on to that feeling of good humor as he shouldered open the double doors of the bar.

Even on a weeknight, The Last Drop was full up with locals drawn to the inexpensive drinks and warm atmosphere that Vander had spent years cultivating. Just doing the occasional custom order for the bar or helping the kids calibrate their nascent creations had gotten Jayce more business and connections within the community than he ever would have achieved with a solo attempt. Even now there was a feeling of safety as he was surrounded by the vibrancy of the patrons, the music playing from the jukebox, Vander’s friendly face behind the bar, and Powder adding to the ambiance from where she was painting jaunty lines of neon violet to the eaves of the bar. 

He also spotted Heimerdinger despondently tucked into the furthest corner of the main floor, the little yordle staring into the contents of his glass as if it would give him the answers he needed. Jayce sighed.

“Hey Powder!” He called out and Powder looked over her shoulder, brightening as she saw who called out. Jayce thumbed towards the door, “Little Man has a new shipment in. He wants you to rummage through it with him.” She looked even more delighted then, her salute leaving spots of paint in her hair as she leapt from her perch and sprinted towards the door.

The day Ekko realized that Powder adored him as much as he loved her, their family’s lives would all become markedly easier. 

Jayce got himself a cold bottle of beer before moving back to his original target. “Professor.” Heimerdinger didn’t even look up as Jayce invited himself to sit in the chair opposite. “I heard you were able to speak with Ekko.”

“Jayce…” Heimerdinger sounded unmoored as he dragged his gloved paw down his face. “You must have heard then that…he has no memory of the phenomena that I previously discussed with you. I fear…I am alone in this delusion then and…I have no idea on how to proceed. I have taken over this body and am trapped in this future with no conceivable method to return. And with the situation so dire in the sanctuary—”

Jayce listened, understanding almost nothing but he could empathize at the feeling of being lost in a familiar place. It was exactly how he’d felt upon leaving Stillwater and finding the changes of Piltover and Zaun. “Professor, I don’t know if you recall what you said to me when I came back to the city but whatever may have happened, there’s nothing more to do than to persevere and progress. A fresh start, not a loss.” 

“I simply…don’t know what to do.”

Heimerdinger’s passiveness thanks to the longevity of his kind was one of his blind spots, in Jayce’s opinion. Perhaps Jayce was still a little too fiery but…he thought of all the people he’d come to know in Zaun and it gave him the push he needed. 

“With all due respect, professor, you’re still the head of the council. Your power exceeds anyone else’s in Piltover and you have the opportunity to enact the kind of change we’ve always dreamt of.” He thought of some of his clients, his neighbors , lining up in hopes of vending permits for the border bridges, of the kids showing off their little inventions to him in a pale imitation of a competition they still were unable to apply for. He thought of lovely Viktor cobbling together his own filtration system, talking sadly of an academy he was barred from even dreaming of . Indignation rose in Jayce’s breast, “Abolish the permits for the bridge and open talks for trade between Piltover and Zaun—you know Silco and Sevika will treat with you fairly,” even if Piltover’s council didn’t deserve it , “incentivize trained engineers to help with the infrastructure. Gods know I can’t do it all on my own. Open up the schools to the kids from Zaun. You know they’re intelligent, professor, and they just need the resources to shine. Zaun’s spread so thin trying to catch up and none of us want them to topple under their own weight. You can give them a fighting chance…even if you don’t remember who you were before today.”

Heimerdinger’s blue eyes were enormous before he visibly relaxed. He looked more like the Heimerdinger Jayce knew from before this bout of amnesia. “Goodness. After so long…I’d forgotten how driven you are, my boy. And about the undercity no less. Though I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised. He was always your driving force…and your biggest weakness.”

Jayce had no earthly clue what Heimerdinger was talking about aside from his allegiance to Zaun. “Zaun has been so good to me, even though I don’t deserve it.” He touched the spot of fabric just above his tattoo. “Give them a chance.”

Heimerdinger sighed. “I appreciate your candor, Jayce. If…I am indeed trapped here indefinitely, I must make the best of it. I feel your advice is sound.” 

Jayce inclined the neck of his beer bottle towards his little mentor and raised his eyebrows. “I’ll be here if you need more.” Another crisis avoided, Jayce could now let his concern melt away and let his mind return to excitement for the following morning. Heimerdinger’s glass touched the bottle and Jayce became enchanted with the deep goldenrod color of his drink.

Like Viktor’s eyes.

Jayce rarely did things by halves when he was well and truly interested in something. For him it felt like a rush of flame that threatened to consume him to the bones, the desire rising so fast in his throat and his mind that he had to use his hands to create something lest it fill him to bursting. Like static in his brain, he had to write everything down before his initial thought was replaced with another. Sometimes it felt as though the only way to temper the obsession was if he was to devour the subject in question.

Poor Viktor had been alarmed at Jayce’s arrival first thing the following morning. However, the alternative had been Jayce coming up with maddened theories past midnight, hypothesizing how he could comprehend the man down to the marrow of his bones in the span of a single day. He couldn’t yet draw Viktor from memory and all of his notes were questions; the only solution was to be in the man’s presence.

That second day, Jayce toured with him around the fissure. He was happy to watch Viktor’s lovely profile as he explained the various plants that grew there and some of the small mechanical adjustments he’d made to the neighborhood. Jayce only interrupted once as he noted Viktor’s distinct irritation on talking about the undercity elevators.

“You reworked the mechanisms didn’t you?” Jayce said with complete confidence and then laughed as Viktor startled, his eyes going wide at being caught. “I noticed how this station had a smoother stop than most.” He could imagine Viktor cursing softly under his breath as he replaced ancient screws and oiled the gears. “I did the same for the station closest to my place. Easier on my leg.”

“Yes.” Viktor’s mouth quirked up in a soft smile. “Yes that’s…exactly it.”

Viktor’s smile made Jayce want to crumble to pieces. 

He was so elated that it didn’t seem presumptuous of him to come back again the next day. To invite himself to walk with Viktor after he finished up a job in the White Maw Fissure and saw the man planting seeds and taking samples. If his local bookseller suspected anything when he asked for specially ordered books on botany—a subject he’d had no interest in before—she made no comment though some of his other clients did bring up the ‘bloomer’ with increased frequency. And, selfishly, Jayce began to block off one day a week for the foreseeable future so that there was no rush when he made the familiar route down to the Nautilus Fissure.

It was addictive.

“You’re giving these to me?” Viktor had asked on accepting the books. 

Books were still a luxury in these parts of Zaun but Jayce had already taken his own notes, from cover to cover, on all of them. The price had been well worth the delighted look on Viktor’s face as he cradled the stack close to his chest. Jayce made a mental note to ask his mother to purchase the most updated research on the subject from the more well-equipped stores in Piltover.

“You’ll make the best use of them out of anyone I know.” Jayce said with a careless shrug. It was all for show; he cared very deeply and he wanted to meet Viktor on equal footing regarding the subject. “Let me know what you think of them.”

He felt he’d built a close enough rapport to broach the subject with Viktor as he accompanied the man down through one of the old mining caverns. ‘Why plants, Viktor?”

Jayce had watched him carefully, hovered with his pulse skipping beats as he shadowed Viktor, and found that aside from giving advice to children as he fixed the mechanics of their toys or doing small favors for the locals, he very rarely put his knowledge of engineering to use outside of his home. Surely an inventor of his caliber would have some part of his mind that would gnaw at him to be unleashed. Jayce felt a brief twist of bitterness over the idea that Piltover might have been responsible for crushing his drive.

“Why indeed,” Viktor murmured as he plucked the native mushrooms growing from the walls. “The practical answer is that Zaun will need to be able to grow food eventually so that we’re not so reliant on imported vegetation. The idealistic answer is that I liked the image of a peaceful community filled with friendly people and healthy plants. I suppose…I’ve always admired their hardiness, to grow with so little sunlight. To still be beautiful in soil and water filled with poison.”

A sweet and simple dream, Jayce was utterly charmed. “Ah…like you,” he murmured the compliment, just soft enough that Viktor wasn’t able to catch it. 

“What?” 

“You seem well on your way to making it a reality.” Jayce let his hand hover just above the small of Viktor’s back—a spot he often saw Viktor rub with his own hand. “You’ll have to give me some of your seedlings when you have a few to spare. I can plant them en route to my clients.”

Addicted and enchanted, Jayce wanted to help Viktor, wanted to talk to him for hours, ached to give him things. He yearned to actually reach out and touch the man but…he had to take his time in Zaun. Even though it seemed like abject hell when Viktor looked up at him, clearly moved by the offer.

“I’m surprised you asked permission.” Viktor half-covered his mouth with one hand as he laughed. “I thought you’d start sneaking bulbs into your pockets.”

Feeling bold, Jayce reached out to wipe a bit of mud off of Viktor’s cheek. His skin was warm, smooth. “You really think I’m such an untrustworthy bastard? It’s because I’m a stuck-up Piltie, isn’t it?” He tried to keep his tone light, but nothing devastated him more than the idea of Viktor finding him to be as imperious and careless as some of his former peers. 

“Absolutely not,” Viktor scoffed before softening. “You’re…exuberant. If anything.”

“It’s charming, no?” His mood changed immediately to joy that was almost painful.

“It’s…disarming. But I don’t dislike it.”

It was close enough to a compliment to keep Jayce on a high for days. 

With a smile on his face and pockets full of seeds and plant bulbs, Jayce noticed the pain in his leg didn’t bother him as much as he traipsed around Zaun to meet with clients. Vander remarked on it as Jayce sat by the bar, giving Mylo and Claggor pointers as they were trying to create a vacuum-sealed canister that could be used to keep food fresh as they wandered through the city.

“You’re chipper,” Vander raised his eyebrows as he surveyed their work. “Things going well with the bloomer?”

“That obvious?” Jayce knew his eyes would be shining like a madman’s and Vander laughed.

“Fairly. I know the look of a man who can’t sleep for it and it’ll only get worse if you keep going. This’ll help.” He slid a warm tisane cut with liquor to Jayce. “You’ll need rest or the locals will never let you hear the end of it.”

Jayce wished it was as simple as not being able to sleep for his excitement. He was able to fall to sleep but…the images conjured by his sleeping mind didn’t allow him to rest for long.

Far from the erotic things everyone in Zaun likely suspected, his dreams were strange and colorful, full of eyes that stared into him expectantly, always with the undercurrent of honey that seemed to sear and burn. Viktor was there . Looking up at him from under his eyelashes. And Jayce woke up to a feeling of being parched—too tight and too dry in his own skin. 

Even though morning was still a few hours yet, Jayce knew he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep with the buzzing feeling just under his fingertips. 

There was nothing to do for it but to get the energy out.

Jayce strapped himself into the reinforced brace he’d made specifically for metal working and made his way to the border so that he could hail a pedicab to New Piltover. Aside from visits to his mother, Heimerdinger, and Caitlyn, the only reason Jayce regularly went into the city was to go to his family’s small forge. His mother, bless her, kept it open for him no matter the hour, and he fell into a sort of fugue state. Smithing was the most intuitive of his skills and he could let his mind wander as he liked while his body worked on muscle memory.

He’d promised Viktor better quality parts for his brace and a month seemed to be a proper amount of time to give him a second gift.

Viktor’s brace was just like his and Jayce had memorized the length and circumference of Viktor’s legs simply based on how he’d imagined they’d fit in his hands.

It had to be strong and elegant, nothing harsh or industrial would suit. He crafted the metal support first so that it was cool by the time the other pieces were taking time to rest. Then Jayce could take up the stencil and fine-pointed file…scarcely blinking as he etched the delicate lines.

Exhaustion was an afterthought. He wanted to see Viktor’s face, his hooded eyes light up when he saw what Jayce had made for him. One of his holdout traits from his life when he was a pretentious student surrounded by wealthier friends: he wanted to give the people he liked fine things. 

Viktor liked flowers. He liked an even mix of silvery and golden metals on his hardware. There were delicate, pretty things that he’d collected around his greenhouse . Jayce had noticed all of them and catalogued the information carefully.

If Viktor was shocked to see Jayce on his doorstep only a half an hour after sunrise, he hid it very well. His eyes—those eyes that haunted Jayce in and out of sleep—flicked to the hollows under Jayce’s and he made a delightful expression somewhere between a pout and a frown. “You didn’t sleep?”

“How could I?” Jayce deftly slipped past him and set his pack down by the fountain. “Might as well make my dreams a reality. And I made two promises that I don’t intend to break.”

“A little early for riddles, no?”

Viktor shuffled past him, beyond trying to fight whatever madness had gripped Jayce, and reached for the kettle on his hot plate. Jayce noticed everything . Viktor’s hair curled up in wild angles at the back, his bedding was freshly rumpled, and he was wearing a white shirt, three sizes too large, that hung to the tops of his knees. Jayce hoped he was sleep-warm, hoped that some heat would linger as he gave Viktor his gift.

“I would think you’d like them. Since everyone in Zaun finds you deeply mysterious.”

“The biggest mystery is how you manage to have so much energy on so little sleep.” Viktor joked softly as he turned on the heat. “Go on then. Don’t keep me in suspense.”

Jayce brought out his creations, laying them carefully on the lip of the fountain, as Viktor busied himself with making a hot drink. “I swore to everyone in Zaun that I would live.” For Vi, for Violet’s memory . “I won’t live with regrets so I do things as the mood strikes me, even if I lose a little sleep. Even if it vexes you.” Live. Live, you bastard . “And I promised you new parts.”

“Ah,” it was an inhale of soft shock and Jayce grinned as he surveyed the new metal bits he’d made for Viktor’s brace.

It wasn’t enough to have the quality materials bespoke with his expert skill. He wanted to do even more. 

His art skill was enough that it hadn’t been too difficult to etch designs of flowers and vines into the metal with a diamond-tipped nib before filling the tiny hollows with molten brass. He’d even upgraded the bolt coverings with new T-shaped markers filled with the same material. Now any reflection of the light would glint gold along the curves of the petals, the angles of the topside markers; it was as fine as any piece of expensive metalwork that could be purchased in Piltover.

It looked so natural paired with Viktor’s equally elegant fingers as he stroked the mirrored surface of the pieces. He may as well have run his hands up Jayce’s spine. Jayce’s heart twisted as he saw Viktor’s expression.

His face was torn between adoration and anguish, so shocking when he normally maintained a serene facade. “You’re always…surprising me.” When was the last time someone had given him a gift like this? Did no one ever think to make his brace lovely when he used it daily? 

“You like it?” Jayce asked. 

If it brought Viktor to tears, Jayce would have no choice—no alternative but to leap up and hold him. But the emotion passed and Viktor’s face lapsed back to a calm smile. “Yes, your skill with metalworking is…peerless. I suppose you’ll not rest unless I let you make the adjustments yourself?”

“It’s as if you’ve known me all my life.” Jayce beamed up at him. “And so thoughtful for you to give me a gift as well.”

Viktor laughed in disbelief but Jayce considered the materials and effort of the brace parts a paltry offering in comparison to being allowed to touch Viktor’s bare skin. To put his signature next to those pretty legs. He was so tender, reverent as he replaced the old bits with his and made the necessary adjustments. 

One of these days he’d get a better look at the parts around Viktor’s waist and shoulder and he’d have those upgraded as well. He’d already estimated the circumference with his hands, dreamt of the warmth on Viktor’s skin. The brass reflected the same golden-brown tones as Viktor’s eyes and Jayce felt as though he was swelling with pleasure.

“I can’t say if it’s alarming or impressive that your measurements are so exact.” Viktor remarked as he turned his leg to survey his new hardware.

I like studying you . Jayce wondered if Viktor would blush if he said such a thing. “Don’t hold back; praise me more.” There was no mistaking the brief flash of fondness in Viktor’s smile and it was all he needed. Whether it be by Zaunite or Piltovan means, he was going to court the man with everything in his arsenal. “If you’re not careful, I’m going to get my mark on everything you own.”

Viktor raised his eyebrow, unimpressed. “Egotistical. If you’re not careful, I’ll lock you out of my house.”

It was meant as a threat, but Jayce knew himself. His fantasies and heated dreams would feature those golden eyes, glimmering with challenge, as Jayce memorized the length of Viktor’s legs, encircled that slim waist with his hands, marked every pale, sweet inch of Viktor’s skin. Well worth the loss of sleep.

As a lingering side effect from Stillwater, the sound of a crowd of any sort had Jayce’s heart beating from his chest as if it was ready to fight to the death. Startled from his sleep, it took him a moment to remember where he was and another five minutes to settle his heart rate back to normal. “The fuck’s going on, Vi?”

Turning to the window, Jayce saw the source of the commotion were many of his clients: the vendors who set up shop on the bridge when they could get the permits were laughing as they wheeled their carts to the border. Never had he seen so many be able to get the permits at once. Jayce was in such a rush to understand what was happening that he abandoned his brace entirely—even though it would hurt him later—and went out bare chested and barefoot, leaning on to his kitchen broom handle for support.

“Mylo!” Jayce saw the boy sprinting past, eyes alight, and called out before he disappeared into the throng. “What’s going on? Is everything alright?”

Mylo’s dark eyes were sparkling as he found Jayce in the crowd. “Jayce! Jayce, it’s…it’s amazing! ” He was breathless as he tried to get his thoughts out. “A decree was passed last night! It was announced this morning: we don’t need permits for the bridges or the Piltover banks anymore! It’s—it’s—”

“Open trade.” Jayce grinned. Heimerdinger had taken his suggestion to heart. Uncaring of his appearance and his pronounced limp, he joined in with the crowd on the short walk to the border bridge. His elation was complete when he saw that Mylo hadn’t been lying. 

The permissal bureau set up on Zaun’s side of the river was empty, a notice tacked to the window, and Jayce’s neighbors poured, unfettered, onto the bridge in celebration. Familiar carts set up shop and there was even help from some Piltover locals as they laughed and tried to find a way for all the stalls to fit. Heimerdinger was at the center of it all, a tuft of white cotton amidst the sea of humanity.

“Professor!”

“Jayce, my boy!” He brightened on seeing Jayce before puffing up in alarm on seeing the state of him. “Goodness! Should I run up to fetch your—?”

“Never mind all that!” Jayce grinned. “You did this?”

“Yes. Your words truly struck home for me. I realized that I could do something worthwhile with the power I have. Zaunite businesses are welcome to vend as they please and I’m working on your suggestion for the schools.”

Jayce felt as though he was glowing like a star. “The other councilors went along with it?”

“Oh nevermind them! What’s the point of being head of the council and dean of the university if I don’t get to throw my weight around a little.” His eyes were sparkling at his own gall. “You ought to get dressed; you’re about to be very popular.”

As if by providence, Jayce heard Claggor and Ekko calling out to him from halfway down the bridge. “Jayce! You have your tools with you? We need help with a sparking mechanism down here!” They seemed to be vibrating in time with his heartbeat and Jayce felt his hands tingling in preparation to work. 

“I’ll get them now! Wait for me!” Heimerdinger was grinning under his mustache as he waved Jayce off. Jayce took off in the closest thing to a sprint he could manage, the pain in his leg dulling to the barest twinge in the face of so much adrenaline. 

There was a painting of Vi on the side of one of the carts he passed and Jayce felt as though he could fly. It’s changing, Vi. Real change. If he could, he would have taken her place in a heartbeat so that she could taste this newfound freedom but…there was no going back. He wouldn’t take a single moment for granted. I’ll make it everything you could have dreamed of.

Jayce felt brimful with life as he strapped himself into his brace, gathered his tools, and ran back into the city.

The work was never-ending and Jayce would have been content to work on custom orders for the rest of the night if a group of vendors hadn’t banded together and kindly ordered him to take a break. Scarcely sunset and he was at once pulsing with energy and pleasantly exhausted from all the work he’d put in on the bridge as he gave in and trudged back into town. He knew the Last Drop would be packed by nightfall so he went to purchase a drink and food while there was still space left to sit. Vander was already prepping for the rush, his eyes alight as Jayce hobbled in.

“Is it still a madhouse?” 

“Yes.” Jayce put money on the bar and downed the cold drink Vander gave him without pause for breath. “I think most of them will be there until the morning. I have so many work orders I’ll be busy until the end of the month, at least.”

“The little professor went and did it.” Vander laughed as if he too couldn’t believe it. “Grayson dropped by earlier and let me know there’s also been an abolishment of the bans for renting storefronts in the city. Zaunites can set up shop wherever we please, given we have the money for it. Things are…progressing. Little by little.” He beamed and Jayce rubbed his thumb on the fabric above his tattoo. Live . “I imagine we’ll have to hunt down the kids, come morning.”

Jayce felt a rush of fondness on remembering how the local kids took turns hopping over the golden line that had once demarcated the border of Piltover and Zaun. Powder had stood with one foot on either side before seizing Ekko by the hand and pulling him toward the Piltover banks.

“I’ll need another drink first. And I have to go to the fissures after.” He didn’t know if word had gotten around yet, but he wanted to be the first to tell Viktor if not. He wanted to show the man all that they had managed to do in the span of a single morning: a bustling market set up with the two cities merging in the center, people crossing the border lines fearlessly, shopkeeps stringing up fairy lights so that they could stay open past nightfall. Viktor’s angular face would look so good under the warm lights…

“Your bloomer wasn’t there?” Vander raised his eyebrows as passed Jayce another drink along with his food. Jayce grinned into the glass; his bloomer… 

“I’m working on it…”

He’d been seeing the man regularly for almost five months now, and though it was a short acquaintance by Piltover standards, Jayce was impatient, infatuated, and operating on broken sleep. It was a recipe for gentle insanity, a state of mind that he wasn’t even bothering to try and fight.

“I’d offer you more if I could. But he’s always kept to himself, even when he was younger. Family’s long gone and you seem to be the first one who’s managed to get close.” In spite of his lack of knowledge, Vander’s assurances were doing wonders for Jayce’s possessive streak. “I can empathize; the boys in Zaun…don’t always make it easy.”

Luckily I’m stubborn as hell . 

Conversation cut short by the appearance of one of Ekko’s friends and her bandmates, begging to play outside the bar since the mood outside was so celebratory and they could not find a spot to play; apparently the space from the riverbank down the main street had been filled up with an impromptu night market. Doubtless people would remain out until morning.

Jayce watched, feeling every inch the outsider, as people began to gather in the Last Drop. Despite Heimerdinger’s hand in things, Jayce was under no misconceptions: this was Zaun’s victory. And he was not a Zaunite.

It had been some time since he’d felt like a mere passenger, an outsider looking in as life happened around him. His leg twinged as the kids came back; Powder rushed past to Silco’s office, ready to drag her father out by any means necessary, while her brothers tried to monopolize Vander’s attention, in spite of the half dozen people clustered around trying to order drinks. Ekko with his scarf missing and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Benzo, Silco’s right hand Sevika, some of the barons, the Vastayans who ran the neighborhood watch, all faces he recognized— from the lowest night of his life —coming to drink to the men who’d started the revolution that had brought them to this moment.

It wasn’t for him. He patted his leg and left payment on the table, leaving it open for someone who needed it. Someone who deserved it .

Jayce slipped out unnoticed into a central square that was equally chaotic.

It was a vortex of color and sound and familiar faces but Jayce felt oddly detached from it all. It was as if he’d been thrust into another life entirely and he wondered…if this was one of his dreams. If he even existed at all.

He had to go to the fissure. Viktor .

“I thought,” Jayce turned and he felt as though he could breathe again, “you’d go down. I spared you the trouble.”

Viktor was perched just outside the bar with his good knee pressed against his chest. Perhaps it was Jayce’s wishful thinking, but he noticed little details—a small cog wrapped around his arm with crimson thread, a leather bracelet at his wrist, a small teardrop of blue glass hanging from one of the straps on his waist—and wondered if he’d added these little details in celebration. People stared as if they couldn’t believe their mysterious bloomer was lounging topside to enjoy the festivities.

“ Viktor .”

“You look…lost.” Viktor got to his feet, his brow furrowing slightly. “Is everything alright? Am I interrupting?”

Jayce breathed a laugh. Interrupting a brief lapse of existential discord? “No…no. I was just thinking of how I had to find you. Viktor, I’m so glad you’re here.” He felt grounded again. If Viktor could perceive him…if he’d come up to see Jayce of his own accord, then nothing else mattered.

Viktor looked like he did not believe Jayce’s excuses for a moment but he let his mouth curve up softly. “I’m from the undercity. I don’t want to miss a night that will make history.”

“And you want company? I’d hate to ruin your mysterious, lonely reputation.”

“I doubt I could stop you.”

“One of these days I’ll get you to admit it.” Jayce teased Viktor gently before falling in step beside him. 

“I fear our real struggle is going to keep people from putting us to work again. You’ve still got oil on your face.” 

It was a fairly prophetic guess as they slowly picked their way towards the border. Food stalls and drink carts were working in earnest now that it was evening, perfuming the air with roasted spices and grilled meat that drew in locals and crowds who’d come over from Piltover to celebrate. Jayce and Viktor’s matching limps could not be mistaken and neither of them could escape before people were calling out for favors and appointment slots. Mostly the requests were for Jayce. As always, everyone—even children and the older members of the community— seemed to regard Viktor with equal parts deference and disbelief.

“Did you put a spell on these people?” Jayce asked. “Or are they as transfixed as I am by your face?”

“I notice you have no issues opening your mouth to vex me.” 

“Blame my terrible Piltovan manners.” Jayce joked. “And the mildly obsessive nature of an inventor.”

“ Mildly ?” Viktor raised his eyebrows before sighing. “I suppose you’ll pry it out of someone eventually: aside from the small technological upgrades, I used to experiment with the plants to make medicine as well. Imported medication was always expensive in Zaun so…it gave me a reputation.”

Viktor had to be barely into his thirties; so young and yet… “You’re even more brilliant than I first suspected, aren’t you?” Jayce watched as Viktor’s ears turned pink at the lobes. “I assume you tested these concoctions on yourself first?” Viktor’s face gave it all away and Jayce laughed. Viktor was a complete and utter madman, trying dangerous medical mixtures he’d cooked up in his home laboratory; Jayce knew the reasonable response should be horror but he couldn’t judge when he’d likely do the same thing, safety be damned. “It’s troublesome how charming you are. Are you hungry?”

Viktor’s frame was painfully slight and Jayce felt a possessive feeling of joy as he bought his partner food with the money he’d earned that morning. And the vendors were in rare form. He bought skewers of char-grilled meat and vegetables, small cups of chopped fruit, buns roasted in brick kilns, and Zaunite honey candy stamped to look like coins for good fortune—anything that Viktor’s eyes seemed to stutter over, Jayce purchased, provided that the owner didn’t offer it to Viktor for free.

By now the streets were truly packed as word had spread and people from Piltover were drawn in by the musicians playing in earnest. Jayce could tell them apart by the quality of their clothes but soon…there might not be as stark a difference. “Stay close,” Jayce hovered close, using his height and broad shoulders to carve through the crowds so that no one would jostle Viktor. “If you need to, you can hold onto me.”

Viktor’s mouth took on a distinctly wicked quality. “As always, you have no subtlety.” Jayce shrugged in response, trying to hide that he was holding himself taut in case Viktor changed his mind.

At their leisurely pace, it was long past nightfall by the time they reached the border bridge closest to Jayce’s apartment and people had begun to shoot fireworks out over the canal.

“It’s been so long since I’ve come here.” Viktor admitted. Jayce caught him biting his bottom lip and pausing in apparent nerves before he took the first step onto the bridge. 

“Too many memories?” Jayce guessed, pleased when Viktor nodded. “I understand.”

Viktor’s steps were silent on the smooth stone though Jayce could detect a slight trembling in his bad leg. He frowned. They had been walking for more than an hour but he’d been too focused on Viktor’s presence to notice the signals of pain in his own leg. So rarely did Jayce call attention to his own disability but he’d make an exception, asking for some local youths to clear a spot so that he and Viktor could sit next to the enormous stone railings.

He couldn’t help but glance down to the dark strip of water below. Lit up on both sides by the warm gold and gleaming neon of the parallel cities, the fireworks also added an alluring sparkle to the surface.

Such a long drop. And swept out to sea after…

The insidious thoughts were interrupted as Viktor spoke. “It feels…like a dream. Like I’ll wake up and everything will be gone.” The fireworks reflected in his eyes, shades of red, green, and violet swirling amidst the yellow until they were some color beyond description. “Now I wonder if…if I had abandoned my selfish pursuits and my ego, I could have brought this kind of change sooner. I could have,” he cupped his hands in his lap, “helped so many people. But instead, I didn’t learn and I isolated myself.”

“It’s safer…sometimes.” Jayce agreed though his stomach twisted bitterly over Viktor’s views of his own accomplishments. “I wanted to change the world once and in my pursuit…all I did was cause hurt.” A harbinger of death . “I lost everything but a sense of perspective. It’s not so grand as my teenage dreams but there’s beauty and honor in the small details, as well—fixing that stall’s boilerplate, giving the kids a push in the right direction, planting flowers.” Even in the dark, he saw the golden filigree in Viktor’s leg brace and it made him smile. “It helps when I feel lost.”

“You still feel lost?” Gods, he was so sweet. Jayce wondered how Viktor could think he was selfish, an egoist when he looked so concerned. It gave him so much hope. “Even now?”

Jayce stood, trying to think of a way to explain. When his mind was fraught like this, words came slowly and even his mother had struggled to fully understand the hell he had to think through.

The gold line cutting the bridge in half was not far and Jayce was reminded of Powder standing with each foot over the border. Far from the joy in her expression, his feeling was…more isolating. “From one loner to another…it’s moments like these that I feel the loneliest.” He admitted it quietly. There had always been a struggle in his mind: stress when he could not get his ideas out fast enough, crushing hopelessness when he failed, fewer and further between were the days when he had no will to push on.

He startled at the brush of cool fingers on his knuckles and he glanced over to see that Viktor had joined him. There was no judgement as he inclined his head in silent reassurance.

“I don’t feel at home in Piltover anymore.” He had felt like a stranger, a pariah in the familiar streets after the accident. “And I’m not from Zaun either. They’ve accepted me here but…I’ll never truly know what it’s like to be Zaunite.” He shifted his feet so he was standing directly on the border line. “Two worlds and I don’t seem to fit in either one.”

Thank the gods Viktor didn’t keep him in suspense; he might have felt ashamed otherwise.

He got as close to Jayce as physically possible without actually touching him and lined his feet up next to Jayce’s. “You’re not alone in feeling like an outsider.” He looked over at the Piltover skyline, giving Jayce a good look at his striking profile. “More often than not, I also feel there doesn’t seem to be a place in this world where I truly belong.”

You belong right here. Next to me, where it feels…natural . 

The words simply weren’t enough to convey how he felt. Feeling bold, Jayce gently hooked his pinky finger through Viktor’s, giving him every opportunity to pull his hand away if he found Jayce’s touch unwelcome. Jayce wanted to melt into the stone of the bridge, he felt as though he would breathe steam as Viktor’s finger curled against his, locking his grasp in place. Jayce luxuriated in the feeling before turning his hand so that Viktor’s fingers slotted into the space between his, as perfected a fit as if they were gears hand-notched to fit each other.

Not alone . When Jayce squeezed his hand, Viktor squeezed back.

Chapter Text

In spite of their latest coup, not everything was perfect in Zaun. A few years of progress did not immediately cancel out decades of deep-rooted oppression. In spite of all the work Silco put in, there were still pockets of the nation that stubbornly refused change. Most of the worst of Zaun’s black markets, pleasure houses, and crime lords had carved out the most undesirable parts of the city-state and dug in for a long fight.

Jayce had been able to avoid most violent altercations simply due to his frame but any local thugs who saw his brace and thought he’d be an easy mark had learned the hard way. Jayce had been formally trained in combat during his schooling in Piltover, the skills honed by further lessons from the Kirammans, and then fully put to the test during his time in prison. He could not be known as a defenseless Piltie in such a bloodthirsty place and had been advised early on to beat his opponents so savagely that word would spread, a tactic he’d continued to use during his first few months of working in Zaun.

Even in the few lawless pockets of the city that remained, the general consensus was to leave Jayce Talis alone unless someone desperately wanted an entire set of broken ribs. Luckily for most visitors and locals who didn’t know how to fight, there was no trouble unless they went looking for it.

Jayce had never expected Viktor to be the type to go looking for trouble but…part of Viktor’s charm was that he was always surprising Jayce.

Claggor had finally finished the prototype sketches of his canister and Jayce dropped by after work to help him with the sealing mechanism. He was bone tired but…it was difficult for him to forsake a brilliant mind in need. Heimerdinger’s habits brushing off on him yet again. 

“—I would have liked to store oxygen in it but the issue is that the resource is finite.” Claggor had been too nervous to work on the delicate mechanical innards he’d created, so he was holding it steady and watching Jayce make the corrections. 

“You might look into a filtration system. A way to convert the exhaled gas back to breathable oxygen.” Jayce thought aloud, ignoring the beads of sweat that traced the planes of his face. 

“I’ve never made one before. I’ll have to research it.” One of the things Jayce admired about the boy was that he was never demoralized by setbacks. It was just an opportunity to get better at his craft. “I would imagine Piltover has better resources for it.” As a non-citizen, he still did not have access to the libraries in Piltover and money was not so plentiful that he could afford the specific books and the parts for future prototypes.

“Don’t worry about the research materials. I’ll find a way to get you some.” He promised as the tiniest of the hose nozzles slotted into place. “You can be rougher with some of the bolts in this but for the tubing it’s probably better to just take off the outer shell.” Claggor nodded as he took the advice to heart. “And you might talk to Vikt—the bloomer. I’ve gotten a good look at his filtration systems for the water in his house and he—”

“Is that what you’re calling it now?” Claggor was better at teasing Jayce than Powder because he could keep a completely straight face. But Jayce could still clock his juvenile humor. “Getting a good look at his filtration systems?”

“On the gods, I’ll unhook your tube work.” Jayce threatened him and Claggor broke into a grin. 

His situation was dire indeed if these teenagers had caught on to how much he liked Viktor. 

They’d be disappointed to find that most of his fantasies regarding their mentor were centered around stroking his hand up Viktor’s nape while Viktor reviewed blueprints of his latest pet project or have Viktor trace his elegant, clever hands over the length of Jayce’s jawline. Getting to take a good look at Viktor’s back brace under the heavy fabric of his clothes had been a favorite ever since he’d met the man, as well as Viktor showing him the contents of his notebooks, something Jayce imagined as full of inventions that he could help bring to fruition. Hell, even Viktor just saying his name would have Jayce come undone. 

All this time and Viktor had never once breached the intimate line of calling Jayce by his name. He’d come so close on occasion, leaving Jayce breathless, until he held himself back and bit his bottom lip, eyebrows furrowing; as if he was afraid to say it, as if he was unworthy to cross that line . 

It was the little mysteries to pursue that had Jayce yearning deep into the night. 

Claggor left him to his thoughts, running off in excitement to prepare for the next iteration of his invention, and Jayce took the free moment to sketch on a scrap of note paper the boy had left behind.

His hands moved of their own accord, sketching the outline of Viktor’s face from memory, adding the marks on his face even though it was an unnecessary detail for a technical drawing. It was necessary for him . A harmless innovation, Jayce thought of the metal breathing masks meant to siphon the Grey from the air and began to design his own more elegant prototype: tubes suctioned to the nostrils, the mouth fitted behind a thin mesh which could cleanse the impurities from the air. It was more expensive and more difficult to make but…he’d be able to see the entire face this way. He’d be able to kiss someone wearing this mask .

Caught up in the design elements, Jayce didn’t look up until he heard the shuffling half-step he and Viktor shared on the wooden stairs outside.

In a wonderful twist of fate, it was Viktor who stumbled in through the doors and Jayce was delighted for all of a few moments before he saw the obvious pain on the man’s expression. His limp was more pronounced than usual and, as he came closer, Jayce noted a lump dribbling blood on the top of his left cheek. “ Viktor! ”

Vander heard the consternation in Jayce’s tone and Jayce heard the sound of a shot glass clattering to the wood floors. It was only because of Jayce’s bad leg that Vander reached Viktor’s side at the same time Jayce did. The both of them reached out to steady him as they began to talk at the same time.

“Viktor! Are you alright?” “What happened?” “Should we call a doctor?”

Viktor’s slim hands were surprisingly steady from where they gripped Jayce’s arms and he shook his head. “I wasn’t…it was a lapse. Silco…Is he here?” 

Vander nodded. “I’ll go get him. Jayce, can you—?” 

Jayce had already lifted Viktor’s arm over his shoulder and felt a rise of bile in his chest as Viktor hissed through his teeth. He wondered if his leg would allow him to lift Viktor entirely off the ground but he didn’t want to take the unnecessary risk of losing his balance and further hurting him. Still, he took every precaution to be gentle as he guided Viktor to the closest booth. It was heart-stoppingly informal but he reached up and pressed his thumb gingerly around the wound on Viktor’s cheek to make sure the punch hadn’t fractured the bone.

He could recognize the remnants of a punch after his brief time in Stillwater and it was a struggle to keep his tone light in spite of the fury boiling in his throat, “You’ve been getting into street fights again?”

It had the intended effect and it startled a soft laugh out of Viktor. “You caught me. All the flowers are just for show and I fight people for a living.”

“Well, someone caught you on the cheek.” He was so pale, the bruise would be ugly and purple across his graceful face once the swelling went down. “Anywhere else they got you?” He’d catalogue each injury and take it personally. He took a clean edge of his sleeve and dabbed the blood away.

“I was kicked in the stomach as well.” Viktor admitted and his amber eyes flicked to the muscle that was clenching in Jayce’s jaw. “Luckily it doesn’t take much to incapacitate me so…they lost interest in the beating fairly quickly.”

“I’ll get ice.” Jayce said.

He rarely invited himself behind the bar, but he felt Vander would understand given the circumstances. The first shard of ice went in his mouth in a futile attempt to cool the heat of his impassioned rage but the rest went into two of the towels Vander kept neatly stacked nearby. He’d just pressed one of the cold towels against Viktor’s face when Silco strode up silently behind him.

“Viktor,” As always Jayce stiffened a little on hearing the silky, self-assured tone that always seemed to trigger his fight-or-flight. Silco had been the last to capitulate amongst his family and Jayce still felt as though Silco tolerated his presence, at best, “I hear there’s been trouble.” He clicked his tongue and slim fingers tilted Viktor’s head to and fro for inspection. “They stole from you, dear boy?”

“I miscalculated.” Viktor sighed as he settled the second ice pack against his stomach. “I had to go to the Seam for a rare part and I didn’t think—” Jayce blanked out for a moment; the Seam was one of those few truly dangerous places left in Zaun—the last bastion of cutthroats, pimps, and thieves—and his stomach twisted at the thought of someone so slender and gentle navigating those streets. “They took everything I was carrying but luckily it wasn’t much. My cane and the part are the only things that are…inconvenient.” 

“You walked all the way here without your cane?” Vander was appropriately horrified by the revelation and Jayce felt rage burning behind his eyes. He could not imagine the ache that Viktor would feel the following morning.

Jayce would have to go down to the fissures with ice and balms—or better yet if Viktor stayed up in the Lanes to recover. Jayce had bought a camp bed for himself; Viktor would be welcome to stay in his bed in the interim .

“You don’t need to worry about it.” Silco’s voice had taken on an imperious, businesslike quality that made Jayce’s hair stand on end. When he glanced back at Silco, the man was unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves. “You’re welcome to remain here as long as you need but I’ll have your things back to you by this evening. Vander, I’ll be back.”

“Don’t do anything rash,” Vander begged in vain as Silco sauntered towards the door.

“I would never.” Silco called back as he left and Vander sighed, clearly not believing his partner for a moment. In spite of his impeccable dress and calm demeanor, everyone close to Vander knew who truly ran things around the Drop.

Once he’d braced himself against the inevitable, Vander returned with an aid kit meant for the infrequent bar fight and stepped back to allow Jayce to play doctor. It was an exhilarating practice in physical touch that Jayce fell into with enthusiasm, pushing his rage aside to dwell on later.

There were twin scrapes on Viktor’s palms and knees which Jayce disinfected and bandaged before he pricked the facial injury, allowing the blood to trickle out so the swelling could go down. His fingers—normally so steady on the intricate inner workings of his inventions—trembled slightly as he pressed the bandage flush to Viktor’s cheek.

There was a quick flash of amber near his pinkie finger. “Are you even breathing?”

“I’m concentrating.” Jayce raised his eyebrows as he surveyed his work. 

“It’s a wonder you’re able to craft such delicate machinery with hands that shake.” Viktor was clearly teasing him in hopes of improving his mood and Jayce was all too happy to rise to the bait. 

“The things I make aren’t even half as nice to look at.” Jayce complimented him without shame. After visiting Viktor at least once a week for the last year, he knew Viktor wouldn’t react unless he said something truly unhinged. “The circumstances aren’t ideal but I can’t help but be happy to see you, Viktor.” It was hell to take his hands away from Viktor’s face but he managed it and he couldn’t help himself when he saw a reddish tint to Viktor’s cheeks. “Oh gods, you have a fever coming on; I’ll have Vander call the medic.”

“Gods, enough !” Viktor laughed and shook his head in disbelief. “You needle me to the point of insanity. But…in spite of everything I am…” he paused, deciding whether or not to continue, “ pleased to see you too.”

He may as well have reached into Jayce’s chest and squeezed his heart.

Most of his incandescent fury dimmed down to make room for his overwhelming adoration for Viktor. These instances, as brief as they were, when Viktor let down his walls and lightly flirted back were so precious to Jayce that he dreamt of them, playing out a thousand scenarios of what he could have done to extend the moment a little longer. The tantalizing idea that this man was his friend, his intellectual equal, and a lover on top of it all.  “Keep this up and you’ll never be rid of me.”

“I’m not going anywhere fast.” Viktor sighed and massaged the top of his thigh where it met his hip. It could stand for more warmth, a bit firmer pressure but Jayce wasn’t bold enough to make the offer in the bar. 

“Speaking of which, what were you making that needed you going down to the Seam for a part?” He tried to make his tone non-accusatory though…the only things worth buying in the Seam were illegal parts. Likely those crystallized bits of magic he’d purchased all those years ago had come from similar black markets . “If you need something specific, I can—”

Viktor gave him a long look. “These kinds of things can’t just be bought, even in the most well-equipped stores in Piltover. And I can’t…explain what I’m trying to make. Not even to you.”

Viktor was secretive and Jayce was under no false pretenses about that fact. Most of the time he found it alluring, but…this only gave way to concern. He frowned as he took Viktor’s hands in his and turned them so that his bandaged palms were facing up. “This kind of thing is dangerous, Viktor.” The wounds on his body were enough proof but Jayce couldn’t help the bitterness that crept in as he thought of his leg. Of Powder’s screams . “Hell, you’re from here; you know the risks but… please .” Jayce tilted his head down so his forehead was ever so slightly cupped by Viktor’s hands. It was a bold step forward and he was slightly relieved when Viktor didn’t pull away. “It’s not worth your life.”

Viktor sighed before tapping a light rhythm on Jayce’s forehead. “It’s not fair when you’re begging me in earnest like this…” 

“I’m not above using underhanded methods.” Jayce said as he nuzzled his head into Viktor’s touch. He thought about how nice it would feel to rest his head on Viktor’s slim lap and let the man run fingers through his hair. “I’d like to keep you in one piece.”

“I wasn’t in one piece to start with.”

Jayce adored him so he was quietly appalled at Viktor’s self-deprecation. Without looking up, he gently bumped his bad knee against Viktor’s. “We’re well matched in that regard…”

Viktor’s fingers rested on Jayce’s head but he didn’t remove them or move his leg away. “Perhaps it wasn’t worth it. All of this for…nothing.” He sounded…so terribly sad that Jayce broke first and looked up. He caught Viktor before he could school his expression and saw a glimpse of unmistakable devotion. Jayce could recognize it well enough after feeling something similar for months on end.

There was love there, warm as the honey color of his eyes, but something was keeping him from admitting it aloud. Jayce lamented the loss of it once Viktor recovered but…he was patient. And stubborn as hell. 

Holding Viktor’s hands against his cheeks for a moment, Jayce smiled. “Surely you’ve got other things you’re working on. Ideas in those notebooks you’re always scribbling in.” Viktor was notoriously protective of some of his notebooks and his mouth turned up at the corners at Jayce’s suggestion.

“You first. What were you drawing earlier?”

Jayce was only too happy to distract Viktor from his bout of melancholy with his impractical breathing apparatus. If Viktor noticed that the head layered underneath the mechanics had identical facial moles to his, then he made no comment. They were briefly joined by Ekko and Mylo who offered their own suggestions as Jayce and Viktor playfully volleyed plans for a complete overhaul of the Zaunite elevator systems. Jayce could spend all day, forgoing sleep, food, and hygiene, in favor of unsnarling all the ideas that had built up in his mind with people who were equally brilliant.

And Silco was as good as his word. 

He came back a few hours later with Viktor’s belongings in a knapsack over his shoulder and a distinct spring in his step. Jayce wasn’t entirely sure what magic he’d employed to find the materials and get them back but he showed no sign of strenuous activity and there were no bloodstains on his clothes. Terrifying .

“They won’t bother you again.” Silco promised as he deposited his cargo at Viktor’s feet. “Though I’m afraid that’s the only measure of good news I have. Your cane was broken beyond repair and there were no parts on any of them. I can only assume what they’ve stolen was dumped into the harbor once they noticed Sevika and I.”

Viktor didn't look upset at the loss, in spite of what it had cost him, physically. Instead there was a wry sort of resignation twisting at his mouth. "I see. It wasn't meant to be."

"Will it be too much for you to return to the fissure?" Silco smoothly accepted Viktor's cryptic response without question and moved on to the next matter of business. "If it exacerbates things, you should stay in the Lanes until we replace your cane. These kinds of injuries will build on themselves if you're not careful." His fingers rested next to the chemical burns surrounding his blind eye as if daring Viktor to protest that he didn't know what he was talking about.

"I bet Jayce has a spare." The three of them jolted in unison as Powder's slim arms wrapped around Silco's waist and her elfin face appeared over his shoulder. She was a little more subdued than normal but she did her best to give an approximation of her normally cheeky grin. Jayce hoped it wouldn't get any worse than this. The anniversary of the accident was close. “Or at least you have the parts to make one, yeah?”

“I do.” Jayce’s mouth was dry as he felt the weight of Powder’s suggestion.

Viktor in his apartment. Making a new cane while Viktor lounged at his kitchen table or, gods forbid, his bed . He wanted it so badly that his incisors ached.

“Powder, is there something the matter with our guest room?”

"No clean sheets." Powder murmured as she rubbed her cheek into the weave of Silco's shirt. Judging by Silco's expression, he didn't quite believe the excuse but he loved his daughter and was basically putty in her hands. "And...I don't...want someone around right now. No offense," she inclined her head in Viktor's direction.

"Not at all." Viktor noted the beginnings of distress in her and was sweet enough to agree. "If you don't mind—"

An absolutely unnecessary question. "Please. Come." Jayce tried and failed to keep his tone light. He needed Viktor to come to his apartment. "Stay as long as you need." 

Silco scrutinized Jayce carefully on hearing the abject desperation in his tone but his concern for Powder won out in the end. He turned so that Powder could slip into his arms. "Viktor, if you don't mind it then I'll leave you in his hands. I'll go see if we can use Ekko's board.” As he trailed off, Powder gave Jayce a half-hearted wink when her father wasn’t paying attention and Jayce vowed to move heaven and earth for her for the foreseeable future.

It was thanks to her, after all, that Jayce was able to help Viktor to a seat on Ekko’s enhanced hoverboard and began to guide it back down the streets towards his apartment. Only his excitement to bring Viktor to his apartment kept him from flushing in embarrassment as the locals outside laughed at the ridiculous picture they cut: Jayce leading the piece of machinery as if it was a living mount, Viktor sitting on it astride.

What a shame his leg was ruined. Otherwise he could have carried Viktor against his back, or in his arms.

Jayce’s heart was in his throat as he ushered Viktor into his apartment. Suddenly his mind was running so quickly that he felt as though he was going to overheat. His apartment immediately seemed to be an unbearable mess, with his projects scattered over every available flat surface and clean blankets piled on his bed from where he’d been too lazy that morning to properly make his bed. 

He broke into a full-out, burning blush as Viktor surveyed a glass jar of pickles Jayce had left out. “S-Sorry about the mess.”

“I can hardly judge. It’s kind of nostalgic…” He was smiling softly at some unspoken memory as he limped through Jayce’s apartment. Privately Jayce felt as though Viktor looked as though he’d always been a fixture in the apartment. He’d look so good sitting at the kitchen table in the morning, gazing out over the river. The apartment would benefit from fresh plants on the table and the neglected window sills. Jayce had already outfitted the rooms to accommodate his leg so it would be no issue at all for Viktor to feel comfortable.  

“The bathroom is in through there,” Jayce gestured, “And you’re welcome to anything in the kitchen.”

“Even these?” Viktor teased, hoisting up the pickle jar.

“Help yourself.” Jayce swiftly made the bed in the meantime and hobbled over to drag out the fold-out cot. He could have set it up in his small work room but…in his selfishness, he wanted to be as close to Viktor as he could without actually sharing a bed. Even if his lips would likely taste of pickles. Charming . 

By the time the bed was made, Viktor had already made his way into Jayce’s work space and was surveying the sketches Jayce had made on an old chalkboard he’d salvaged and tacked to his wall.

He was smiling as he studied the little creations Jayce had come up with over the past few months, eyes stuttering over the half-erased remnants of the etched design on his brace. Somehow he seemed to sense Jayce's presence without even turning around. "You certainly hate being idle, don't you?"

"You sound like my mother," Jayce laughed. "But I like it. Somehow, working through the problems is calming. I could do it for hours on end; when I was still enrolled in university, I," there was the slightest twist of pain echoing from his heart down to his leg as he remembered what his ambition had destroyed, "thought that this kind of thing would be the ultimate dream: creating things in a lab of my own for as long as I wanted. Granted, my original plans needed patrons, investors, approval from the Piltover elite."

Viktor nodded as if he too had shared a similar dream. "Maybe in another life."

"Maybe. But I swore to live in this one." Jayce patted Viktor in the center of the back, imagining how it would feel to trace the length of his spine. "And I might not have met you otherwise." Viktor shot him a look, wordlessly chastising Jayce's lack of guile, but Jayce was beyond caring. "Any specifics you like in a cane? I have a spare but I can make adjustments while you're here."

Jayce wanted time to slow down but it was too exciting having Viktor in his home.

They designed the upgrades to the cane in tandem—Viktor sketching up an additional curve to the handle on top so that he could lean his full weight on it when he was weary and Jayce adding a bit of padding there to spare his skinny arms—until long past a reasonable time for dinner. Viktor had actually jumped and broken into peals of laughter as Jayce's growling stomach interrupted their conversation. Past midnight, Jayce made them both sandwiches and would have been content to continue their conversation deeper into the night but Viktor was nearly dead on his feet.

He thought he would melt into the wooden floorboards as Viktor easily donned one of his shirts to use as a pajama top and slid his pale body into Jayce’s bed. The not-insignificant part of Jayce that was still fiery and obsessive swelled in elation over getting to see Viktor in this state. He trusted Jayce enough to be in his home, in his bed ; normally clothed from his neck to his ankles, he had bared himself to scrutiny. His tattoos. Jayce could see the spindly length of them from the knuckle to where the ink circled his slim wrists like the lines connecting constellations. The moonlight coming in through the window seemed to catch on his bare skin and radiate silver within his elegant limbs . 

Jayce was entranced.

It had been so long since Jayce had had someone stay over in his home and he couldn’t help but lie facing Viktor so that they could continue their conversation in hushed tones. “I can pick up the parts in the morning so we can get working on the cane. I imagine with the both of us working, it should be done by early afternoon.” He was overjoyed at the prospect of working with Viktor but there was a bitter aftertaste, knowing that he’d want to leave once it was complete. “And then we can get you on the elevator home.”

His thoughts must have been palpable in the air. Viktor huffed a laugh. “Am I going to have to fight my way out with it once we’re done?”

“And risk Silco coming after me next? Absolutely not.” Jayce joked back. 

“You exaggerate.”

“He’s the most influential man in Zaun and he would absolutely ruin me if I went back on my word to keep you safe. Aside from you and Powder, Silco seems to have everyone in this town wrapped around his finger.” He felt his mouth quirk up on the side, “What’s your secret?”

It was amazing how Viktor’s eyes were as luminous as coins even in the dark. “I can’t…say everything but…it was my medicine that was used on his eye. I think otherwise it would have caused him pain for the rest of his life.”

“It was the flowers?” Jayce thought back on the catalogue of information he’d memorized about Zaunite plants for this exact moment. “The yellow fissure tears—or, no. The common bottle blossom is the one that people use for open wounds.”

“You always astound.” Viktor’s shoulders shook. “I had a feeling you’d read those books. You’re close, but for the severity of the injury I had to resort to using the shimmergills that grow in the caves near the mines.” Jayce thought back and remembered the bioluminescent mushroom caps that he’d seen etched in the books he’d given to Viktor months ago. “Given the proper extraction methods and other bonding agents, the chemicals in them are potent at alleviating pain, closing wounds, even giving a boost of mental and physical strength, depending on the dose.”

Jayce smiled. Although he’d never understood why Viktor had chosen to focus on botany while also having a genius touch at engineering, his passion for the subject was endearing. Jayce could listen to him for hours, even as his eyes were growing heavy. “What sort of bonding agents?”

Jayce curled up tight on the cot, completely content, as Viktor lulled him to sleep with talk of the amphibious creatures in the creeks of Zaun, the lichen and fungi, the roots and flowers that he mixed and turned into something else entirely. It was a type of magic, in a way.

His nightmares were terrible, even with Viktor so close. Perhaps it was because Viktor was close and he’d been attacked that afternoon, Jayce dreamt of Viktor bleeding from his nose and mouth, his face screwed up in pain, curled up on the floor with tracks of dried tears on his cheeks. When Jayce reached out to hold him, he was limp and lifeless, as if dead. Horror. He had to find help he had to—

“Are you alright?” The touch on his shoulder was solid and Viktor’s voice was wracked with concern. Somehow Jayce had gone from dreaming to wide awake without even realizing. Viktor had pressed both hands over Jayce’s thundering heart and Jayce could make out the panic in his expression even though it was still the middle of the night.

“It was a dream.” Jayce sighed in relief. “Viktor, you’re alright.”

“Aside from the ache in my leg. And my stomach. Ah, and my heart. You almost scared the life out of me with the noises you were making.” Frowning, Viktor swiped one of his thumbs under Jayce’s nose and came away dark. “Your nose is bleeding too. You’ve mentioned before that you have trouble sleeping. Does this happen every time?”

He’d always been a fitful sleeper: easy to wake, plagued with insomnia when he was in the throes of inventing. Moreover, his unconscious mind was just as fickle as Powder’s moods during certain times of the year and with the six year anniversary of Violet’s death upcoming, it was entirely likely that his nightmares were due to the anxious memories. He didn’t want to fully admit to the sins of his past when Viktor was wearing one of his old shirts, lying in his bed. The misery had to come in small doses.

“It’s been getting worse recently.” He admitted. 

“Was it about me? You called my name. You said…” It must have been too terrible to repeat and Viktor lost his nerve.

“Yeah. You were really hurt so I was trying to find help, I was…” Running . He hadn’t been able to run, to really sprint in years. Only in his dreams could he manage it.

Viktor, gentle as he was, was clearly bothered by it and leaned closer to dab the blood away with his shirt sleeve. “I can make something that will help to make things dreamless. I thought you looked weary…ever since—I’m so sorry.”

“I’m the one who woke you in the middle of the night and you’re apologizing to me ?” Jayce laughed. Viktor’s frown would deepen if he said it aloud, but Jayce liked the gentle touch, the way Viktor was worrying over him.

“I am sorry. If I hadn’t—” 

Jayce interrupted by cupping Viktor’s wrists, holding them in place on his face. The irony was not lost on him that he’d been in distress only moments before and was now happier than he’d been in weeks with Viktor’s hands on his face. His sheets would be warm from that slender body . “It’s alright. I swear. It was only a dream.” Viktor didn’t look assuaged by his promises even as Jayce moved to lay back down. “If you truly want to make me feel better…” 

Once Viktor had given in and was lying parallel to Jayce again, Jayce took one of the hands on his face and tucked it in his own, weaving their fingers together. Even now, the dream seemed like a distant memory, drowned out by joy. 

Someday he’d have all of their limbs intertwined like this. One day he’d fall asleep with his hands tangled in Viktor’s hair.

“This will cure me.”

Even in the darkness, Jayce was knocked near breathless at the heartbreak in Viktor’s expression. “Promise me.” There was something tragic and deeply innocent about the way he asked, about the way his fingers squeezed Jayce’s even closer. From his tone, Jayce could tell that someone had once broken a promise to Viktor and broken faith so terribly that he needed this reassurance.

Jayce pushed his head closer so that the crest of his brow was resting on Viktor’s fingertips. “I promise.”

Chapter Text

Jayce kept one or two tailored suits—gifts from his mother—in his apartment for the days when he could spend time with Caitlyn. They never met in her home—Cassandra would shoot his good leg if he came anywhere close—but even being in the cafes and restaurants in Piltover set Jayce on edge. Regardless of how he styled his hair or cleaned up the edges of his beard, he still felt as if he was masquerading as a dead man. Every glance in his direction had him on the defense, wondering if they recognized the man who’d fallen from grace years earlier.

“Jayce?”

As if to compensate for her loss in vision, Caitlyn’s hearing had gotten so good that she could pick Jayce out by his breathing or his footsteps. Her dark hair pulled back, she now wore a patch over her left eye and only needed a small looking glass on her right eye when she was reading. 

Jayce smiled when he saw her and gently reached out to flick her left ear. “How are you, Sprout?”

“You keep hitting my blind spot and I’m going to sweep your leg, I swear to the gods.” Maybe that was why he got on so well with the cutting Zaunite humor; Caitlyn was equally ruthless. She smiled as she sat across from him. “It’s good to see you Jayce.”

Jayce pulled out her chair and the moment they ordered their drinks, Cait launched into a list of grievances so pointed, with such speed that Jayce often wondered if she rehearsed them beforehand.

She’d made her own way, just as he had.

With Grayson’s retirement following her staunch refusal to break up the uprising years before, the Enforcers had splintered into three different agencies and Caitlyn had joined the home guard as the lead instructor of hand-to-hand combat. With her faultless hearing and solid musculature built from years of hard practice, Jayce knew she was more than a match for him, even with one blind eye.

She’d also begun a budding relationship with Fiora, one of the local volunteer fencing instructors from New Piltover, who was the chief topic of most of Caitlyn’s diatribes. A stubborn, intelligent, confident woman from a minor Demacian house, her challenging nature both irritated and charmed Cait. In spite of her complaints, Jayce caught the soft fondness in her tone and smiled over his teacup.

“Recently Fi’s been all but impossible to reach and I’m left to wonder if I’ve overstepped in some way, all while dealing with these new recruits who only try to come at me from the left. I fear if anyone tries to attack me from the right, I’ll be woefully unprepared due to lack of practice.” She took a moment to actually take a sip of her rapidly cooling soup and Jayce took the opportunity to contribute to the conversation. 

“Now you know how I feel: in love with an abject mystery who accepts my genuine attempts to flirt, stares up at me with those pretty eyes as he threads his fingers through mine, and then disappears without warning for weeks on end.” They were well matched in their proclivity to overshare and it gave Jayce a much-needed dose of good humor. “You and I are gluttons for pain, Cait. Or we like a challenge.”

“Oh yes,” Caitlyn’s eyes widened, “How’s Viktor?” 

Jayce brought Viktor up before, unable to keep his passion secret for long, and Caitlyn had been a semi-captive audience in the past for when he needed to vomit out his feelings. Jayce pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I think I’ve fucked up, somehow. I’ve tried so hard to be respectful, to let him meet me at his pace but…since the last time we met, I haven’t seen him. I think he’s been avoiding me.” His innate ability to dodge Jayce bordered on prescience; Jayce had passed spots where the smell of newly turned earth was still heavy in the air alongside the aroma of flowers Viktor carried in his arms but the man was nowhere to be found. Jayce missed him by moments and it made his heart ache. “I’m…worried about him, Cait.”

The obsessive part of him wanted to wait outside Viktor’s home until the man returned and Jayce could question him at length. Why? What happened to ruin this precious, budding thing that we shared? Does your new cane suit you better than the old one? But he wouldn’t be one of those Piltover bastards who terrorized people in Zaun. He wouldn’t do that to Viktor.

A pensive look took over Caitlyn’s face. “You have reason to think he’s been hurt?”

If Viktor was hurt again , then Jayce would personally volunteer to be Silco’s second in command to hunt down the perpetrators. But it wasn’t the case; someone in town who’d clocked his very obvious feelings would take pity on him and let him know if Viktor had come to some harm. “No,” Jayce said miserably, “Everyone else seems to have talked to him—they bring him up every now and again when he helps someone out. It’s just me he hates.”

“He might have his reasons to keep his distance but…I don’t think he hates you, Jayce. Maybe it’s just one of those mysteries of Zaun that we’ll never really understand.”

“I can’t sleep for it.” Jayce admitted.

It was misery, to have found someone like Viktor, only to be robbed of his company without explanation. Jayce was an overthinker at the best of times and he ran over the events of the night of Viktor staying over with desperate intensity, trying to think of where everything had gone wrong. All he could remember was waking up still clutching Viktor’s hand.

He jolted as Caitlyn’s cool fingertips reached out to trace the hollows under his eyes. “I thought your eyes looked a little darker than normal. Haven’t been able to sleep?”

“My mind won’t rest. Now I have headaches, nosebleeds…I must sound insane.”

“You are insane, Jayce.” She said in a feeble attempt to make him feel better, “Always have been. But you and I are the same: to keep ourselves sane, we have to stay busy and the both of us are hopelessly adrift right now. It’s no wonder you feel like you’re going mad when you have no idea what to do.”

“And it must manifest for you in constant bitching to any poor bastard across from you—ow!” He laughed as she lightly kicked his good shin.

“There’s only one poor bastard sitting near me at present. No need to insult yourself; I’m good enough at that for the both of us.” They both giggled behind their hands, as ornery as school children as they tried not to disturb the other diners. When Caitlin composed herself, there was a familiar flicker of determination in her crystal-blue eyes. “We just have to find you something to do, something that will show Viktor how much you care, even when you’re not there to explain yourself. A gesture that he’ll understand.” She was nodding to herself as if she was considering a similar course of action.

“Like what?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out. I wonder…if I train for a few weeks…it would be difficult to wield a blade without being able to fully see.” Her train of thought was interrupted by the arrival of their lunch and they abandoned talk of their fraught love lives in favor of enjoying the meal.

There was some credence to Caitlyn’s suggestion about giving him something to do. Like a working dog given a problem to resolve, his misery was shelved as he tried to think of what types of gestures he could make. Subtlety was not his strong suit, as Viktor often teased him over . 

The subject changed over food to aspects of their work and the respective cities they lived in—always dancing around the matters of the heart—which continued after they paid for their food and kept strolling in the general direction of the Canal District. Much like with Viktor, Jayce didn’t feel the pain in his leg as acutely while walking with Cait since he enjoyed her company so much. She became truly animated as the creamy pillar of the Council headquarters came into view over the city skyline. 

“It should please you to know that, according to my gossiping father, Councilor Heimerdinger has been making life hell for some of the remaining conservative members of the Council.” Caitlyn grinned; the displeasure of politicians always seemed to rouse some wicked glee in her. Jayce had a feeling it was because many of them reminded her of her mother. “Most of that faction have lost a good deal of influence now that Zaun is its own entity and they can’t bleed it dry but…they still rant and rave as Heimerdinger pushes past their arguments.”

“Oh? What’s he been up to now?”

“Right now, I hear he’s changing up some university by-laws and he seems to be going after the other schools in the city next.” Jayce felt a smile creep up on him. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“I’m a disgraced nobody from a minor house, living in a city-state that’s still getting used to independence. I’m not someone who can sway the head of the council and the dean of the university.”

“You are a godawful liar, is what you are, and the most headstrong person I’ve ever met. If anyone could make Heimerdinger turn on his fuzzy little head it would be you.” Caitlyn paused allowing Jayce to sit and take the weight off of his leg. “He has… changed in the last year though.”

Had it been a year since he’d burst into Jayce’s apartment in a panic? Jayce was mildly surprised to recall that it was coming close to a full year; since his accident, time often seemed to flow in a detached way around him and he’d been distracted with Viktor besides. “Yeah, he’s had a complete shift. But it’s been increasing confidence in Zaun and the lower classes in Piltover.” The general consensus in Zaun before Heimerdinger’s break was that the councilor was well-meaning and benevolent but oblivious to the city’s problems and wholly incapable of enacting actual change. 

Their surprise was nearly as great as the council’s when Heimerdinger showed that he actually had some grit. 

Caitlyn looked across the canal over to Zaun’s skyline. “Everything’s changing, Jayce. Sometimes I’m worried that it’s all a dream.” Jayce reached out to take her hand in his and rubbed his thumb against the calluses on her palms. Time flowed around her too, hazy and colorful on the right, pitch black on the left; even though she teased sweeping his leg when he needled her, Jayce still could not bear to reciprocate when it came to her eyes. 

“Should I pinch you?”

“I’ll throw you in this canal.” She grinned in spite of the threat and the strange mood broke. 

They continued their walk, meandering down towards the bridge closest to Jayce’s apartment. It was close to sunset and the bridge was packed with the usual crowd of early supper diners at the food stalls. There was a healthy flow of people from the Piltover side but Caitlyn balked at the bridge entrance, giving Jayce a hot twinge of indignation.

It was one of the few things about Caitlyn that genuinely bothered him: she, like many still in the upper echelon of Piltover society, still held onto some silent reluctance when it came to Zaun.

The lower and middle classes of Piltover—the Talis family’s peers, prior to his shame—had realized quickly during the revolt that the Council’s silence and then their narrative surrounding Violet’s death was ill-informed at best, cruel at worst. A desperate young girl, not wholly unlike their own children who had to work twice as hard for a scrap of recognition . They too had suffered, to a lesser extent, the indifference and imbalance of the upper crust: rules bent for the wealthy, crimes of powerful family members ignored, lack of merit ignored in the face of a fine family name. Class warfare . Those lower on the rungs of society were the first to join Zaun’s cause and unite with them once the borders were open.

The affluent were still bitter but staunchly outnumbered.

Caitlyn wasn’t bitter, just misinformed; nearly two decades of soft prejudices wouldn’t be fully erased in the span of a few years. He pushed back his initial bristling and smiled down at her. “You ought to come visit me in Zaun next time, Sprout. There’s some good spots in the Lanes I think you’d like.”

“Yeah?”

“Bring your girl too,” Jayce ruffled Cait’s hair until it was a blue-black mess. 

“You bastard!” Caitlyn laughed as she tried to pat her hair back into some semblance of order. “I’ll bring her when you bring Viktor. I want to warn him about what a menace you are. Maybe he can still run while he has the chance before you get him in your house and never let him leave.”

“Gods Caitlyn, what kind of fucking villain do you think I am?” Jayce was half aghast, half laughing at the threat. “I already let him leave my apartment and I hardly fought back.”

Caitlyn smiled and wrapped her strong arms around Jayce’s torso. Jayce embraced her in return; she’d been much more tactile since her loss in vision and it was some comfort to Jayce to have her so close. His little Sprout, thriving . 

“If he has any sense at all, he’d dig his claws into you too.”

Meeting with Caitlyn had improved his mood immensely, if only because she had cut to the crux of the issue: he needed to occupy his hands and his mind in order to feel any sort of ease. Of course he was up incredibly late, unable to sleep as he watched the night market stalls snuff their lights for the night. Jayce had stripped down to his briefs and poured a little liquor in his tea as he scribbled errantly on loose paper.

Something that will show Viktor how much you care, even when you’re not there to explain yourself. A gesture that he’ll understand.

Jayce thought on her words carefully. Writing things down didn’t help; he only felt a flash of inspiration once he glanced down and saw the bright bit of pink next to the scar on his leg. 

Powder . 

The hardest days in Zaun were when Powder was having a difficult time. She seemed to go through wild extremes at times: some days she was brimful of energy, practically bouncing around town with her arms full of parts and the walls blooming color, while other times she was listless and despondent. After a few years, Jayce knew to let her be; there was nothing he could do to help. He couldn’t give her what she really wanted: her sister.

Even when she was in the deepest spirals, and Ekko mentioned off-handedly about how she hated seeing Vi’s murals in Zaun as the reminder of the accident, she always defaulted to painting in pink in those moments. There was still love there, in the vibrant color of her sister’s hair.

He’d do likewise; he’d paint the town with his affection so that no one could question his sincerity. And if Viktor wanted nothing to do with him…at least Zaun would be more beautiful for the man. Viktor loved his flowers .

Sleep would come easy after this as relief and inspiration suffused through his bloodstream, spurring his pencil with desperate speed across the page. 

Jayce would get the rest of his neighborhood but for now, he’d start with his sills. The next time Viktor saw his apartment, there’d be new planter boxes built onto the windowsills and he’d have the startings of the yellow fissure tears that Viktor had fields of around his greenhouse. Then he’d get some outside the Last Drop, along the banks of the canal, every step of the way from his apartment to the elevator to the lower levels of Zaun. 

Viktor loved flowers. Jayce would make sure that every step the man took from the Lanes to Jayce’s apartment was frothing with them. 

Jayce planted flowers at every job with varying levels of success. The soil was loamy poison in some places and the locals who watched him stick in a bulb or cast some seeds looked at the dirt under his fingernails with knowing, sympathetic smiles.

Still after our bloomer, eh? You might have chosen someone a little easier to woo.

Jayce could only smile and keep planting. 

Powder had accompanied him on his most recent job to the Crepuscule and he glanced over from his current job—an undulating curtain of neon filaments which needed to be hooked up to a control panel so that the color and frequency of light could be adjusted depending on the owner's mood—and his planting to see her working on something that resembled a metallic shark with a hinged jaw and blue glass eyes.

"What's it do?" He asked her. It was nice to see her creating things. She was good at it—sometimes he suspected she was as good or better than Claggor or Ekko—but her heart wasn't always in it. She jolted a little bit as he noticed.

"It's just a shark. Not everything has to do something, bolts-for-brains." She shook her screwdriver in his direction as if it was a magic wand. Her limbs curled up close, defensively, and Jayce made sure to tread lightly. He looked over the shark and his professional eye caught some of the little details that gave her away.

"So the ballast you've installed is just for fun? And the propulsion mechanics in the tail are cosmetic? What about the directional schematics I see under the main body? And the—"

"Gods, enough!" Powder laughed as she tossed one of the loose bulbs he'd given her at his head. Jayce caught it handily and smiled. "You're so fucking annoying."

"So I've been told. But I've got a couple years on you." And a lot more formal training , though he left that bit unsaid. "It's an air-tight machine, yeah? Have you seen how it moves in the water?"

"Not yet. This is the first iteration. Imagine it bigger so that you could store cargo or even have people ride in them under the water. That way things won’t be affected by the wind,” she waved her elegant fingers in the general direction of the Piltover sky where dirigibles bobbed by like mechanical clouds. It was a brilliant idea with Powder’s touch in the whimsical shape. “But…it’s just an idea.”

Jayce patted her shoulder once he’d wiped his hands clean. “Let me take a look at it once you’re done. Viktor’s already been helping you with it, hasn’t he?”

He laughed as Powder opened the jaws of her creation and a half dozen flower bulbs spilled out into her hands. “How’d you know?” She was a great deal less gentle than Jayce as she plunged them into the earth at her hip.

“I’d recognize his work anywhere.” Jayce admitted. As much as if he had signed it, Viktor’s orderly touches were obvious amidst Powder’s jaunty chaos. 

“He’s remarkably good at this, eh sis?”

“Reviewing your tech?”

“Yearning.” Powder shot back.

He couldn’t argue against her and they continued bickering past their planting, all the way up as they made the walk back to the Lanes. Powder perked up the moment they came close to her home and saw a small crowd congregating in the central space in the center of the road.

There had been a crowd waiting for him, ready to tear him apart… just like he wanted . Jayce stepped so that he was in front of Powder until he could assess if there was a threat.

Heimerdinger was perched on one of the raised beds near the Last Drop, his tiny boots just barely avoiding the flowers Jayce had planted in every bare spot around the bar a few days before. Pink flowers, pink as Vi’s hair . The crowd had gathered around the little yordle as he held a stamped piece of paper victoriously aloft. Jayce approached, if only to see what the mad creature had set in motion this time around.

They came to the outskirts of the throng just in time to hear Heimerdinger make his announcement, “—as Dean of Piltover’s Academy and head of the Council, as of this morning, the youth of Zaun are now eligible for enrollment in any of Piltover’s schools. They’re also welcome to compete in any one of our academia based events such a Progress Day, the Distinguished Innovator’s Competition—”

Jayce heard a small gasp and was unsure if it came from him or Powder.

When he looked over, Powder had clutched a bit of his shirtsleeve in her fingers and was staring, unblinking, at Heimerdinger. Jayce felt a rush of fondness for her; he remembered, vaguely, the feeling of having all of his dreams suddenly appearing at his fingertips.

She looked up at him and there was such sweet hope in the depths of her pale blue eyes. “It’s not a dream,” he said preemptively, “I heard it too.”

“A fund has been established,” Heimerdinger continued, gesturing in the general direction of the bar, “for any institutions that have tuition and the leaders of your community are going to provide additional support for students wishing to pursue medicine, engineering, education, and agriculture.” That was a brilliant touch; obviously Silco’s.

Investing in education for kids who would come back to their home city and make improvements, even Jayce could admire the cunning in it. And for the kids, many of whom were brilliant but didn’t have many options for formal education past the age of fifteen, this opportunity was worth its weight in gold.

“E-Ekko.” Powder whispered and Jayce swooped down to catch her shark machine before it slipped from her fingers and dented against the cobblestone streets below. “I have to find Ekko…”

Jayce opened his arms. “Give me your stuff, kid.”

His arms were laden with her tool bag and the metal shark as she darted off in search of the boy. She only had to call once or twice.

“Powder?”

“Ekko!”

Jayce looked up to see Ekko hopping down from the rooftops in his undershirt, covered in soot as if something had blown up in his face. He met Powder halfway across the square and clasped her forearms in his hands and Jayce watched as Ekko’s boyish face went from concern, to shock, to delight as Powder explained. From Benzo’s good-natured gossip, none of the Drop kids wanted access to the competitions quite as badly as Ekko did. 

His shout of delight ricocheted  across the town square and it was echoed by Powder as he embraced her and lifted her entirely off the ground. Ekko spun Powder in a blue-white blur, their foreheads pressed tightly together in a distinctly Zaunite show of intimacy. 

Jayce nearly cheered for Ekko as his coup was complete. He set Powder on the ground and leaned forward to kiss her on the mouth as she tossed her arms around his neck.

The little man finally went and did it . 

He was looking around the throng, gauging people’s reactions to the announcement, when a flash of indigo caught his eye from across the square, at the entrance to one of the small alleys, causing his heart to seize. Viktor . Jayce would recognize him in a crowd of thousands and he immediately felt a surge of peace on seeing that the man was safe. Viktor, hearing of opportunities coming a few years too late . 

He had to talk to him. Jayce had to make sure he was alright. 

It was slow going. By the time he was able to return Powder’s things, Viktor must have clocked his presence and stepped away, leaving only a scatter of petals to prove that it wasn’t an illusion. His limp was more pronounced than Jayce’s, but he had a head start that seemed insurmountable. 

Desperation rose in his chest as it seemed every turn to the alley he could only catch vague glimpses of a retreating form. Did I miscalculate? Do you hate me? Have you seen the flowers? Viktor…Viktor…  

Jayce tried to run. In his dreams and nightmares he could run, and nothing in them compared to the abject need he felt to reach Viktor. 

The first few paces went alright, though his hips tingled with the unfamiliar motion. He felt the tight tissue of his scar flex with his muscles and a bubble of elation grew in his chest as he thought his body wouldn’t fail him for the first time in a long time. He should have known it was too good to last.

Before he could call Viktor’s name, a bolt of pain rippled up from his bones into his hip and then into the entire left side of his body. Instead of Viktor’s name, he cried out in pain and his next step brought him to his knees on the cobblestone streets. Jayce couldn’t move; he would be in immense pain for hours, he’d lose Viktor, and the weight of his failure crushed painfully into his chest until even breathing was hell.

Viktor .

“Jayce? Jayce !” The pain was pushed firmly to the side as he heard his name being called in Viktor’s heavily accented voice. Then there were hands on his face, tilting his head up and his eyes brimmed over. Viktor had let his cane fall to the ground and was now kneeling in front of Jayce with his eyebrows upturned in concern. Jayce felt the fingers stroke his face and melted into the feeling. “Jayce, are you hurt? Are you—?”

“Viktor,” Jayce shifted up, clasping Viktor’s hands in his and nearly pressed his forehead against Viktor’s, “you said my name . You finally said my name.” 

“Gods, that’s not—are you alright ?” His thumb brushed just under Jayce’s eye, clearing the remnants of his tears. “Your leg…”

“I wanted to see you—I had to talk to you. Viktor . Did I,” Jayce’s eyes scanned every inch of Viktor’ face, looking for trepidation, anger, fear, hatred, “was it something I did? Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry if I—if I…” Unable to help himself, Jayce rested his head against Viktor’s. He’d already ruined so many things in his life that he would spend the rest of his days in quiet atonement. But his remaining scrap of selfishness couldn’t bear to lose the kindred soul in front of him. “I missed you.”

“You didn’t hurt me, Jayce.” Jayce breathed a laugh of relief, still delighted over the sound of his name on Viktor’s lips. “You didn’t offend or intimidate. This is…my own hesitation.”

“You’re Zaunite; you’d tell me if I overstep.” Jayce, unable to help himself, slid one hand to rest on the back of Viktor’s slim neck. It felt natural there, as if the curve of Viktor’s nape, the jutting knobs of his spine had been carved to fit each of Jayce’s fingers. He wondered if his was the same when Viktor slotted his hand on Jayce’s arm, the tip of his index finger resting perfectly on Jayce’s pulse.

“Why do you persist?” Viktor asked as he shook his head softly. It felt as though he was nuzzling against Jayce. “After all I’ve put you through?”

Jayce tried to put it into words that would convey the depth of his feelings. “Because you understand: the need to make something, the love of creation, you understand it like no one else. You try to push it down and it keeps…coming back. The loneliness, the sorrow, I understand when I see it in you.” His was from a font of his own sins; Viktor’s was unknown but Jayce wanted to soothe it. “After so long of resigning myself to being alone and then meeting you? When spending time with you is like… living again? I persist because I can't bear to let you go.” He felt as though he was breathing hard by this admission. “Viktor…”

Viktor let the admission—as stark a confession as Jayce could manage without sounding completely undone—hang in the air for a moment. Again, his expression was suffused with cautious hope.

“Even if I can only offer you friendship? Or even less? A professional partnership?” 

“So long as you’re here .” Jayce agreed.

“I’m not…I’m imperfect, Jayce. I always have been, in spite of your perceptions of me.” Viktor bit at his bottom lip and Jayce wondered if he was referencing his leg.

“Then we’re well-matched.” Viktor said his name. “I never expected perfection. I just…wanted to spend more time with you.”

Viktor’s breath was shaky as if he too was on the very precipice of tears but his inner fortitude was so great that he managed to compose himself. His smile came slowly and it was all the more precious for it. “You’ve been planting flowers.”

“You love flowers.”

Viktor smiled in disbelief. “I don’t know…how I ever thought I could win against you. And I…I care for you too much to continue this hurt.” Viktor cared for him. He didn’t hate Jayce . “I have to trust that…it will be alright.”

This cryptic, melancholy, sweet bloomer. Jayce adored him. “I won’t break your faith in me.” 

Viktor’s hands trembled when they gripped onto Jayce, seemingly for dear life. One day Jayce would embrace him until all the terror had fled. For now he was content to hold this position until Viktor’s nerves were calmed, for minutes, hours, however long it took…

“Should we—” His eyes were golden, wide as anything.

Jayce was able to stand a little faster and he held out his hand for Viktor to use as support as he grabbed his cane and hoisted himself to his feet. There was a stiffness in his joints that would likely ache the following morning but he was beyond caring. When Viktor was next to him, Jayce placed his hand lightly above the small of Viktor’s back in case he found himself unsteady. 

Viktor did frown at whatever feeling was ricocheting through his legs and hips. “Gods, I have a feeling we’ll both regret spending so long on the ground come morning.”

Jayce smiled as he began to mirror Viktor’s steps. He had no idea where Viktor wanted to go—back into the Drop, to his home in the Fissures, to Jayce’s apartment, strolling the Lanes—but he’d follow without question. “I think it will hurt less than seeing you disappear without a trace.” Emboldened by Viktor’s body heat so close at hand, Jayce let himself lightly flirt, “Will you say my name again?”

“You exaggerate,” Viktor glanced at him and his features softened, “ Jayce .”

Chapter Text

Viktor was becoming more comfortable staying over at Jayce’s apartment. Though their sleeping arrangements remained the same as his first stay, there were signs of Viktor’s growing comfort which Jayce catalogued with tingling delight: a spare toothbrush in his bathroom, the extra cane, a stack of Jayce’s old shirts that hung to the middle of his thighs when he wore them to bed. It also meant that they could stay up as long as they liked bouncing ideas back and forth and cobbling prototypes together with whatever Jayce had on hand. 

It was thanks to this arrangement that Viktor was present when Jayce received his invitation to Heimerdinger’s retirement party in Zaun.

Viktor had fallen asleep at Jayce’s desk the previous night and Jayce had been forced to wake him up and help him over to the bed. One day he’d build up the nerve to pick Viktor up and take him to bed without waking him but he was too worried about his leg to try. There was some balm, being able to wake up to see Viktor curled up in the morning sun—he curled up like a cat in dreams, with everything below his nose cuddled under the blankets—with his brown eyelashes resting on the tops of his cheeks. Jayce’s arms were long enough that he could reach out his hand and stroke the tips of Viktor’s lashes…

Viktor’s brows furrowed and he snuggled deeper into the covers as Jayce’s mail slot rattled. A good enough time as any to get up so that Viktor wouldn’t catch him staring. 

He had massaged out the aches of his leg, fetched the mail, and started the first pot of coffee of the day before Viktor sat up and stared blankly at nothing. Jayce couldn’t help but smile at discovering another charming habit: Viktor took forever to wake up in the mornings . He sat upright and bleary for nearly half an hour before he built up the energy to move and talk.

“You’re a vision.” Jayce teased him as he blinked. “Look at your hair , V.” It curled at the tips in every direction in direct contrast to his calm, controlled demeanor. “Coffee?”

“You ask a lot of questions this early in the morning.”

“I asked you one question.” He poured an extra cup anyway. Add milk, a bit of honey too . 

As Jayce grew closer to Viktor and Viktor lowered his mental walls, he became unable to hide his sarcastic streak. Far from being alarmed or dismayed, Jayce liked that the gentle bloomer everyone else knew had just as much of a smart mouth as anyone else in Zaun.

“Any requests for breakfast?” Jayce asked as he handed Viktor his coffee and attempted to ruffle his hair into some semblance of order. By now Viktor was familiar with the food he kept on hand in the pantry. “Eggs?”

Viktor liked eggs, sausage, and buttered rye bread in the mornings . Jayce kept a healthy stock of them at all times. It was a slow burn courtship but Jayce was seeing results already, if only by how comfortable Viktor was in his home. As he poured the eggs into a skillet, Jayce turned on hearing the sound of tearing paper to find Viktor in the process of opening his mail.

“You just opened my letter.” Jayce said in disbelief.

“It says it’s important .” Viktor offered up by way of argument. “And you didn’t seem to be in a hurry.”

“Well at least tell me what it says.” Jayce gave up on fighting him over it and settled for being able to listen to Viktor read aloud in his charming accent. The sound of his voice was like the trace of a cool finger down Jayce’s spine.

“Jayce Talis,” Viktor’s tongue was sensuously soft on the ‘s’ of Talis and it made Jayce’s skin rise, “you’ve been invited to Professor Heimerdinger’s retirement party next month. He mentions that it’s purely because he esteems you and that he won’t take it personally if you don’t make an appearance in Piltover.”

“Thank the fucking gods,” Jayce sighed, his stomach still twisting in fear at the idea of going to some godforsaken, gilded fete in the council chambers. Cassandra Kiramman would probably challenge him to a duel. 

Viktor shot him a look of sympathy before continuing. “He adds that he will be having post-gala drinks at his expense for select friends in Zaun at the Last Drop. You’re also invited to that as well.”

“Much better,” Jayce sighed in relief. “Do you have something to wear?”

“ Me ?” Completely flummoxed, Viktor nearly dropped the letter. “This invitation is for you.” 

“But you’re coming with me, aren’t you?” Jayce beamed at Viktor as he set the breakfast plate down on the table. Viktor’s ears flushed. “I doubt Heimerdinger would begrudge me to bring a partner.”

“A partner.” Viktor said slowly as his cheeks turned the same pink as his ears.

“Whatever gets you to come.” Jayce leaned his head towards the breakfast plate. “Think about it while you eat.”

Viktor’s ears remained pink as he spooned the eggs off his plate—thank the gods his ears ruined any sort of mystery. Jayce simply ate his out of the pan and watched Viktor dither. He swore he could see the wheels in Viktor’s brilliant mind turning as he thought of every scenario. It was the same look of calculated determination he’d taken while inspecting the laser tool Jayce was creating for cutting custom molds of the smallest cogs and gears. It was such a finicky bit of machinery, Jayce thought smoke would pour from Viktor’s ears.

There was the familiar glint of amber as Viktor glanced at him. “I am…not always the best equipped for social gatherings.”

“That’s a very roundabout way of saying you’re shy. You can hide behind me if you need to.” 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

“The two loners, joined at the hip.” Jayce smiled at him, scenting victory. “Please. Come with me.”

“I’ll think about it.” Viktor wouldn’t give him the assurance he craved and Jayce felt a spike of adoration. Challenging little thing. Jayce had a feeling Viktor would capitulate at the moment he least expected and it would spear Jayce directly in the heart. “Can you bring out the heating mechanism? I had an idea…”

They continued to work on the laser-cutter over breakfast and a second cup of coffee, Jayce clearing a space for all the delicate moving parts.

“Do you think you’ll sell this, once you’ve moved past the prototype phase?” Viktor asked as he inspected the halves of the casing, “I imagine there’d be quite a market in Zaun and beyond for this kind of technology. Perhaps for surgeries—”

“No,” Jayce insisted, a little too quickly and a little too loud. Defensive . He lowered his hackles, “No…I won’t sell anything that could be upgraded and twisted into some kind of weapon. If this can cut through metal then someone could use it to cut through flesh for all the wrong reasons.” He had to massage the spot over his scar to keep from coiling tighter. “I couldn’t… bear that. To hell with the money, I won’t pursue anything that could be used to cause death.” Vi was lesson enough. Gods, Violet…she’d deserved to live . It wasn’t worth it. 

He jolted as Viktor reached out and stroked his knuckles, pulling him back from a downward spiral. “I understand, Jayce. No weapons.” He didn’t seem to mind as Jayce turned his hand, their palms resting together.

Viktor didn’t press for his reasoning; he accepted it as a matter of course. His voice was flush with relief, “In the past, I thought I wanted to give this kind of ‘magic’ to the world. Now all I want—”

“I’ll go with you.” Viktor said before Jayce could finish his sentence, “I’ll be your partner at this party.”

Exactly as he’d predicted, Jayce felt as though he’d been kicked in the chest and he was unable to help himself as he squeezed Viktor’s hand. He was in so much trouble. Oh gods, this sweet, amber-eyed man would be the death of him .

A holdout habit from Piltover and, more importantly, his mother was that Jayce was fairly rigid when it came to high society conventions of escorting a partner to a social engagement. Though he was no longer brushing shoulders with the upper crust and he only had two sets of clothes that could be considered formal for Zaunite standards, he took the time to tame his hair and sharpen the edges of his beard so that no one in Zaun could argue that their bloomer had aligned himself with a slovenly topsider.

"Looks alright, Vi?" He murmured on the elevator ride down to the fissures. There was no definitive response but his leg ached a little less as he reached Viktor's home.

Vindication, he liked to think that Viktor had taken a little extra care with his appearance...or his assessment was stricken by the sweet, hesitant look on Viktor's face as he glanced up and pursed his lips. "You didn't...have to come all this way..."

"A bit late for that, no?" Jayce grinned. "You ready?"

He didn't go as far as to offer Viktor his arm like he would for a lady, settling instead for allowing his hand to hover just between Viktor's shoulder blades. Viktor worried his teeth into his bottom lip as the elevator yanked them back upwards and Jayce couldn't help but tease him a little.

"It looks strange to see you without flowers. Should I have brought you some?"

"I would hate to draw more attention to myself than is absolutely necessary." Viktor shuddered at the thought and Jayce felt bold enough to reach over and pat Viktor on the shoulder. “While there is a kind of… sting to being ignored, I hate the feeling of being surrounded, of my leg being jostled even more than that.”

“Looks like you’ll have to stay close.”

“You really are shameless, aren’t you?” Viktor sighed, though it did make him crack a smile. “I’ve clearly lodged in your mind, through no active making on my part. And yet…always more with you.”

“I can’t help that you’re so charming.”

It had the intended effect of getting Viktor to relax and his lower lip was spared any further abuse. In spite of all his bluster, he was less than a centimeter from melding to Jayce as they entered the semi-crowded barroom. Jayce smiled at the heat close to his skin and at the interior. Powder had been busy .

She’d created some sort of oscillating mobile in front of a light so that slices of color flashed across the walls and floors like the inside of a kaleidoscope and she’d hung ‘chandeliers’ made of multicolored bits of scrap, strung up with neon pink ribbon. It was a technicolor explosion; Jayce loved it. Silco was in the center of it all, greeting Zaunite friends and the rare Piltovan who’d decided to join; Jayce noticed that none of the councilors had taken Heimerdinger up on his invitation though there were a pack of young kids who ran with Ekko and Powder’s group and had crashed the party in hopes of getting their aspiring inventions some attention.

In spite of all of his earlier bravado, Viktor shied away in the face of a crowd, ducking back so that he was almost completely obscured by the breadth of Jayce’s shoulders. Sweet, shy thing .

“Told you Himerdinger wouldn’t mind an extra head.”

“It helps that he’s purchased the alcohol.” Silco had noted their presence and appeared silently in front of Jayce with his hand outstretched. “Viktor, it’s wonderful to see you, dear boy. You’ll have an invitation then, Talis?”

Jayce felt his stomach drop. “I…I left it at home. I-I’ll be right back.”

Viktor seized his elbow before he could flee back to his apartment and Silco’s mouth curved up. “Don’t listen to him, Jayce. He wants to see you frantic.”

“Saw right through me,” Silco patted Viktor’s cheek and there was something darkly ironic about his jovial tone while his unseeing eye seemed to bore into Jayce. “Enjoy the party.” Jayce was only too happy to carve a path to the bar before Silco could toy with him further. 

“Buy you a drink?” Jayce asked Viktor once he’d secured a stool for his bloomer to sit.

“It’s less impressive of an offer now that I know the drinks are compensated. Hello Vander. No rest for the wicked?” Vander turned to the both of them and grinned as he expertly rattled his shaker back and forth.

“Ah Viktor! And Jayce. Good to see the both of you.” 

Jayce looked around while Viktor and Vander exchanged pleasantries, spotting familiar faces in the crowd. He spotted Ekko with the chiropteran vastaya who volunteered with the night watch and smiled when Powder suctioned to his side, their hands going around each other’s waists. Good for them . “Guess those two have finally come out with it.”

Vander heard and laughed over the sound of pouring ice. “Ah yes, Silco won that estimate. Cleaned Benzo and I out but…he knows our girl best.”

“You bet on these things?” Viktor asked, sounding half amused and half shocked by the idea.

“Got to find something to pass the time while we work.” Vander replied. “Silco usually wins; you’d think I’d have learned my lesson not to bet with him but…what’s mine is his anyway.” The fondness in his tone was inescapable. “We had numbers going with the kids as to whether or not Talis would wear you down.”

Jayce could hear the blush in Viktor’s voice. “Why any of you would bet against him is beyond me. He’s relentless .”

“I can hear the both of you.” Jayce’s protests were weak since he couldn’t exactly deny Viktor’s charges. He couldn’t bear to look over at Viktor to see his expression so he kept looking out over the party. 

He heard the sound of his glass resting against the wood of the bar at the same time he saw the woman in the crowd and then—

He was in his mother’s kitchen, eyes dry, somehow calm in spite of the long days and nights. Somehow he felt…human after making his promise. She’d come in looking equally haggard and taken off her commander’s cap when she saw how he was waiting for her.

“Talis,” her voice was impossible to mistake for any other; the sound of rocks moving against one another, the movement of primordial earth, smoke, fire—could she sense he’d been reborn? “We’re here to escort you.”

Jayce stood and looked at the others, locking eyes with a familiar face: Marcus, the enforcer captain who’d been in his apartment, the very first enforcer who’d turned side and joined Zaun in their demand for independence. His eyes were hollow, ringed with dark circles, and there was the overall look of a man haunted in the dark brown depths of his irises. When Marcus breathed…Jayce could detect the echoes of the screaming in each breath. 

“You hear her too.” Jayce murmured and Marcus looked up, his face taking on a sallow color as if he was about to faint. “I’m ready.” 

His mother had wept while she kissed his cheeks and they’d been kind enough to wait. “What will it be?”

Jayce had steeled his resolve hours before. “Take me to Stillwater.”

He hadn’t seen Commander Grayson since then and the world narrowed to pinpricks as he saw her conversing with Sevika and one of her associates, a baron from the southside covered in tattoos, including one on his bicep of Vi’s profile. He could smell the salt of tears in the air. His mind moved at half the speed of his mouth, “You’ve got Blues here as well?”

“Former Blue.” Vander corrected kindly. “If I recall she was stripped of her titles and accolades for refusing to gun us and her renegade subordinates down. And she’s an old friend of mine and the professor’s. Seemed deserving enough to warrant entrance with minimal struggle.”

“I see…” Jayce clutched the spot of fabric over his thundering heart.

He nearly jumped from his skin as he felt Viktor’s hand on the center of his back. Viktor’s eyes were wider than usual when Jayce turned to look at him and he picked up their drinks before Jayce could say anything. “Professor Heimerdinger is here. We should go say hello.”

Jayce let Viktor lead the way, feeling more himself with each step he put between himself and another reminder of his past. Viktor didn’t pry…even if he should have. Instead he escorted Jayce over to Heimerdinger and then pressed close to Jayce’s back, as if attempting to block him from Grayson’s view. Jayce reached back to pat the closest part of Viktor he could reach as reassurance and landed on Viktor’s slim hip, startling a gasp from both of them. Fuck …

Jayce was sure they were both deeply red as Heimerdinger noticed them and puffed up in delight. ”Jayce! Oh and— oh !”

“Viktor,” in a surprising show of extroversion, Viktor thrust out his hand and shook Heimerdinger’s. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

“Ah…ah, yes. Viktor. Nice to meet you as well, dear boy. Jayce certainly…knows how to pick a partner.” It was a sweet attempt at a compliment and Jayce relaxed a little more. “I’m so pleased you both were able to attend.”

“Have you given any thought to what you’ll do with your retirement?” Jayce asked, hoping it would distract Heimerdinger long enough to let his blush die down.

“Oh, I still have a bit to do before I can truly relax,” It was the right question to ask. Heimerdinger launched into a monologue so full of excitement that Jayce had to step away to fetch Viktor a chair. Music, personal inventing projects, travel, the list seemed insurmountable for anyone who was not blessed with such a long life. “The main situation currently at hand is to make sure that no one is able to walk back all of the improvements I’ve set in place for Zaun’s benefit.” His bright blue eyes hardened in determination. 

“How did you manage that?” Viktor asked.

“Thanks to my rather…contentious nature regarding the matter, I swore that I wouldn’t return to bother my colleagues further. I’ve also instated several of your own countrymen as liaisons for Zaun. Ah, and here’s our resident environmental specialist handpicked by Silco,” Silco heard his name and raised his drink as a young woman stepped up to Heimerdinger’s side, “and the next in line for the assistant dean’s position for the science and engineering department, Sky Young.”

She was youthful and pretty, every inch the scholar with her unruly, curly hair pulled back out of her face, though some wayward curls had slipped out. Her brown eyes lit up when she saw Viktor and she launched forward to grasp his hand, “Viktor! Is it really you?”

“It’s good to see you again, Miss Young.” Viktor said warmly.

“You know each other?” Jayce tried to sound unaffected but Viktor must have sensed the desperate jealousy simmering just underneath. He raised one dark eyebrow in disbelief and laughed at Jayce’s inability to hide anything.

“Miss Young and I are friends from childhood.” Viktor explained lightly. “She was the one who first sparked my interest in botany. I haven’t seen you since you slipped away to join the university.”

“Thanks to you!” She laughed, her freckled cheeks glowing pink even in the dark. “I always hoped you’d find your way up to joining me eventually. Too risky to find another uniform?” She and Heimerdinger required no invitation to launch into Sky’s impressive audacity: donning an Academy uniform, sneaking into lectures until she was discovered by Heimerdinger, and then, on being asked about her enrollment status, lied and said she was the dean’s assistant. Heimerdinger was so impressed by her gall that he gave her the position. But her coup was tinged with confusion for Jayce. 

She’d made it sound like Viktor could have joined her. He could have followed her to this wonderful future. Why hadn’t he?

Viktor didn’t keep him in suspense for long. 

When Benzo, Ekko, and Claggor took over the conversation, Jayce and Viktor both shied away from the crowd and retreated into the darker corners of a private booth. Gone were the days when he dreamt of a position like Miss Young’s…though there was still a twinge of pain being that close to the honeyed glow of success. Viktor stirred his drink with his pinkie finger and Jayce’s mouth went dry watching the elegant motion of it, so entranced that he nearly missed Viktor’s hushed response over the music.

“I couldn’t do it.” 

“Do what?” Viktor sounded a little melancholy so Jayce reached out to touch his hand on instinct.

“The university. I couldn’t do it. Not this time.” In spite of his clear resolve on the matter, Jayce knew his voice well enough now that he could parse out Viktor’s emotion by tone alone. “I wouldn’t want to hurt Miss Young’s chances to have her dreams be realized.”

There was something distant, far away that had cold fear swelling in Jayce’s stomach. I have to pull him back . Don’t go where I can’t reach you . “Viktor,” Jayce turned Viktor’s hand so that he could put his fingers between Viktor’s, one by one, “there’s no shame in…wanting more than just a place to exist in the world.” It seemed hypocritical for him to say when he so often had to remind himself to live. He felt himself frowning over the idea of Viktor having similar hopeless thoughts. “There’s no sin so great—”

“You don’t know that.” Viktor interrupted.

“But I know you .” Jayce let his index finger stroke up and down the length of Viktor’s, tracking the thin line of his finger tattoos. “Curing people, helping them reach their dreams even if…apparently you’re left behind in the process. You deserve,” everything, everything Jayce could give him , “a good life.”

Viktor sighed and gave in, squeezing Jayce’s hand before bringing it to his forehead. “You ought to have been a public speaker. You’d be a natural on stage.”

“Maybe in another life.” Jayce responded and Viktor gave him a long look, dropping Jayce’s hand so he could take his drink. Jayce laughed over Viktor’s irritation at having his words turned back on him. “How’d you know I was going to ask about the academy.”

“I know you too.” Viktor murmured back.

As always, Viktor was his mirror. He understood Jayce—Jayce could feel that Viktor was making no exaggerations; he knew —and he was flush with joy as Viktor reached out to hold his hand again once he was finished with his drink. Jayce memorized the feeling of Viktor’s fingers for the duration of the party and long after. He’d only let go once, reluctantly, as Viktor changed into Jayce’s old shirt, a favorite of Jayce’s since it was barely long enough to reach past Viktor’s underwear. 

The fabric smelled like his skin…his hair…Jayce’s bed…

The moment Jayce settled into his cot and Viktor was bundled in the covers on Jayce’s mattress, his slim hand reached out again to hold on to Jayce’s. Jayce studied Viktor’s fingers and sleeping face in the dark and unease crept in now that there were no other distractions. Something was haunting Viktor.

He’d suspected it for some time but their conversation from the party merely added more evidence for Jayce’s suspicion that Viktor was purposefully crushing himself. Avoiding close relationships, shying from any kind of recognition, deliberately denying himself a chance to reach his dreams—there was a feeling of atonement to his actions Jayce could relate to. But why? What had brought him to this feeling of unworthiness .

Jayce couldn’t sleep for his overthinking. Silco might know . He was the one Viktor had turned to in a true moment of crisis and Silco had followed through without question. Jayce would never ask him; he was too intimidated by the man and he feared Viktor would retreat in terror if he found Jayce had pried. No… far better was to keep tending to this sweet, fragile partnership in hopes that one day Viktor would tell Jayce himself.

His bad leg tingled in a reminder that he too was keeping things secret. How would Viktor react on hearing that Jayce was responsible for Violet’s death? For killing the lovely, rebellious symbol of Zaun? It didn’t help with the fear or the overthinking.

When Jayce finally calmed down enough to sleep, his own guilt and hypocrisy followed him into the unconscious. He was killing people with his forging hammer, their bodies dropping into the depths of Zaun. Viktor stood on the very seam of the bridge separating the two cities and struck Jayce’s hand from him with a look of judgement and contempt in his wide eyes. His punishment was to carve his guilt—facts, figures, technical drawings—into the hard face of a chalkboard until his hands bled.

He was weeping, Powder was screaming, and pain lanced through his head like nails being driven through his temples. His apologies were an endless stream until he was shaken awake by Viktor who’d apparently heard Jayce crying in his sleep. 

In the morning all his concerns seemed to dissipate in the light of day, with Viktor in his bed, still holding his hand.

After so long spending time with each other, Jayce had established a routine with Viktor and met with him nearly every day. If Viktor hadn’t spent the night, then Jayce would walk to the Lanes center square and wait for Viktor to join him. Then Viktor would accompany Jayce as he made his way to his appointments for the day, planting new flowers in the closest patch of earth. They ate their meals together, volleyed ideas for Jayce’s custom orders back and forth, and—if Viktor was not too exhausted by the day’s end—they’d return to Jayce’s apartment to continue their conversation until Viktor inevitably fell asleep on Jayce’s bed.

No longer did Jayce have to pep himself up in the morning in preparation to greet the day; just the knowledge he’d be able to see Viktor was enough motivation to live.

They’d kept the routine up for so long that Jayce was immediately stricken with concern when Viktor didn’t show up one morning. He paced, biting his thumbnail, as he considered walking down to the fissure or going to find Silco. If Viktor had simply overslept and the cavalry came then Jayce would be mortified. But…if someone had hurt him again…

Thank the gods Mylo saved him from the decision. He ran from the bar with a scrap of paper held aloft, though he didn’t give Jayce the chance to read it. “Hey Piltie! Your bloomer is sick. He sent up a note through the pipes telling you not to come down.”

The relief was immediate. “Thanks, Mylo!”

“W-Where are you going?” Mylo asked, shocked as Jayce walked past him towards the general direction of the elevators.

“I’m going down to see if he’s alright.” Jayce responded, completely ignoring Viktor’s warning. “Will you send a note to the Wharfside and Knick? They’re my only jobs today and I won’t be able to make it. They’ll understand if you mention Viktor.” He didn’t stay long enough to hear Mylo’s response; he trusted the boy to make the necessary arrangements.

From what he’d come to know of Zaun, up until the last few years even the most basic illness had the possibility to be fatal with the poor air quality and lack of access to inexpensive medication. Viktor was out of his mind if he thought Jayce wouldn’t come to check on him.

It seemed Viktor’s observation on his lack of subtlety was not completely unfounded. When he reached the greenhouse, he found the door locked and a silhouette leaning against the door from the inside. 

“Viktor?”

“I had a feeling you only read the very first sentence of my message. You should go, Jayce.” Viktor sounded utterly miserable, wheezing as he leaned against the door. “I…you’ll get sick.”

“I heard your message but elected to ignore the second half.” Jayce rapped his knuckles against the glass. “Viktor…I had to make sure you’re alright. Do you need anything? Do you have a fever? Should I bring down fresh water? Is there anything—”

He jumped a little as Viktor fumbled the latch and swung the door inward, leaning heavily on the wrought-iron handle. “Gods, just come in then. I’ll overheat if you ask me anything else…”

He was still in his pajamas, face gaunt, and the smell of sickness permeated from the inside of the greenhouse with such ferocity that Jayce began to open windows the moment he made sure Viktor safely got back into bed. When he was bundled up to his nose in blankets, Jayce could breathe again. He pulled up a chair next to Viktor’s bedside and pressed his knuckles lightly against Viktor’s forehead. Even though he was unusually warm, he breathed in relief at the heat of Jayce’s hand. Fever .

“I know you said no questions but—”

“Ah, to hell with that.” Viktor sighed. “I could sooner stop the sun from rising than keep you from prying. Go ahead.”

“This isn’t a chronic, is it?” Jayce asked, referring to the illnesses brought about by the lingering, incurable after-effects of the Grey and the general pollution that still remained. “If so, I can get you—”

“I-I’ve never…I can’t get a chronic. It’s just a cold.” Viktor interrupted. “No need to sound the alarm.”

Jayce nodded. “Ok. Alright…Just rest then.” He felt Viktor’s gaze like a brand on his back as he went to Viktor’s small cold storage to see what he had to work with. He laughed when he saw the contents: a half eaten jar of pickled yanda root, one egg, and a single block of cheese with teeth marks in the edges as if someone had been too lazy to carve off slices and simply bitten in. “I never want to hear you complain about the contents of my pantry again; you eat like an academy student during midterms. I’ll call down for food.”

“Soup…” Viktor’s voice was muffled under the blankets.

“I’ll do my best. Won’t be as good as my mama’s though. Even though hers is spicy enough to fucking kill me sometimes.” He searched the rusty aid tin set on the back of Viktor’s toilet and found a half dozen weak pain pills, rolls of bandages, and the leather bracelet he’d worn to the bridge. Jayce added medicine to his mental list. 

“I’m used to…watery—” He began to cough, interrupting him mid-thought, “we had to…water down the broth to…make it last. Tasteless. But I… miss it. I miss them …” Any further glimpses into Viktor’s past were cut off by another round of coughing, so intense that he whimpered at the end of the bout.

Jayce would have offered to fetch Viktor’s mother if it made him feel better but…with the way Viktor talked, it was more than likely his parents had died years before. It wrenched in his chest.

When Jayce brought Viktor a glass of water, he found Viktor at the end of his strength. He didn’t even open his eyes as Jayce brought the rim to his chapped lips— he’d buy balm for that as well . “What have you done up until now?”

Viktor’s response was incredibly quiet, nearly lost under the rattle of his breathing. “By…myself…” A few hitches in his breath and he settled a little deeper into his pillow.

No family, no close friends…Viktor all alone burning with fever and retching up his lungs…

There was a bloom of indignation in Jayce’s chest and he rested his hand flat on Viktor’s forehead. “I’ll take care of you, V.” He promised, stroking his thumb along Viktor’s hairline. “Just wait a little bit longer.” He tucked the blankets close around Viktor’s body before bolting from the greenhouse.

It was as close to running as he could manage. 

His first stop was to Viktor’s neighbors who—while alarmed by Jayce’s size and intensity—were more than happy to bring a cot and spare bedding to Viktor’s home while Jayce continued on to the apothecary. He supposed Viktor’s skill as a healer was partly to thank for how well stocked the Nautilus apothecary was, though he was unfamiliar with everything but the more expensive Piltover medicine. He was likewise distrustful of the quality of street food this deep in Zaun for someone who was ill. Far better was to spend the coin to send a letter up through the mail, asking someone from the bar to send some essentials down. His leg throbbed in a dull ache by the end of his supply run but he pushed it to the back of his mind as he dragged the supplies back into the greenhouse.

Even though he spent most of his days working with his hands, this was a whole new level of care: boiling water for laundry, setting up his sleeping space, mixing the medicines, and prepping food. Jayce’s leg was trembling from excessive use and sweat was beading on his forehead as he opened more windows but he pushed on. For Viktor’s sake.

While Viktor dozed and the soup simmered, Jayce quietly stepped over to Viktor’s workbench to spy on what he’d been working on recently as well as to admire Viktor’s delicate technical drawings. He was particularly exceptional with his sketches of plant life.

Jayce’s fingers ghosted over the parchment, the tools, the haphazard drawing pencils, and landed on the leather cover of one of Viktor’s notebooks. A private journal or a technical notebook, Jayce’s fingers ran along the edge of the cover in preparation to open it and see more of Viktor’s creations.

He didn’t get the chance.

The soup pot hissed at the same time Viktor stirred fitfully under his covers and Jayce abandoned his snooping as if someone had jolted him with electricity. The soup smelled brothy and looked flavorless but Jayce filled Viktor’s lone bowl— Jayce would get him another one —to its chipped brim before hobbling back over to his bloomer’s bedside.

“Viktor,” Jayce’s heartbeat was in his fingertips as he slid his arms under Viktor’s cocoon and pulled him to a semi-upright position— he was so light, as if he’d slip through Jayce’s hands , “you need to eat.”

Viktor’s eyes were hazy as he looked at Jayce and his face crumpled into something close to devastation. “Jayce? It’s…it’s really…you’re here ?” He was feverish, likely hallucinating but it still broke Jayce’s heart. “You didn’t leave?” 

Jayce set the bowl down so that he could pull Viktor into his arms. His heart was thrumming as he squeezed Viktor close, Viktor’s dark hair tickling the underside of his chin. He was torn between his genuine desire to comfort Viktor and his mind’s desperate attempts to commit every sensation to memory. “It’d take a force of nature to get me out of here.”

Viktor began to cough and Jayce held him a little tighter so that he could pat a soothing rhythm on Viktor’s skinny back. Through the coughs, Jayce did hear: “...don’t…deserve it…”

Who in the hell destroyed Viktor like this? Why did he find himself unworthy of any bit of decency and companionship? Jayce was indignant but he didn’t let Viktor go or let his tone give away any of his anger. “If you don’t then…neither do I. I’m not going to leave you.”

“I…was so…” Jayce felt a hand twist in the fabric of his shirt in a desperate attempt to keep himself steady, “ pleased to see you…Jayce…I shouldn’t have been…so… selfish …I should have,” his shoulders hitched and Jayce’s heart cracked in his chest, “I should have… stayed! ” 

He was delirious, coughing every other word as he babbled in a panic and there was nothing for Jayce to do but hold him until it passed. He’d never been so close to Viktor—to hold him like this, to stroke his thick, wavy hair—but goddamn him he couldn’t even enjoy it, he was so concerned. He rested his cheek on Viktor’s head and sighed. 

“Say the word and I’ll set up shop here. You’ll never be rid of me, V.” He said half-jokingly. The other half of him was already thinking of how he’d bring all of his things down to the fissure.

Something about his assurances and his touch must have soothed Viktor. His breathing stilled and his head lolled weightless and heavy into the hollow of Jayce’s throat. For one, brief moment, Jayce felt as though they were the only two creatures on earth, their breathing synced into the same beat. 

“You ok?”

“I don’t know what’s… real anymore, Jayce.” Viktor moaned, sounding thoroughly miserable.

“Gods, you’re a mess when you’re sick.” Jayce said fondly. “Luckily for you, you’re fascinating even in the delirium of a fever.” To hell with the soup; it would take extreme violence to pull Viktor from his arms. “If it helps, I can tell you about the very real order I put off to come take care of you.” Something technical would ground him, something tricky that would take his mind off of whatever had him spiralling.

“Alright…alright…” And then, the whispered plea, “Don’t let…don’t let go…”

“I’ve got you.” I’d chain myself to your bones if I could . “They want me to fix some sort of device down in the Wharfside that can filet Zaunite fish. Apparently to prevent poisons from leaching in, over the years the fish have developed scales like iron and it takes significant manpower and sharp knives to get them open—”

“Skuldy Rockfish.” Viktor coughed his laugh, “How…nostalgic.”

Jayce continued on, pitching Viktor his idea in the soft lulling tones that his mother used to use in his childhood. A far cry from bedtime stories of magicians, his soft tale was one he and Viktor both loved: technical drawings and moving parts, schematics, mathematics, and engineering. Jayce’s hands moved at the same comforting, steady pace on Viktor’s back until he felt his bloomer’s heartbeat slow back to serenity. 

It was a long night. 

He could scarcely sleep for Viktor’s rattling cough and—when the coughing fits inevitably caused Viktor to seize into waking—Jayce was ready to bring him water or broth, to wipe his mouth when he retched up a horrible mucus-saliva mix, to stroke his hair until he settled enough to try and sleep again. Jayce’s eyes felt dry from the lack of sleep as the fissure took on the lavender tinge of dawn but he was warm and content in the ways that mattered.

Viktor had finally fallen asleep in the warm palm of Jayce’s hand, his cheeks nestled into the cupping fingers. Occasionally Jayce felt safe enough to clear the hair from Viktor’s cheek or pat a comforting beat with his free hand against the blankets that dipped at his waist.

His first night sleeping in Viktor’s home. Things were very serious.

In spite of the lack of sleep and his sore leg and the dry fluid that Viktor had helplessly hacked against his shirt, Jayce was still completely enchanted by his bloomer. It was love . No denying it. 

Even when Viktor was curled up and invalid, Jayce wanted to spend time with him. He found the man heartstopping, even with dried spit on his chin, hair lank, and features gaunt from this illness. In spite of his exhaustion, he looked forward to heating water for Viktor’s bath and preparing him a new batch of broth…these small, unerotic things delighted him beyond measure.

Gods, I love you, Jayce thought. Viktor’s shoulders bunched as Jayce stroked the mole next to his lip and he snuggled deeper into Jayce’s palm. To have this every day? To fall asleep excited for another morning spent together?

Live. In spite of the pain. Live, you bastard . 

“I love you.” He confessed quietly and he meant every syllable. Life with Viktor was fun, full of hope; it made Jayce want to live. He wanted to live . “I love you, Viktor.”

Chapter Text

“How would you feel about skipping work one of these days, Viktor?”

Jayce had come close, silently, while Viktor was inspecting the flowers frothing over Jayce’s window boxes and he laughed as Viktor jolted in surprise. Viktor glared at having been caught off guard and Jayce, unrepentant, placed both hands on the sill so that Viktor’s body was safely bracketed in between. “I have no work to skip. And you seem to have no problem with avoiding work if the opportunity arises to bother me.”

“So you’re free two weeks from today?”

“I am. Where are you taking me this time?” That Viktor would give in to Jayce’s invitation as a foregone conclusion had Jayce seriously debating whether or not to close his arms and sweep Viktor up in an embrace. He felt as though he was glowing with excitement.

“Do you want to come with me to Progress Day?” For inventors, there wasn’t a more romantic outing and Viktor’s eyes went impossibly wide. Jayce was thrumming, his mouth moving faster than his mind could keep up. “It’s the first year that people from Zaun can go without special invitation and I thought you might enjoy seeing what they’re presenting this year,” he had asked Heimerdinger for a favor in order to see the list of presenters just so he could make his pitch to Viktor, “Your friend, Miss Young, is running a presentation on Zaunite environmental infrastructure. Oh, also my friend Caitlyn will be there and my mother too—they’ve been wanting to meet you for ages. And…I want to go with you, Viktor. I haven’t been to a Progress Day celebration since I started at the academy and there’s no one else I’d rather go with. Will you come?”

Viktor opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. Jayce might have been worried if not for the pink tinge of Viktor’s ears. “How could I refuse when you beg me like that?” Jayce beamed and Viktor blinked up at him, “You rehearsed that didn’t you?”

“You think I can’t be charming in the spur of the moment?” Jayce asked, too elated to be offended. “You’ll come?”

“I will.” Viktor agreed even as he nervously curled his fingers in his hair.

Viktor’s first Progress Day and he’d be spending it with Jayce. Jayce knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep for thinking of the exhibits, the food halls, the student presentations, the decor of the city—he’d be introducing Viktor to his mother and Cait. For the first time in years he was actually looking forward to Progress Day.

Just as he suspected, Jayce slept poorly the few nights before the festivities. His dreams featured the Progress Day halls dripping with paint, as if Powder had been hired to decorate, though there was a sinister feeling towards the art that had him unsettled. When he did find a room devoid of paint, he was only able to take a few steps inside before the glass of the windows shattered inwards in a rain of crystal. 

Viktor was there, bathed in violet light, and Jayce felt guilty. He had done this. He had done this to the man he loved.

When he woke, he bled from his nose and his head ached, causing Viktor to frown in concern but Jayce wouldn’t let it damper his plans. “I feel fine, V.”

“What did you dream of?” Viktor sighed as he reached for his back brace.

Jayce thought of the brace in his moments of weakness. A quality thing, clearly made by Viktor, it melded perfectly to the curve of his waist just under his ribs as Viktor cinched it in the front and slid the straps tight over his shoulders. Sometimes Jayce thought about slipping his fingers under the leather as he slid off the straps with his teeth. “I dreamt of you,” he said, trying not to sound as hungry as he felt.

Viktor looked over his shoulder as if he didn’t believe Jayce for a moment. “Isn’t it too early in the morning for this?” He was an expert by now at brushing off Jayce’s flirtations but the flush blooming from his chest up his neck was an indication that Jayce’s attentions weren’t entirely unwelcome.

“I’m completely innocent.” Jayce protested even as he waited to watch Viktor dress before he put on his own clothes. “Here,” he handed Viktor his cane along with a strap of leather he’d matched almost perfectly to Viktor’s brace, “we’ll be walking quite a bit today but if you need, you can use this to sling your cane across your back.” Viktor was clearly touched by the small detail, immediately trying it on across his chest as Jayce dressed himself in the clothes his mother had sent to him on the new year.

He’d asked for cloth with bits of indigo, along with the maroon and white his mother favored, to match the dark blue-violet of Viktor’s, so that they looked like a matching pair. He’d also made himself a strap of the same material for the cane he seldom used but would need during all the walking, and—as a final surprise, knowing how packed some of the popular halls could be—he had also made lightweight stools that folded into a convenient, flat package at his side. 

He felt a nervous buzz under his skin as he held the door to his apartment open for Viktor and felt Viktor’s hand snag his so that they wouldn’t get separated in the crowds.

It seemed as though everyone in Zaun was similarly taking advantage of the new opportunity. 

Most of the shops they passed were closed for the day and a throng of locals, dressed in their eclectic best, drifted down the streets towards the border bridges like schools of tropical fish. Jayce’s heart beat to a fever pitch when he saw the familiar, statuesque form of Caitlyn waiting for them at the Piltover bank. “Sprout!”

She turned, as did her companion—a sharply beautiful woman with long pink streaks in her black hair that Jayce suspected was her lover, Fiora—and reached out her hand for Jayce to take. He pulled her into an embrace the moment he was close enough. “It’s so good to see you, Jayce. And this,” her curiosity won out as she broke the hug early to try and scrutinize Viktor with her good eye, “must be Viktor. I’ve been looking forward to this more than any other festivities since Jayce has been keeping me away from you.” She playfully slapped Jayce's chest before reaching out her hands to Viktor’s face. “He’s ashamed of me.”

“Don’t lie, Cait.” Jayce begged, torn between watching Cait trace the elegant lines of Viktor’s face and being polite enough to introduce himself to Fiora. “She’s the sister I never had and she’s merciless to make up for lost time. So nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” She had the liquid soft accent of highborn Demacia and her gaze speared him as he rested her knuckle just above his lip. “I’ve heard so much about you and dear Viktor.” Her sharp aqua eyes flicked over and Jayce followed her gaze to where Viktor was holding Caitlyn’s hands and grinning wide.

“That sounds like a threat,” Jayce joked back and was rewarded by Fiora’s expression softening. “Shall we?”

Thanks to Jayce’s size and Fiora being the only one who wasn’t physically impaired, they paired off in the front, carving a path for Viktor and Caitlyn to the monorail shuttles that would take them to the exhibit halls. Thank the gods Fiora was the strong, silent type as Jayce wouldn’t have been able to focus on any conversation in favor of eavesdropping on Viktor and Caitlyn.

“Jayce tells me you’re quite the inventor—” “He exaggerates.” “Don’t I know it. It used to be that I could tell exactly what he was thinking just by looking at him. Now I can hear it in his voice.” “He hasn’t exaggerated your skills in perception then. I wonder then, Miss Kiramman—” “Please, call me Caitlyn.”

He was so laser focused on their conversation that he nearly missed their shuttle pulling up. 

Between Piltover, the foreign guests who’d come to see the spectacle, and almost the entire population of Zaun, the sea of humanity was almost unspeakable. It was out of necessity to avoid being jostled that Jayce pulled Viktor close to his chest on the ride over and kept a firm hold on his waist the moment they disembarked in the Pavillion district.

“Gods…it’s…it’s…” Viktor pulled up short as they came to the gilded entrance of the  academy exhibition hall, “just like…” His amber eyes reflected the lights and the metal accents so that his eyes took on a golden sheen. Beautiful . 

“We’re just getting started.” Jayce slipped his hand down to squeeze Viktor’s. “Where should we start, Cait?”

He was a terrible guest.

Barely able to focus on Caitlyn, Fiora, or the exhibitions themselves, Jayce spent most of his time staring at the lovely amazement on Viktor’s face. Aside from the newest bits of engineering, most of the exhibits were of little interest to him. Even Viktor’s friend, Miss Young—who had an auditorium and a rotating timetable of presentations for her environmental engineering projects—could not hold his attention.

Viktor laughed as Caitlyn told egregious lies about Jayce and Jayce was too enchanted to defend himself. He was beyond any attempts at demure subtlety, and Fiora—equally as sharp as Caitlyn—noticed his helpless jealousy as Viktor engaged in lively conversation with one of the young men who’d designed a compact, oscillating grow light for people in Piltover who wanted to grow plants in smaller apartments. Fiora arched one imperious eyebrow as she looked up at Jayce.

“You and he smell of the same soap, Talis. What more do you want?”

I want my mouth on the back of his neck . Jayce wondered how the exhibitor would react if he did such a thing to Viktor in broad daylight. “More,” was all he could manage by way of response and Fiora chuckled in response. 

“Completely hopeless.”

“How could I not be?” He melted a little as Viktor paused the conversation to look for him and smiled when their eyes met. Jayce was too deeply in love for any feeling of embarrassment.

Caitlyn and Fiora broke off from them in the early afternoon for the medley of social gatherings and galas that were hosted by the Piltover elite. Caitlyn would have invited them if only to enjoy the chaos it would incite but Jayce didn’t want to risk running into the councilors who’d sentenced him or any of his former classmates who might have remembered him. It was safer this way .

“Thank the gods Jayce found someone with common sense and a level head.” Caitlyn sighed as Fiora kissed the air above Viktor’s cheeks. “I was worried he’d be left to wreak havoc in your city but it seems you’ve utterly domesticated him.”

“I’m not an alley cat, Sprout.” Jayce sighed before reaching over to ruffle her hair. 

“I have to warn you, Viktor,” Caitlyn’s good eye sparkled with latent wickedness as she leaned to embrace Viktor and began whispering in his ear, the both of them occasionally glancing at Jayce.

“Don’t listen to her!” Jayce demanded though he was laughing as she reached over to hug Jayce next. “You brat, brace yourself for the next time I come back.”

In spite of the fun they’d been having up until that point, there was a bittersweet vacuum as Caitlyn and Fiora finished their farewells and disappeared into the throng. Back to high society, opportunity, progress —his chest ached as he thought of how much pride he’d have on the presentation stage, being the one to show his inventions personally to his mother and Caitlyn and Viktor.

“Your mother is waiting to join us for lunch, yes?” Viktor asked, yanking Jayce from a spiral of overthinking.

“Yeah, let’s…” Even with Viktor’s hand anchoring him to reality, things had taken on a dreamlike quality. That feeling again; he was almost entirely alone and time was flowing unstoppable and unfettered past him. He was only able to push it to his periphery when they saw his mother waiting in the crowd. “Mama!”

In spite of Caitlyn’s endless taunting, it was far more nerve-wracking to introduce Viktor to his mother. Jayce was stumbling over his words as he made the introductions but it soon became clear that he needn’t have worried: his mother’s eyes lit up as she embraced Viktor and surveyed him approvingly.

“Viktor. What a lovely boy.” 

Viktor looked as though he would burst at the seams from delight, his cheeks glowing pink. “Mrs. Talis, I’ve been…so excited to see you.” They adored each other on sight and it was all Jayce could have hoped for. Since Viktor had no living family, Jayce would share his.

Even though his mother was not overly fond of crowds, she was so delighted by Viktor’s company that she stayed with them until late in the afternoon. Jayce was thoroughly ignored throughout the afternoon as Viktor seemed to have a savant-level of understanding in his mother’s favorite topics. They chatted like old friends about art, music, food, and Jayce, with little concern over the fact that Jayce was standing within earshot. 

Much like with Caitlyn, he was in too good of a mood to care. He smiled like a fool as he watched his mother hold onto Viktor and extract a dozen promises that he would come up to New Piltover for dinner within the month. 

“My darling boy,” She was almost breathless with delight as she hugged him—after she’d embraced Viktor, naturally, putting Jayce firmly in second place, “I always knew you’d find a wonderful partner.” Jayce leaned into her touch as she scratched his beard, “I’m so…pleased you’re happy and living a good life with him.” Every three days she’d written to him in Stillwater in attempts to keep his spirits up and it had taken him years to forgive himself for all the worry he’d caused her.

Jayce kissed her cheeks and watched as his mother safely got into her ride home, feeling a sudden rush of calm after having to be sociable the entire day. “Got you all to myself now, V.”

“That sounds remarkably like a threat.”

“Oh it is.” Jayce rested his hand firmly on Viktor’s back. “You’re clearly my mother’s favorite now.”

“She’s wonderful.” Viktor said. “I’d like to see her again soon.”

“I’m sure she’d be happy for another one to join the Talis family,” Jayce said boldly, if only to watch Viktor blush at the proposal. Viktor, part of his family . He was getting ahead of himself but didn’t bother to try and squash the fantasy, instead rubbing his hand up and down Viktor’s spine. “Shall we?”

Though they’d already seen most of the headlining displays, Jayce’s excitement was at a fever pitch as they perused the small venues, simply because he and Viktor were alone together. On a date . He felt full to bursting with joy as Viktor made him smile, made him laugh . 

“You’re in rare form today,” Viktor said with a sweet little smile as they walked up the main allée strung up with gold and white banners. “Does it get the ideas flowing? Being back in your old stomping grounds?”

“The only idea I have is that next year I’m going to have to figure out a way to keep Caitlyn and my mother away. I’ll probably have to fight them both so I can have your company all to myself.”

Viktor scoffed, even as his cheeks went pink. “I’d like to see that. You might have to do a test run now, seeing as we’re about to be interrupted.” Jayce glanced up, already beginning to frown at the thought.

It was Ekko who bolted from the crowd, devoid of the normal chalk, pencil marks, and machinery grease that usually freckled along his face. His clothes too were close to new and spotless, likely a gift from Benzo for the occasion, and his brown eyes blazed with determination.

“Jayce! Viktor!” His color was high as he paused to greet them and allow Benzo to catch his breath. Ekko’s shoulder bag was packed with pamphlets, free gifts, and any number of small curios he and Benzo had purchased over the course of the day but it seemed not to bother him. He was practically shaking with excitement. “Were you able to see the new single hoop vehicle they’re planning to put into production? And the solar charger? And the—”

Viktor fought back a smile as Benzo gulped for air. “Hello Ekko. I see you’ve taken full advantage of the festivities.”

“Making me run all over creation, he has.” Benzo sighed as he righted his glasses. “But mighty impressive show your lot have put on, Talis. I imagine it’ll give Silco some ideas.”

“Ah, they’re here as well?” Viktor asked.

“Silco’s with the boys and Vander’s with Powder. We’ve done a divide and conquer so that we can see as much as possible. We’ll compare notes back in the bar tomorrow afternoon and see—

Perhaps sensing that Benzo could continue at length, Ekko gripped Jayce’s arm in a bid for attention. “Jayce, I could do this. I could make something to present here—I know I’m good enough.” The fire in his expression was something Jayce recognized; he’d seen it in his own face when he was Ekko’s age and had come to the same realization: most of the inventors his age had half his drive and even fewer ideas that could truly shape the future . “I need your help. I want to apply for the next Distinguished Innovators competition. If I win, I’ll be able to present here, right?”

“Yeah,” the little man shared his dream and Jayce felt an overwhelming rush of fondness for him, “An automatic spot in the main pavilion, a public research grant, and a monetary prize. If you win, your inventions are pretty much guaranteed to be funded and put into production.”

“I’m going to get it.” Ekko insisted, “I can convince Powder to partner up with me and then the both of us can register for next year’s competition.” He began to pace and talk with such intensity that Jayce could only stand by and watch, unable to get a word in edgewise.

It was nostalgic to see and his excitement was infectious. 

Viktor watched him with a growing smile and Ekko likely would have been content to talk at them for the rest of the day if Benzo hadn’t stepped in. His expression was suffused with paternal adoration as he patted Ekko on the shoulder.

“We’d best keep moving along if we want to see the rest of the festival before nightfall. I’m sure we’ll see you two around later and the kids can,” with the reminder that the exhibits would be closing in a few hours, Ekko paused his monologue and began to start tugging Benzo back towards the crowd, “get it out of their systems.”

They were all laughing as Benzo and Ekko left in a whirlwind of activity, similar to how they’d arrived.

Viktor’s shoulders were shaking as he covered his mouth with his hand. “We’re going to have to go into hiding. We’ll never get anything done for all they’ll hunt us down and have us check their work.”

“Holed up with you in a confined space for the foreseeable future? A fate worse than death.” Jayce joked as he put his hand on Viktor’s waist. “Should we go eat before things get out of control?”

“Lead the way.” 

The restauranteur’s showcase was close to the waterfront and people had begun to show up in droves for the dinner rush. Normally it would be a hellish ordeal except for Viktor clinging to him like a lifeline, especially as they passed some of the Piltover Home Guard directing traffic. Though the Enforcers and their blue uniforms had been officially retired after their inability or unwillingness to snuff out the Zaunite revolution, many from Zaun—including Viktor—shuddered away from anything resembling them. 

Jayce turned so his partner was completely hidden from their view until they’d purchased their food and found a secluded bench by the canal to eat. A rush of bittersweet nostalgia came over Jayce again as he watched the dirigibles drag their colorful flags through the sky.

“It’s so strange to be on this side of the river ag—after all this time.” Viktor murmured, his eyes turned skyward so that their amber color took on the same ripening color of the sunset. “Looking out over it all from the Academy. You lived nearby, didn’t you?”

He was so sweetly curious, so openly excited to learn more about a part of Jayce’s life that held no joy, and the same depressive feelings he was always tamping down blossomed dark and ugly inside of him.

I might have been one of them. Viktor would have seen me on that stage. I could have…been someone who mattered.

As the music played over the city, Jayce thought back on the presentations, on the academy hopefuls with their trinkets in comparison to what he’d been researching all those years ago. It would have changed the world . The grief hit him in a blow to the chest while his leg was besieged by phantom pain of guilt. Dropping his head into his hands, the tears began to flow with shocking speed as Viktor’s hand rested on the crux where his shoulder met his neck. 

“Jayce?”

“I…I’m sorry.” He could barely get the words out for all that his throat seemed to be closing up on itself and the tears running into his open mouth. “I’m sorry Viktor just—” A sob caught in his throat as he felt Viktor’s slim arms wrap around him and something in him broke.

It was a deluge. Face pressed into Viktor’s shoulder, Jayce held him and wept like a child. Wordless sobbing, he could feel the fabric of Viktor’s clothes being soaked but he couldn’t even get the words out to apologize. All he could do was hold Viktor and weep.

Years and years of built up grief, desolation, guilt, loss poured out onto Viktor’s shoulder as Jayce was stricken with the all-consuming thought of what might have been.

He might have been up on that stage, bathed in golden light. The people of Piltover and Zaun might have known him by name: respected, beloved, lauded for what he could make. I could have made magic . It was possible…it just needed more time. He wanted to scream— Powder was screaming in his ears —but all he could manage was a strangled groan of pain. He felt as though the anguish would never end.

“Jayce,” Viktor’s voice was warm and soothing as he stroked one hand up and down the length of Jayce’s spine, “Jayce. I know. You’re the most… brilliant man I know and…it feels wrong to me that no one can see you as you should be. You deserved to be a symbol of…of progress.” His hands were in Jayce’s hair, petting him down. “You do so much good for everyone around you. For… me . I know .” He’d lived the experience of crushed dreams. Jayce could hear the heartbreak in his voice and he clutched Viktor closer. “Jayce…”

It seemed as though Viktor held him for hours. Occasionally a warm droplet would sink onto Jayce’s hair and scalp but Viktor never ceased his gentle attempts at comfort. 

When Jayce’s hysteria finally tapered away, leaving him with only the slightest tremble in his hands and a distinct feeling of being wrung dry. He nuzzled his face against the wet fabric, getting a final comforting scent of Viktor’s clothes before he pulled back. He wiped at the drying salt tracks on his cheeks before reaching out to do the same for Viktor’s. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Viktor asked, completely deadpan as the fabric at his chest drooped from all the moisture. It startled a hoarse laugh from Jayce.

“We’ll have to wash that when we get home.” Home . Viktor’s embrace felt even better than the safety of his apartment and he was relieved when Viktor didn’t let him go. “I…I don’t know what came over me, V.”

“I’ve wept too, thinking of what my life might have looked like if…any number of things had happened differently. If I had gone into the academy, if I had been born in Piltover, if my…if my body wasn’t in such pain. If I had…only known you sooner—” He made a small noise as Jayce took his turn to hold Viktor, now entirely unwilling to let him go. “I think of…all the timelines I squandered but there’s…nothing to do but move forward.”

They held each other as the sun continued to set and the hanging lights strung between the streetlamps began to glow in response. Jayce nuzzled his cheek into Viktor’s hair as his breathing mellowed and the grief died back down to a manageable tightness in the scar tissue of his leg. 

“How do you feel now?” Viktor asked.

“Better.” Jayce admitted. Better with Viktor held so close. “Resigned. Like you said, there’s no going back. Even if I wanted to.” 

“Y-You want to…go back?” Viktor pulled away so that he could look over Jayce’s expression and concern knotted between his eyebrows. “You’d leave Zaun?” Jayce smiled; he could understand the unspoken fear:

You’d leave me? No, never. 

He would bring Viktor with him if he were ever to entertain such a scenario. Very briefly he thought of what it would be like to be in the academy with Viktor—dressed in their uniforms, spending long nights in a university-sponsored lab, exhausted but excited as they prepared to present for Progress Day rather than attending as guests. Jayce could not imagine Viktor enjoying being center stage but Jayce imagined he could coax the man out for accolades after a few years of trying.

A pretty dream but one that was completely out of reach. He pushed the notions aside and could only hope that a more detailed fantasy would come while he was asleep.

“I can’t go back.” Jayce sighed as he rested his cheek on his good knee. “Not only am I banned from the academy but I’ve been gone too long. I wouldn’t have any peace…” He couldn’t stand to be so far from Viktor.

“The brace, the tattoos,” Viktor murmured in agreement as he ran his fingers along the filigree flowers carved into his leg straps. “They’ll…stare.”

“Worse when they avoid me. Like I don’t exist. It’s even worse since I was in Stillwater,” Jayce sighed; he had a feeling Viktor must have been told about his stint in prison but he knew Viktor wouldn’t pry, “Like the shackles are still on and everyone can see.” He jolted as Viktor touched his wrist and then held Viktor’s hand before he could take it back. “I like Zaun.”

“You like them teasing you to your face?” Viktor raised one eyebrow, “Spoiled Piltie? Lockstep? Pretty boy—”

“Oh, you think I’m pretty?”

Viktor pushed against Jayce with his shoulder and blushed when Jayce didn’t move. “I hear what other people say.”

“Are you jealous?” Jayce knew he was incorrigible but he couldn’t help himself. Not when Viktor was too flustered to deny it and Jayce’s arms remembered the warmth of that slim body. Viktor’s lips were pressed together in something between a frown and a pout and Jayce had a deeply visceral need to lean forward so he could kiss Viktor. All feelings of joking fled at the thought of kissing his bloomer and Jayce reached out to cup Viktor’s face.

“Jayce…”

“I don’t want to go back,” the words spilled from him in a helpless volley, hot on his tongue, “what’s the point if you’re not there? Viktor . More than anything, I just want to spend time with you. I want to be in Zaun because you’re there, Viktor.” His thumb brushed Viktor’s lower lip and he could feel Viktor’s breath coming out in short gasps, “Every day I had to remind myself to live. And now…I don’t need the reminder. All I want is—”

Jayce paused, seeing Viktor looking as though he was fighting himself. His eyes were near brimful with unshed tears, his teeth caught on his bottom lip, and fingertips shaking as he touched Jayce’s wrist. “Jayce, you don’t—” He couldn’t finish the thought and made a noise close to a whimper as he leaned into the touch, “I don’t deserve this.”

He was so frightened . Jayce felt an unbearable rush of love and pressed his forehead to Viktor’s.

“You know it’s not true. There are things I’ve done that…I used to think I should be killed for.” Viktor inhaled sharply and Jayce caught Viktor’s tears with his thumbs. “That I should atone. That I don’t deserve any scrap of joy but…it’s not true. I don’t have much. Not a promising academy future or a decent name. Hell, sometimes I don’t even have full control of my own mind. But, I want to keep sharing all I have with you, if you’ll let me. Viktor…you’re more than worthy of all of it.” Viktor pulled back slightly, his expression oscillating between pain, disbelief, and naked desire. One day Viktor would feel loved and safe enough to tell Jayce what plagued him so terribly, but until then… “I love you, V.”

He couldn’t say anything more. Viktor had let desire take hold over the pain and uncertainty as he closed the distance.

Jayce melted in relief down to his core the moment Viktor’s slim lips touched his. Silken as the petals of his flowers, tasting of dried tears, Viktor’s kiss was close-mouthed and sweet. Jayce could feel the tremors in his lips, the hesitant way Viktor’s palms rested on his chest, and his mouth curved up against Viktor’s. Sweet thing .

When he pulled back slightly, Jayce felt as though Viktor had yanked his lungs from his body. “Jayce…please—”

Whatever he wanted, Jayce would do all in his power to give it to him. 

One hand plunged deep into the thick hair at the base of Viktor’s skull while the other wrapped around Viktor’s back to pull him close. With his mouth half-open to talk, it was so easy for Jayce to slip his tongue past Viktor’s teeth and get a taste of his bloomer. The pleasurable little noise Viktor made in response was positively criminal.

He leaned his full weight against Jayce and Jayce held him as tightly as he dared. Part of him thought of how pleasant it would be to stay locked in this embrace with Viktor for the foreseeable future. 

“Viktor,” he breathed the name with the taste of Viktor still on his mouth. He ran his lips up the bridge of Viktor’s nose, “Viktor,” he kissed each of the moles on Viktor’s face, lingering on the one above his lip. “Whatever you need from me.” His eyebrows, his wettened cheeks, eyelashes brushing Jayce’s bottom lip. “Viktor, I love you.” The silky skin of his eyelids and throat, the curve of his jaw, the smooth expanse of his forehead, Jayce memorized them with his mouth. “Viktor.”

“Jayce,” Viktor only needed to say Jayce’s name once. His affection was palpable as he wrapped both arms around Jayce’s shoulders and leaned back in. A quick learner, this time his lovely, clever mouth was open.

Chapter Text

Jayce would never underestimate Viktor’s gift of prescience again as he heard knocking on his front door for the sixth time that week. He was bleary-eyed as he looked up to find that the morning bells had not yet rung—hell, it looked like it was barely past sunrise—and he cursed under his breath at being woken up on his day off after he and Viktor had stayed up far too late the previous night filling up Jayce’s chalkboard. Small blessings, when Jayce glanced over, Viktor was still asleep, though he’d burrowed deep into the covers. In spite of feeling so exhausted that he could weep, Jayce leaned forward to kiss the exposed bit of Viktor’s forehead.

The skin was like warm silk, pressed close to the body. He wanted to let the kiss linger until there were permanent grooves left from the imprint of his lips. Viktor…

He was considering kissing Viktor’s eyelids when their guest knocked again and Viktor’s brow furrowed. Jayce sighed and swung his legs over the cot, uncaring that his chest was bare as he padded over to the front door. The girl outside—Eve, Jayce remembered her as one of Ekko’s friends—didn’t seem at all shocked at Jayce’s appearance or ashamed by the early hour. She stared him down with her feet planted firmly apart as if she wouldn’t be leaving until she got what she wanted. 

“Talis. I need your help.”

“An emergency, Eve?” She seemed surprised by the question and Jayce gestured to the pale yellow color of the eastern sky, “Couldn’t have waited until after breakfast?”

“No.” She squared her shoulders and Jayce pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Fine. Make it quick.”

To her credit, she did and he was able to trudge back to bed only a few minutes after Eve had first arrived. He’d settled back into his cot when Viktor’s slender fingers reached out from under the blankets and touched Jayce’s knuckles. Jayce opened his palm to lace Viktor’s hand in his. “Who was it?”

“Another local kid who wants us to mentor them for next year’s Distinguished Innovator’s Competition. At this rate we’ll be mentoring half the kids in Zaun.” Those participants below the age of 25 were allowed up to two advisors to proofread their work and make suggestions and, with Jayce’s formal education and Viktor’s excellent rapport, they’d been very popular with the competition hopefuls in the months following Progress Day.

Viktor sighed a laugh. “You said yes?”

“Of course I did. They’re all so…earnest. At least I convinced her to come back for guidance sometime after lunch.” 

The blankets shifted as Viktor laughed again. “Everyone in Zaun knows you’re weak to anyone with a passing interest in inventing. And that…you’re brilliant.” The sleepy compliment had Jayce’s lower half waking up even as his mind was falling back asleep.

“I’m in good company.”

“I’m cold.” Viktor ignored the compliment and Jayce could tell he was curling up tighter on his own body. “Jayce, will you…come closer?” It was something he’d been inviting more often since Jayce’s bed was big enough for two bodies and it allowed them to lie parallel to each other and continue their conversations. 

Jayce was not too tired to respond and rolled so that he was next to Viktor on the mattress. With the cooler weather, Viktor suffered from how slender he was and Jayce suffered from…memories. Freezing and terrified in the snow fields, numb and listless in Stillwater … he hated the cold so much that it set his teeth on edge .

This time Viktor wasn’t content to stay at an arm’s reach. Without moving from under the blankets, Viktor shifted his cocoon so that he was almost pressed flush to Jayce’s chest. Jayce breathed a sigh of relief and wound his arms around the bundle of blankets before falling back to sleep with his cheek resting on Viktor’s hair.

There were no nightmares this time.

When he woke up at a more reasonable hour, Viktor was still curled up against him, having suctioned Jayce’s body heat into his covers. Jayce couldn’t help himself; he nuzzled his nose into Viktor’s soft hair and took short, greedy breaths of the smell of flowers, Jayce’s shampoo, and clean pillowcases. His face was halfway to Viktor’s scalp before Viktor began to stir into the base of Jayce’s throat.

“How many kids do we have now?” Viktor mumbled and then made a small noise as Jayce scratched his scalp. 

“With Eve, that makes six.” Jayce said as he nuzzled his lips against Viktor’s forehead. “But…surprisingly no word from Powder. I was sure that she and Ekko would partner up for their project but I haven’t heard about her participating.” It bothered him, especially when he knew how good she was with creative engineering.

“If any of them win, we’ll be even more popular. And with Heimerdinger as your mentor—”

“How’d you guess?” Jayce laughed at Viktor’s incredible intuition. Perhaps it was the informal way he talked about Heimerdinger. “And these kids are going to be the ones to put me out of work once they get funding and time to improve the community. I should start thinking of other forms of employment early.”

He was ruled by his obsessions—with magic, with inventing, with Viktor—and, in spite of his joking, it had been devastating to discard his love of magic even though it had been so thoroughly embittered in his heart. It would hurt to lose the work that kept him sane.

“Such a pessimist. The people here won’t abandon you like that.” Viktor was finally awake enough to emerge from his blanket and look up at Jayce with sleepy fondness. “But, worst case scenario, I think—I’ve always thought that you’d make an admirable teacher and mentor for the young people who are interested in inventing. You could always do that.”

Jayce smiled at the idea.

Living vicariously through the teenagers of Zaun, keeping his skills fresh when presented with their youthful innovations, he also liked the idea of becoming someone whose legacy was in the pursuit of science, engineering, and education. Far better than being known as the hitch-step Piltie who’d devoted his life and skills to atonement.

This sounded like…hope. Like progress. It sounded like a beautiful life, rather than a resigned survival. With Viktor; all of it would be useless without Viktor.  

“Are you sure you don’t want me to just stay home while you get up to your elbows in dirt?” Jayce found Viktor’s hand and kissed each of his fingertips. “Make you soup, clean the greenhouse, snoop through your belongings.” Viktor glared and Jayce grinned at him. “Calibrate your brace, massage your leg…kiss you.”

“Quiet domesticity wouldn’t suit you, Jayce.” Viktor said before craning his neck up so he could kiss Jayce on the mouth, once…twice…his tongue toying with the seam of Jayce’s lips until Jayce opened his mouth. Jayce was about to push his hands beneath the blankets when Viktor pulled back. “I…am hungry now though.”

“You’re shameless.” Jayce laughed, utterly charmed as he obeyed without argument. Even though he was more than halfway hard.

Someday . It was a slow, sweet climb with Viktor and, for the first time in ages, Jayce was happy for his limp as it hid the awkward way he had to walk to hide his arousal.

He stole glances back at Viktor while heating up the skillet. His partner, wearing the same old shirt Jayce had lent him the first time he’d stayed over . Viktor touched the withered stems he’d tied off in Jayce’s window planters and smiled softly. It was a view he would never get tired of, even with decades before them. 

There was only one bit of his life that he still wanted to share with the person he loved. It would be difficult—so fucking difficult—but he had faith Viktor would understand. The scar tissue on his calf was liquid and warm and he patted his tattoo, his thumb tracing the pink curves of Vi’s painted hair. 

“Just give me a little bit longer, Vi.” He murmured as he watched Viktor curling his hair around his fingers. “A little longer to…shore up my heart and then I’ll tell him all about you.” It was terrifying but he’d made that promise to live. In spite of the pain. Live, you bastard . For her.

It took him longer than expected to steel his heart and help his half dozen little mentees who hounded him with such persistence that Jayce began to suspect Viktor was hiding or actively giving Jayce’s location away so that he could garden in peace. Foxy little thing . Jayce was charmed in spite of himself and took up the role of a teacher with minimal complaint. 

His sleeping mind was less forgiving. The hard work had him falling asleep the moment his ass was seated but his dreams threw him into utter turmoil.

He dreamt of Vi wielding a hammer that sparked blue lightning and blood splattered around him in a rainstorm of crimson. They were killing people. They had to. The bones cracked hard against the concrete floors. Colored gas choked him until he couldn’t breathe, until Piltover was shattered and screaming. 

He was back in his apartment, walking to the open, yawning chasm that had been punched in the external wall and when he looked down, it was endless black. Those were the worst of the nightmares. Trudging to the edge, unable to stop himself in spite of how he screamed—screamed like Powder when he killed her sister—on an endless loop until he jumped.

The ones that had him waking with screams and headaches and bloody noses were when the loop deviated. When he could run , and he ran up an unfamiliar set of stairs to find Viktor standing on the precipice about to leap. 

Not Viktor. No. If he jumped…Jayce would follow him down.

His relief was nauseating when he woke in Viktor’s arms with slim hands rubbing his back. Surely it was the guilt weighing on him and he decided to bite the bullet, if only to alleviate the persistent look of concern that had been affecting Viktor whenever Jayce had startled him awake.

It still took him ages to muster his nerve until he felt confident that Viktor wouldn’t despise him for what he’d done. 

Their moods improved the moment the weather became a little warm and Jayce felt…safe enough, comfortable enough to broach the subject as Viktor checked on the soil and air quality in his childhood neighborhood. It was an old neighborhood, with the rickety buildings tracing the curves of a canal that cut deep into the earth and had a distinct sulphuric smell that lingered from the mines. 

“It used to be worse,” Viktor mused as he scooped the dirt with a broken spoon. “Breathing was the same as trying to inhale flames. So many people down here developed a chronic because they constantly breathed all the chemicals. I only avoided it because I slept out by the Piltover bridges so often.”

“Always surprising me.” Jayce laughed. “Why sleep out there?”

Viktor shot him a wry grin, “You’re not listening—”

“I was distracted by your face.”

“The air is softer,” Viktor explained, “And I…liked to look at the lights of the city and imagined what spoiled kids like you were doing. Playing with gold-plated toys and eating grilled petal crab at every meal.” 

“One might wonder why I’d ever leave.” His heartbeat was in his throat as it seemed like a natural segue and—as if she was sending him a sign from the afterlife—they passed by a mural of Vi holding aloft a flare that billowed smoke the same jubilant color as her hair onto the revolutionaries of Zaun. Jayce had never known her but he felt a rush of brotherly fondness all the same. Alright Vi, I’ll take the opening . “Viktor, can we…take a moment?”

“Of course,” Viktor nodded and gave an empathetic glance to Jayce’s leg. “There’s a glade up ahead where we can sit.”

The place was only a short walk away, a Zaunite attempt at fostering greenery in the form of twisted black tree with yellow-green leaves, the lines of it nearly chaotic for how it curved and spiraled around itself. “It’s always astonishing to me,” Jayce remarked as they sat on the exposed roots growing out awkwardly into a patch of sunlight, “that these trees are able to grow so well this deep down in Zaun.”

Viktor patted the bark and stared fondly at the tree, “Every part is poisonous. The bark, the leaves, the fruit—they leach the chemicals from the soil. But if you boil the bark, it can actually be used as an anticoagulant.” Jayce smiled, calming down as he listened to Viktor go on at length about the medicinal values of the toxins in the tree. He was so charming when he talked so passionately about botany . Jayce would have to buy more books on medicine and plants; he wanted to bring out this excitement for the rest of their lives.

He had let Viktor rest his legs across his lap and was errantly massaging at the slim calf muscles under the brace when Viktor finished his exposition. Jayce rubbed his thumb around the carvings he’d done and took a deep breath. “Did you ever hear—did I ever tell you why I left Piltover?”

The air seemed to go still as he waited for Viktor’s response. “I…there are rumors of course but…Jayce you don’t have to—”

“I do .” Jayce insisted. “Everything I am now is because of that day.” He hadn’t ever fully recounted the events of that terrible day, much less his illegal experimentation but…he loved Viktor. Viktor would understand. “V, you would have loved what I was inventing; I was going to create magic from science and it would have changed everything. Inexpensive power, spatial acceleration, enhancements for machinery in so many sectors, the possibilities were endless but—”

“But that kind of resource would be considered contraband.” Viktor murmured, understanding immediately.

“I bought it down here in Zaun. In Benzo’s shop, actually. Never told a soul that.” He had played ignorant, not wanting to hurt anyone else from the undercity even though it would have lightened his sentence.

“I had a feeling he was dealing under the table,” Viktor huffed a laugh. “Mystery solved.”

“It exploded,” Jayce tried to keep his voice even and heart steady but he felt his begin to race and the words came faster as he recounted that terrible day. The explosion, Caitlyn’s eyes, his leg, Powder, “I killed Violet. The symbol of Zaun. My arrogance and negligence killed her,” it was hollow comfort in his prison cell to hear that her likeness had become the banner of revolution, that the prominent enforcers called to the scene were so disturbed by seeing her body that they refused orders from the Council. Jayce put his head in his hands as he felt the void bubbling up to meet him. “I wanted to die. I… deserved to die. Sometimes I…” It was an ugly thing to admit but he forced himself, “I still want to. I lost all reason to carry on but even worse is what I took from Vander and Silco and the kids. I wanted to…make Piltover better and instead I destroyed a family.”

“Jayce. Jayce, it was an accident . You’ve been punished enough.” Viktor insisted as he cupped Jayce’s wrist. “You couldn’t have known that those h—”

“It wasn’t enough—prison, the loss of my future. My punishment is living .” Jayce admitted as he dropped one hand to rest directly on top of his tattoo. “I wanted to die so…so badly. But my penance is to power through what I want and to live since Violet didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

“Jayce.” Viktor cupped Jayce’s chin and turned his head manually until Jayce looked up at his pretty face. “You couldn’t have known. You had no choice in what—”

“There’s always a choice,” Jayce leaned his lips over to kiss Viktor’s palm as Viktor’s eyebrows lifted up in a heartbreaking expression, “And I chose wrong. I was selfishly thinking of power and progress and I…never gave a passing thought to how dangerous it was.” Now was the most frightening part. Jayce kept his eyes on Viktor’s face, “As much as I feel that all I deserve is atonement, being with you makes me want to live, V. I want to give you the choice. So I’m spilling all my dirty secrets,” a felon, a murderer, a man with no hope of fame and fortune, unworthy of someone like Viktor , “and if it affects your…feelings for me then I u-understand.”

It’s all bravado, Vi , Jayce thought as he rubbed the fabric over his tattoo, if this ruins everything, if he can’t love me…forgive me but I don’t think I can go on…

Viktor looked as though Jayce had blown a hole in his chest.

His expression crumpled and his lips trembled as he leaned closer and kissed Jayce gently on the mouth. Jayce held very still, letting the relief flood into him as Viktor began layering kisses up and down his face. “You think…you’re the only one w-who feels more alive when we’re together?” Jayce grinned so widely that his cheeks hurt and allowed Viktor to continue kissing him under the poisoned boughs of the tree. 

“What a relief.” Jayce murmured as he pressed his face against Viktor’s elegant throat, “I suppose…I’ve already caused so much pain to people in Zaun. I didn’t want you to suffer because I’ve been in Stillwater…I can take derision—I deserve it. But I don’t want anyone doing the same to you.”

Viktor was silent for a long moment as he ran his fingers through Jayce’s shaggy hair. “I’d like to show you something too…if that’s alright.”

Whatever Viktor wanted to show him was in a place that only locals who’d grown up in the undercity would have known about. So far off the beaten path that it would have been considered wilderness by Zaunite standards, there was wild vegetation, a stream that had a residual oily-rainbow film on the surface, and the scattered remnants of generations of children playing amongst the loose rocks.

“Bit of a thrill-seeker in your youth, eh?” Jayce nearly stumbled as he was distracted by faded art of Vi that had been painted directly onto the face of a boulder. “This path is…rustic.”

“Like all children, I had no concept of danger.”  Viktor laughed, “If it’s any consolation, in a few minutes we’re not going to be able to see.”

“Wonderful,” Jayce sighed, unsure of what Viktor meant until they traced the riverbank to the entrance of some kind of cavern. “V, are you serious?”

“I’ll protect you,” Viktor responded, deadpan, and what could Jayce do but believe in him?

He followed Viktor into the dark mouth of the cave, worrying that he might stumble or lose his bloomer in the lightess caverns until Viktor made a low whistle. The small blue-white mushrooms that grew along the wall responded to the noise and emitted a faint glow that lit the path enough so that neither of them would stumble. 

“Amazing,” Jayce murmured and smiled as the mushrooms responded to the sound of his voice.

“The plant life in Zaun does strange things, no?” Viktor held out his hand for Jayce to take and Jayce squeezed it. “They’re a mycological relation of the Shimmergills—the Astral Glowcaps—and somehow they’ve mutated to react to noise. Further experimentation shows that they have a dye effect and could be used as a type of neon paint,” they glowed in time with his voice as he explained some of the uses he’d found for them and Jayce felt his smile grow fonder as he basked in the onslaught of facts.

“How’d you even find this place?” Viktor hadn’t been lying about his youthful fearlessness: the caves, even under the low light, were intimidating to traverse.

“I was…shown the way.”

Jayce didn’t get a chance to follow up on Viktor’s cryptic response as he noticed the stone walls widening and the light beginning to catch on strange angles in the darkness. He held his breath in trepidation as Viktor fiddled with something on the wall and let the room glow in muted green. 

It took Jayce’s eyes a moment to adjust to the new light and comprehend what he was seeing.

It was the remnants of a lab—biological or chemical, would be his guess based on the blackened test tubes, half-melted pipettes, and cracked jars that had likely once contained preserved specimens—and it was readily evident that a terrible fire had broken out. The air was still thick with the scent of old soot and sharp metal; in a confined hollow like this, with only one outlet, the fire must have burned unfettered for days. Jayce was careful as he picked his way through the debris and slowly brushed his fingers over the charred remnants on a metal trestle table. He only stuttered, his heart in his throat when he came to the centerpiece of the laboratory.

It had once been a large holding tank, big enough to fit three grown men, before the extreme heat had cracked the glass. In the bottom was a cluster of large bones that had been bleached white from fire and age. Though the skull and size of the skeleton indicated that the former inhabitant was an animal, there was another set of bones just outside the tank and these were human. 

Jayce stared at them before turning back to Viktor. His bloomer was seated on the spindly remnants of a rolling chair and stared at his palms.

“You knew the owner of this lab?” Jayce asked carefully. 

He knew that Viktor’s parents had died in his teenage years but he’d heard no further details. Hopefully this wasn’t their tomb… But an even more horrifying conclusion occurred to him as he caught Viktor’s expression in the low light. He’d suspected for ages now that someone had nearly destroyed Viktor—broken his heart or put the fear of the gods into him . Jayce couldn’t help but wonder if the skeletal remains and the pain were all that was left.

“He was my mentor in my childhood,” Viktor admitted. “A brilliant scientist, a believer in progress at all cost, and single-minded…even when the result was great and terrible beyond measure. I thought he could…cure everything about me but it was a beautiful lie.”

“Did he hurt you, Viktor?” Jayce felt as though he’d hyperventilate, depending on the answer. If this former mentor had put his violent hands on Viktor, then Jayce would grind the bones until they were lost amongst the ashes of the lab. 

“He didn’t. But I let him die, regardless. It was better this way.”

“You couldn’t save him when the fire broke out?” Jayce offered, conjuring the image of his dear, slender Viktor encountering flames strong enough to break glass and melt metal.

“I didn’t even try.” Viktor admitted. When he looked up at Jayce, he was clearly far away, in his memories with a carefully blank expression. “He was just like me, a mirror of me. I looked at him and this time I saw what I would become if I continued with my inventions: a loathsome figure, better off dead.”

Jayce listened, too engrossed to notice as his leg began to ache from supporting his weight for so long. Viktor told him of the chemicals his mentor had been brewing in hopes of bringing a dead child back to life, about how such chemicals would have destroyed Zaun in unimaginable ways. So Viktor had let it all burn, and his mentor had been unlucky enough to be inside, unable to escape.

“You should never feel as if you’re…inadequate next to me. My sins were not accidents.”

Jayce felt his entire body clench tight. In spite of the horror of the gruesome death, the sorrow he felt in response to Viktor’s, the righteous anger over what the world had put his bloomer through, the dominating emotion was passion. 

They were alike in every way. It was as if the universe had seen Jayce’s soul and had him fall, from first sight, for a man who was a perfect partner for him. Their intellect, their legs, their humor, and now… This was how he responded to the confession of Vi’s death: by trusting Jayce with his own pain.

Jayce didn’t care if Viktor bore the blame for his mentor’s death. Jayce wanted to kiss him . The swelling feeling of love was almost painful. 

“V…”

“I used to think that the most terrifying thing in the world was…dying when there were still so many things I wanted to do. But now,” Viktor squeezed his hands until his knuckles began to turn even whiter, “there’s a fear of losing everything, stripped of humanity, completely alone. I’m afraid that…all the good I’ve tried to do will be remembered as something detestable. Every choice…seems to hurt.”

Jayce walked back over, the skeletons forgotten in favor of kneeling in front of his lover. Uncaring of the soot that stained his pants and the sharp pain in his leg, he took Viktor’s hands and kissed both of his palms.

“I’m with you now, V. There’s nothing…you could do that would make me hate you. And I won’t ever leave you alone.”

Viktor’s fingers clenched in Jayce’s hands and made a noise of such deep, visceral pain that Jayce nearly teared up. Viktor bent double so his face was resting on the top of Jayce’s head and Jayce felt Viktor’s expression crumple. 

“How can you promise that?” There were burgeoning tears in his throat, thick on his tongue. “Jayce…why…why didn’t come sooner? Why did you make me wait…for so long? I could have done…so much with you on my side.”

“You know how stubborn I am.” Jayce made a half-hearted attempt to lighten the mood before lapsing back to sincerity. “I won’t leave you. All I want from life is to be with you—if you disappear, I’ll go search for you. I’d have to be dragged away but, if I did, then I’d fight to come back. Viktor ,” Jayce was able to cup both of Viktor’s hands in one of his, reaching the other up to cup his cheek, “I’m sorry I made you wait for so long but…I won’t leave again. I promised you.”

Viktor searched Jayce’s expression before he leaned forward to rest his head against Jayce’s. “I won’t doubt you this time. Jayce.”

There was some measure of relief in the touch. As if being absolved, the strange and ominous feeling of the burnt out lab seemed to melt away. I’m going to live, Vi. I won’t take a goddamn second with him for granted . He hoped it could put her spirit at ease. He hoped Viktor’s mentor would understand as well.

It seemed such a waste to interrupt the tenderness of the moment but Jayce felt his leg ache. “Any other confessions for the afternoon?”

“I think that’s enough trauma to last us quite some time.” Viktor sighed and then jolted as he noticed the tremors in Jayce’s muscles. “Oh, your leg! We’ll have to find somewhere to sit before we walk back.” 

Jayce grinned fondly down at his bloomer. One day they’d have had enough time to bare every bit of themselves, but until then…they’d build back up to joy. Jayce cupped Viktor’s head and kissed up and down his temple. “Should I sit on your lap?”

“You’ll crush me.” Viktor laughed.

“I’d never; I adore you too much for that.” He squeezed Viktor’s waist and caught the tail-end of Viktor’s honeyed glare, “Ah fine, you’ve called my bluff: you can sit on my lap.”

“You drive me to insanity.” Viktor sighed. His blush was palpable, a heated, throbbing thing even as Viktor turned off the lights to the lab. “Hold on.” Clinging to each other, the two of them walked out of the darkness and back into the crisp light of the afternoon. 

Jayce traced the lines on Viktor’s palm before flipping his hand over to follow the tattoo ink next. Part of him hoped that their flesh and bone would meld together so that he could be closer to Viktor, close enough to feel his heartbeat under the skin. In spite of how late it was, Jayce was still in a minor state of giddiness.

It was the guilt that he had let go of. Before, it had been so large as it loomed in his periphery but now it felt small enough to cup in his hands. 

He’d been surviving to satiate his regret; now, he could, with utter conviction, admit that he wanted to live. For Vi. For Viktor .

“ Jayce . You look like you’re contemplating putting my hand in your mouth.”

“How could you tell?” Jayce laughed.

“Your smiles give you away. I can tell them apart and you look up to no good, in spite of the hour.” Viktor’s mouth was also struggling to keep from breaking into a smile.

Jayce faked a pout. “I’d argue this is the perfect hour to be up to no good.”

He jolted as Viktor reached out his free hand to Jayce’s mouth and stroked it. Jayce held his breath as Viktor’s tone took on a distinct element of shyness. “I didn’t say I…wanted you to stop. I like your smile.” Jayce saw his thrumming excitement sitting at a low simmer in Viktor’s gaze and his heart nearly stopped.

He reached Viktor’s hand up to his mouth, running his lips along the bony curves of knuckle and letting his tongue get one quick taste of the pinkie finger. “Mmm…tastes like soil.”

“Gods, I hope not. I’ll have to make you a diuretic so that the poisons won’t effect your kidneys and liver. I’d have to get dried Czat leaves and a—” Jayce couldn’t help but laugh, interrupting Viktor mid-thought.

“I’m sorry V, but it’s just amazing to me how I can love you even more when you’re talking about mixing diuretics.”

“You love me?” Viktor asked, his fingers squeezing into Jayce’s. “Y-You mean it?”

“Of course I mean it. Hell, I’ve probably meant it since the moment I saw you in front of Benzo’s shop. V,” Jayce suckled lightly on the thin skin of Viktor’s wrist so that he could feel Viktor’s skipping pulse, “I love you.”

Viktor tugged Jayce’s hand over so that he too could kiss up and down Jayce’s hands. Jayce watched him with his mouth half-agape until Viktor looked up at him. Every emotion was stark on his lovely face. There was no need to return his  profession of love aloud; Viktor’s feelings were stark in his expression and Jayce made the split-second decision to toe the line of the unspoken boundary they’d set in their respective beds.

“Is it too much to ask…that I lie next to you?” Jayce asked, hardly able to hear his own voice over the sound of his heartbeat. “I want to be closer to you Viktor.” The close proximity would either calm him down enough to sleep or keep him excited and awake until dawn.

Viktor stared at him, giving nothing away, before he lifted the covers. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to ask.”

Jayce did not need a second invitation. He was out of the cot in record speed, settling his body as close to Viktor’s as he dared. The weight of his body dipped the mattress and Viktor slid a little closer so that Jayce could feel the soft warmth coming off of his skin. “I thought about asking the first night you stayed over but…I had to do some more research, run some control tests on you before I asked. Didn’t want to startle you.”

Viktor pursed his lips. “Observing me, mmm? And what are the results of your studies?”

Jayce was delighted to play along and cleared some of Viktor’s hair from his face once he’d settled in. “You play with the tips of your hair when you’re anxious or confronted with a problem; I catch you doing it when formulas are giving you problems.” It was a good start and Jayce caught Viktor’s eyes narrowing in the dark. “When you’re excited you forget to not put your weight on your bad leg and I can tell it pisses you off when you do remember. You’re weak to me saying ‘please’; I’ve found if I want something I just have to beg you in earnest and you give in without much of a fight.” It was a thesis of all the little habits Jayce had come to love about Viktor and Viktor blushed accordingly. “But I’m no better. I think you know that if you say my name the way you do— Jayce ,” Viktor hissed in embarrassment as Jayce did his best impersonation of Viktor’s accent, “then I’ll do pretty much anything you ask. I’m weak to it.”

“You’re unbelievable.” Viktor sighed, his tone half complimentary, half teasing. “I wonder if you’ll feel the same once you’ve discovered all of my secrets.”

Gods, he was so quick to dismiss himself. “Everything I discover about you is fascinating because once I discover one thing, a dozen more mysteries pop up.” Feeling incredibly brave now that he was speaking honestly, Jayce let his fingers drag down Viktor’s temple, over his cheekbones, tracing the curve of his chin. “Like the mysterious inventions you write about in your notebooks and won’t show me.” 

He couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret as Viktor stiffened and frowned. “That’s…I…” He didn’t want Viktor to hurt but…he’d bring up these things so that Viktor would know Jayce loved him in spite of the darkness.

“I think…something hurt you and that it still lingers.” Jayce leaned forward—his lips on Viktor’s forehead, his hand on Viktor’s nape—as Viktor made a helpless noise of pain. “That’s why you hide away in the fissure, hide your brilliance.” That’s why there are walls around your heart. Each snarl of secrets that he unraveled was in the ultimate goal of having Viktor trust him with this final piece of the puzzle but he wouldn’t push him any further now…not when he’d been invited to share Viktor’s bed. “Right now, the thing I want to know most is…you’ve kissed me, we’ve h-held hands, and now we’re sharing a bed,” in spite of his brief stutter, his voice became thick and sticky with the promise of entwined limbs and heated sheets—a bedroom tone, “do you want…more?”

Months had passed since Viktor had first kissed him and they’d become familiar with the tastes of each other’s mouths but they’d gone no further than Jayce holding Viktor tight around the waist and back. He was so delicate.

Jayce pulled back slightly, a silent promise that he would accept any answer Viktor gave without a fight. 

Jayce would have been content to watch Viktor for the remainder of the night, simply committing his lovely face to memory when he was so close and unguarded. Viktor seemed to be doing the same. Jayce was fascinated by the way Viktor’s collarbones pressed against his skin as he breathed and noticed when Viktor’s pulse picked up in the column of his throat.

“Yes,” his voice was so quiet but Jayce was paying such close attention that he caught it, “I…want more.”

Jayce shifted closer and the mattress dipped so that Viktor slid down against his chest. He felt as though his body would tear apart at the seams and kept his movements slow and deliberate as he wrapped his arms around Viktor’s waist. Gods save him, Viktor’s entire body was trembling in his arms and Jayce felt his own hands shaking as he saw Viktor looking up with those wide, luminous eyes. How could he not kiss him? 

He moved slowly, giving Viktor plenty of time to stop if he needed, as he rolled himself on top of Viktor’s delicate body and kept all his weight on his elbows. Unable to help himself, Jayce ground their hips together so that he could feel the heat rising from between Viktor’s legs.

“V…am I…dreaming?” 

 There was the soft bite of fingernails digging into his bicep before Viktor’s gentle fingers slid up Jayce’s arms, over his shoulders, and into his hair, pulling him down closer. Jayce obeyed, nearly panting as Viktor’s legs spread wide around his hips. “Not a dream,” Viktor’s mouth was open and shaking as Jayce pressed down to kiss him and Jayce’s hands were in Viktor’s hair. 

He tasted so good, he felt so good, with those hips bucking up and his legs curling around Jayce’s.  

As Viktor pulled him down so that their bodies were nearly flush, Jayce yanked the covers up over their heads. He’d had endless thoughts of what Viktor’s lovely face would look like when Jayce sucked on his bare skin and he wanted the view all to himself. He couldn’t even bear to share the view with the night sky. 

Viktor…Viktor …his skin buzzed with the need to be closer, ever closer, and his palms began the slow slide up the back of Viktor’s shirt.

Chapter Text

The clothes, inexplicably, managed to stay on in spite of how their hands flexed under the fabric. Jayce felt Viktor whispering his name into his skin until Jayce’s blood seemed to sing with the vibrating feeling of Viktor’s accent. His mouth was hot and hungry when it crushed against Jayce’s and Jayce was left to wonder how long this liquid heat had been building in Viktor’s slim body.

“Jayce, Jayce!” Viktor moaned, “M-my hips—”

Jayce understood as his leg was shaking from keeping his weight off of Viktor. He shifted his pillows around so they held Viktor’s hips and knee at an incline, allowing his own knees a break. With one hand free, Jayce let his fingers play around the waistband of Viktor’s underwear.

“Viktor,” Jayce trembled. 

He was overwhelmed now that he could touch Viktor at his leisure. All the little spots he’d dreamt of mapping—the knobs of his spine, which seemed to fit the shape of his fingers perfectly, the sharp crest of the hipbones, the length of the soft inner part of his arm—were now within his grasp and he could have wept for it.

The taste of his skin was sweet, flowery; Jayce licked and suckled at every soft bit of him until Viktor’s skin had a slick sheen and Jayce’s lips were feeling a little numb. Viktor’s hands were under his shirt in a futile attempt to remove it and his hips bucked up in an attempt to find friction. Jayce could feel a wet spot growing at the crux and his mouth went dry.

“Should I take these off?” Jayce asked, palming at the heated bulge between Viktor’s legs. It grew a little wetter under the motion of his thumb. He wanted to drink down whatever nectar his bloomer would give him. 

“Never mind that,” Viktor huffed impatiently. The heat of his breath had sweat beading on Jayce’s temples and Jayce was too enchanted by the red-coal light in Viktor’s eyes to notice that hands were fumbling at his underwear. “Do it like this.”

Jayce strangled back a cry as Viktor’s hand ducked below his underwear and gently pulled his cock out. 

“I-Impatient—” Jayce groaned.

Viktor kissed Jayce’s open mouth, biting at his bottom lip. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting? Y-You’d keep me—”

“My apologies,” They had the rest of their lives for leisurely exploration. This was years of desire that had bubbled past the boiling point and allowed for nothing more than this heat-slickened rutting.

Sweat dripped off of Viktor’s trembling upper lip and he made the sweetest noises as Jayce bunched his wet underwear to the side. Jayce’s eyes greedily took in all the details he could manage in a split second— the dark hair there was damp and curling against the sensitive skin, he had to be as long as Jayce but it was slimmer and pink and— before pushing himself up and in, past the hem.

They were a flurry of hands pumping and clothes close to ripping at the seams.

Jayce could hold the both of them in one of his hands, the other rubbing Viktor’s nipples through the grain of his shirt, pushing a thumb along his tongue, stroking up and down his legs. Viktor’s clever fingers were in his underwear, toying with the sticky tips, while his other hand gripped Jayce for dear life. They had both been tempering their breaths and holding back sounds of pleasure until Jayce felt a bit of his shirt rip.

Their throats unstuck in tandem. “ Viktor … Viktor! ” “ Jayce —I’m sorry I—” “To hell with that! Viktor…it’s so good…so…” Jayce kissed him and then desperately licked the salt off of Viktor’s throat so that he could feel Viktor’s cries in his teeth. “J-Jayce! I can’t… breathe —”

Underneath the blankets, their bodies had become overheated and slick as the warmth from their skin and breath created a climate akin to a sauna. The one time Jayce lifted the covers to let in some cool air, Viktor moaned so sweetly at the sensation that Jayce nearly came. The cold prickled his skin, soothed his throat, and he gave a full body shudder. 

Viktor lolled, his slim chest rising in a desperate bid for cool air. It would sacrilege not to look.

“You’re… perfect …” Jayce breathed as he looked at Viktor’s pretty body. The lovely slim lines of his stomach and ribs, the way his skin was the same color as the moon, the elegant way he had stretched his limbs out in Jayce’s bed, his fluttering pulse through his skin, Jayce had never seen anything so wonderful in his life. Even better that the hand still thrust into his underwear hadn’t stopped stroking. “ Viktor …we can’t…leave this bed. It’ll… kill me…”

Viktor curled up on himself, seemingly unable to take a compliment at face value. Jayce was torn between staring at the heart wrenching disbelief in Viktor’s amber eyes and the way his nipples tightened to sweet little points. 

“Jayce, you’re…so far…” Pulling Jayce’s free arm behind his back, Viktor pulled him back down so that Jayce was practically laying on top of him. “Come back to me…”

Jayce would have melted into him if such a thing were possible.

Their clothes were wet and tight around them.

Viktor moaned and arched as his shirt seemed to cinch him tight at the shoulders and Jayce was able to slide himself ever faster against Viktor’s hips as the fabric of his underwear soaked back to front. In a moment of desperation—needing to be even closer to Viktor—Jayce pushed his free hand down the cleft of Viktor’s backside and rubbed two fingers tentatively across the warmest spot there. It was already slippery…Jayce felt as though he might pass out for how easily his fingers could just…push in…

He waited for permission but his heart nearly stopped when he felt Viktor opening his legs wider, pushing closer to Jayce’s fingers as if he could get them in simply by wiggling his hips. The noises he made were wheedling, pleading— was Viktor begging him? When he was the one who would die for this? The moment they made eye contact, there was no question.

The abject need Jayce felt was reflected in Viktor’s expression and Jayce didn’t hesitate. 

He focused hard, drinking in every detail of Viktor’s expression as he eased his longest finger into Viktor. Soft . How fucking wonderful it was to be alive to feel the heat of the man he loved, clenched and throbbing around his skin, while his face was caught up in the throes of ecstasy.

“Oh…gods, Viktor …” He would never tire of the sight. Never . 

“D-Don’t—don’t look…” Viktor moaned as he blushed from his hairline all the way down to his chest. Shy…sweet… “It’s not—”

It was enough of a loophole.

Jayce closed his eyes and opened his mouth. If his eyes couldn’t take in Viktor’s pleasure, then he’d taste it. They moved together like the most perfect machine: fitted perfectly together, oiled, and moving in perfect synchrony.

His hand pumped up and down in time with Viktor’s tickling fingertips, and he eased in a second and third finger along with the rhythm. The pleasure was helpless and hot as Viktor’s hips rocked back and forth, chasing the sensations. Any pain dulled to nothingness in comparison to the salty taste of Viktor’s skin. 

“Don’t l-let me go—Jayce, don’t let g-go!”

There was the ripping of fabric as Jayce’s back flexed against the constraints of his damp clothing. He would not give, so the seams had to. Cool air rushed along the curve of his back and his hips snapped with renewed energy.

“V! V…I can’t…much longer…”

His fingers never flagged as he chased Viktor’s inner heat but the red-hot, wet friction on his cock was becoming unbearable. He felt the incoming orgasm rising to a boil and he opened his eyes.

The thought of cumming without being able to see Viktor’s face was never an option.

Arching up as close as he could, when his sweet, luminous eyes weren’t rolling back in his head, they were staring at Jayce, brimful with love. His bottom lip trembled in time with the soft squeeze of muscles around Jayce’s fingers and he begged once more:

“Don’t let me go, Jayce.”

“I won’t V. Won’t ever…let you go.”

Viktor broke first with a short, pretty scream as Jayce rubbed hard on his hottest parts. Pushing up on his feet and his shoulders, his slim body curved in a perfect upward arch until the buttons began to pop from his shirt. He couldn’t move Jayce’s body and had to ride himself out in stuttering bursts. 

Warm and wet all around him, Jayce abandoned finesse to kiss his bloomer’s open mouth. Crying into each other’s mouth, Jayce wrapped his arms around Viktor’s back and thrust hard until he came hot and thick up Viktor’s hips and stomach. All the while swearing that he wouldn’t let Viktor go.

They held for a moment in that position: Jayce’s arms around Viktor’s waist and back, Viktor’s arms up under Jayce’s, digging his fingers into Jayce’s back. They were coiled so tight together that it felt as though they’d explode outward without the other to hold them together. With the sweat and the heat sticking their skin together, Jayce felt as though they were fusing together into a single glorious being.

Then the hot bloom of the orgasm spilled into their muscles, liquefying them. Jayce nearly collapsed onto Viktor but stopped himself at the final moment, using the last of his strength to roll onto his back and drag Viktor onto his chest.

They both breathed as though they’d pulled each other from the precipice of drowning but Jayce buried his mouth and nose against Viktor’s forehead so that each inhale carried the smell of sex and sweat. Viktor was doing the same and Jayce felt the hot point of Viktor’s tongue flick against his skin.

His clothes had gone slack around his body and Jayce swore he would peel them off, wipe himself and Viktor down with the tattered remnants of them, but it would be sacrilege not to bask in the afterglow.

As the night air cooled his skin, Jayce began to trace the schematics of their most recent invention onto Viktor’s skin. With Viktor’s limbs going slack around him, Jayce felt safe enough to begin the activity that had now dropped several places on his favorite things to do to Viktor: deviling him with intrusive personal questions that he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to.

“Viktor…are you…afraid that I’d leave you? I won’t .” He pushed some of the damp hair away from Viktor’s temple so that he could lean down and kiss him in assurance.

Viktor took a moment to respond. He shifted a little and Jayce had to do some quick calculations to keep from becoming aroused over the hot, wet tackiness that stuck them together at the hips. Their biology was intermingled. He wondered if he were to put something so warm, wanted and full of love into the soil, if the poisons would dissipate and flowers would spiral up in an explosion.  

“I grew up in the pre-revolution Zaun, Jayce. I still feel the need to…to claw out my living. I’ve lost so much to time and illness and violence. It’s still hard to reconcile this change with what I’ve always known.” He looked up at Jayce with the sweetest expression of tentative hope. “I believe you when you say you won’t leave me. Please give me time. Many who left…it wasn’t anything we had a choice in.”

Jayce leaned down to kiss Viktor’s head and wrapped his arms and legs a little tighter around the man. “I’ll give you all the time you need. V, we have all the time in the world.”

When Jayce woke, for once Viktor had risen before him. Up all night and most of the early morning, they’d slept well into the afternoon and Jayce’s room was the same bright goldenrod color as Viktor’s eyes. He smiled sleepily—the most movement he was capable of—on seeing that Viktor had stolen most of the covers, which were wrapped around his love-bitten shoulders. Naked to scrutiny, Jayce watched as Viktor leaned down, inspecting the lines of the tattoo on his calf. His fingertips were deliberate as he followed the pink of Vi’s hair into where the scar tissue began and Jayce held his breath as Viktor leaned down. 

His lips were tender and loving as he kissed down the entire bolt of scar tissue. 

A silent expression of love. He loved the tattoo, the scar, the leg. He loved Jayce, in spite of everything. Jayce closed his eyes so he could bask in the feeling of those lips on the most private part of his body and he let joyous tears slide down his cheeks into his hair.

With all he’d dreamt of for ages coming to fruition, it was nearly impossible to justify leaving the bed.

He delayed his work orders for the week, ordered groceries to be delivered, and emptied a basket to hold the dirty laundry so that he and Viktor could stay in bed for hours at a time. They had all the time in the world and Jayce intended to have the both of them naked for as much of that time as possible.

He’d always thought Viktor looked so elegant in the indigo robes layered over his skin-tight bodysuits but this was before he’d seen Viktor nude. Viktor’s body was perfection and—when Jayce’s body wasn’t pressed flush against it—he often caught himself staring, in complete disbelief over how someone so stunning had conceded to give him a chance.

He thought he’d known of the beauty of mechanics and engineering before, but Viktor’s warm, silky body was a marvel on its own. 

The blunt quality of Jayce’s fingers, the thick muscles that roped through his limbs were slim and sophisticated on Viktor. Jayce could spend hours tracing the blue veins under his pale skin, kissing the tattoos that lined his knuckles, dragging his teeth along the fragile bones of Viktor’s feet. When Jayce had finally prepared Viktor wide enough to accommodate him on their fourth day of exile, he found very quickly that the way their bodies fit together deserved every bit of his attention.

“Are you… experimenting on me?” Viktor gasped as his hips shifted in an attempt to get used to the sensations. 

“Performing experimentation on a human test subject,” Jayce’s breath was ragged as he nipped at Viktor’s ear, “the academy would have a field day when they find that I’m… ahhh …completely unrepentant.” He tried to ease out slowly when Viktor clenched so tight around him that it made his vision go white at the edges. “ Gods, V!”

“I…didn’t say…you had to stop.” When Viktor wanted something, he couldn’t be pulled away from his pursuit. Judging by the abject desperation in Viktor’s expression, Jayce knew Viktor wouldn’t let him free until he’d run some experiments of his own. 

Jayce’s toes curled and he angled his hips so he could hit the spot inside Viktor he’d been toying with for hours on end. 

There was enough data to fill several notebooks; the pleasure was so overwhelming that Viktor didn’t let him go for much other than sleep for a full week. Jayce had made a note to apologize to the neighboring apartments for any noises they’d been forced to endure.

They’d been relying on their accumulated goodwill to avoid complaints but their luck couldn’t hold forever. Jayce was digging his fingers into the small of Viktor’s back while Viktor dozed in the afternoon sun, when someone rapped firmly on the door. To keep Viktor from waking, Jayce stumbled from bed and yanked on the first pair of clean trousers he could put his hands on before limping to the entryway.

The worst possible scenario, someone had raised the alarm with Silco and Jayce felt a terrifying swoop of dread on opening the door to find the man standing outside. It was as if he’d been caught with his pants down, in bed with the man’s son . Silco coolly surveyed him, his right eye latching on to a spot on Jayce’s neck. “Talis. I was told you were incapacitated.”

“I-In…a manner of speaking.” 

“I see. And Viktor?” He glanced around Jayce to peer into the apartment. It was masterfully done; if anyone else had been sent to check on them, then Jayce would have risen protectively to keep them from seeing Viktor in the state he’d left him. But Silco was the one exception. “I assume you’re there, dear boy?”

“I’m alive and well.” Viktor’s voice was hoarse and Jayce felt blush creeping up his neck as he heard the rustle of sheets. “No need to sound the alarm.”

Silco stared at Jayce for what felt like a eon before he let the tension release, raising his eyebrows as if making clear he thought Viktor could do better. “Vander has had people asking about when the both of you will be taking work again. Can I let him know to expect you back on your feet in the next…two, three days?” 

Jayce wanted to die of mortification as Silco caught his expression while he thought of how Viktor had been reclined on the bed for most of their truancy: laughing, smiling, radiating bliss even with his lower back in aching shambles. “I-I’ll be ready by then.” Viktor could rest in their apartment for as long as he liked to recover and Jayce would pick up the slack. 

“Excellent. I’ll let him know. Viktor, send word if you need to use Ekko’s board. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

Having secured confirmation that they were alive and that Viktor was not being held hostage, Silco turned to head back to the Drop. Jayce almost felt safe enough to relax when Viktor shouted from inside: “Did you all put money on us?”

Such a thing was something Jayce hadn’t considered and Silco laughed. “I wonder…”

It seemed a small price to pay for Silco to leave them for the remainder of their honeymoon period and Jayce hurried back into the apartment. The rumor mill would be in full swing but he couldn’t bring himself to care when Viktor looked like a work of art in his bed, the sheets draping off of him at the crux of his knees.

“I’ll bet he’s making a fortune off of us.” Viktor grumbled as Jayce ruffled his hair. “On the gods, when the injury took his eye, I think he received minor omniscience as compensation. Really they’re just stealing from Benzo since Vander lets Silco do the books.”

“Don’t move,” Jayce could think of no rebuttal to Viktor’s arguments and instead busied himself with finding paper and pencil.

“I don’t think I could if I tried,” Viktor tried to complain more but his smile gave him away.

“I recall you refusing to let me go. Begged me to stay, in fact.”

“The things you’d do to have me do it again.”

Jayce captured his likeness in charcoal, the dark lines perfect for the sharp contours of Viktor’s face. “I’d do the begging,” Jayce said as he drew Viktor’s lips in an upward curve. “Gods, I should have studied art instead.”

In between their feverish touching, Jayce would fill a quarter of a notebook with Viktor’s form in charcoal. He could trace that lithe body in his sleep—all his dreams were of Viktor’s mouth, his cheekbones, his hips…

It was hard not to keep from frowning a little on the dawn of the day Silco expected their return.

Viktor glanced and then laughed as he tugged his trousers on and reached out a hand for his brace. “Gods, you look as though the world is ending, Jayce.”

“How long do you think we’d have before Silco hunted us down?”

Viktor snorted at the thought before coming over to smooth Jayce’s hair back and try to keep him from suggesting any other ridiculous ploys. “You’re too slow with the buildup. He’d find you before you got my clothes off.” Jayce, baited by the challenge, briefly entertained a fantasy of tearing the clothes off Viktor’s back and Viktor must have caught the unspoken idea in Jayce’s expression, judging by his furious blush. “We only have the three work orders and the check on Ekko’s project. Then we can go to the Fissure.”

“You have clothes there that you don’t care about?” 

“Only one way to find out.”

Jayce bit him softly on the palm. “How cruel.” But he liked it. The promise of it hung in the air as they walked down the streets in an obvious post-coital glow. Jayce’s hand was firmly planted on Viktor’s hip and the obvious claim had him so dizzy with joy that he could easily brush off the teasing shouts from the locals on the way. 

“Finally bent for the pretty Piltie, eh?” One of the braver teenagers called out to Viktor as they passed.

“What makes you think I didn’t bend him?” Viktor shot back with such cool, assured grace that the kids broke into howls of disbelief. Zaunite, through and through . Though Jayce caught the blush on his pretty ears. “What?”

“You want to try it?” He was deliriously excited by the idea, even more so when Viktor flushed the color of new brick. 

“Give me…time to adjust, Jayce.” His accent came out thicker than usual, the offer flustering him and Jayce was charmed.

“I’ll hold you to it. Oh, it’s Heimerdinger.”

Heimerdinger was coming up the road, headed back to Piltover, and he jolted when he saw Jayce and Viktor approaching. His fur puffed up and he glanced furtively back towards the way he’d come before smiling and waving. “Jayce! And Viktor,” his memory was exceptional; that he could remember Viktor after one meeting was impressive, “Good morning to the both of you!”

“Morning professor. Where are you off to?”

“Oh, I…I’m off to do a little research. And the two of you? Going to the bar?”

“I should.” Jayce laughed nervously, “I’m meant to be mentoring Ekko and Claggor for the competition but I’ve been erm…” he thought of Viktor dozing lazily in their bed and felt the heat rippling up from his lower abdomen, “busy with…personal projects. Ekko is fairly confident in his proposal and I have no concerns about his skills but I might drop by this afternoon after my—”

“It’s funny you should bring him up,” Heimerdinger interrupted as he wrung his hands together, “Due to how many youngsters you two have taken on, I wanted to step in. Would you mind terribly if I take over the mentorship of the project he’ll be working on with his lady friend?” There was a shade of desperation to the plea and Jayce was awash in guilt; had Ekko asked Heimerdinger to make this request on his behalf? The boy couldn’t do better than the former dean of the university as his program mentor.

And one less project to focus on would mean more time to spend with Viktor . 

“Of course! I’m just glad he’s finally convinced Powder to come on board with competing alongside him. Those two are formidable together. I’m happy to step aside.”

Heimerdinger all but slumped in relief. “I’m so glad you understand, dear boy. Ekko is…not quite feeling himself, I’m afraid. It might be erm… stress from the competition but if he seems unlike himself, don’t hold it against him.” Jayce could empathize with the sleepless nights and the headaches borne of inventing and assured Heimerdinger that he’d actually welcome some typical teenage moodiness from Ekko who was almost always gentle and charismatic, a little ornery at worst.

“I think a little teenage rebellion would suit him,” Viktor joked as well, trying to lighten the mood. “Have him tear through the streets on that hoverboard of his.”

The conversation was winding down but Heimerdinger surprised Jayce once more before they parted ways. “If it’s not too much trouble, Viktor, would you mind accompanying me back to the bridge? I want to erm… discuss something about Miss Young.”

“Is she alright?” Viktor’s concern was immediate and Jayce simply waved him off as he continued along his route, knowing that Viktor would know where to find him.

“She’s healthy, yes, but—”

Hurrying to his appointment, Jayce only stopped when he encountered Powder leading Ekko down one of the alleys to some unknown destination. Heimerdinger hadn’t been lying; while Powder was in a good mood, Ekko seemed completely adrift, a thunderstruck look taking over his expression when he saw Jayce. Jayce made sure to stay friendly and unbothered simply to spare the poor boy from crossing from shock into an outright breakdown.

“Where are you dragging him off to?” Jayce asked, hoping friendly banter with Powder would have Ekko calming down.

“Heya Jayce! All this plotting has put him,” Powder thumbed fondly over her shoulder in Ekko’s direction, “in a funk. So we’re going to get away for a bit. Go see Vi, maybe.” Jayce smiled. Vander and Ekko had both talked about a small shrine Powder had built for her sister—a pale approximation of the real thing, but a tangible comfort nonetheless, just as Jayce had inked his in permanently. 

“Good idea. This’ll pass. Every great inventor has had a nervous breakdown at least once or twice so this is as much a right of passage as anything. It’ll be good to get out of your notes.” He was going to reach out to pat Ekko on the shoulder but the boy flinched back before Jayce’s touch could land.

There was something…hard, angry, almost distrustful in Ekko’s gaze and Jayce could understand then why Heimerdinger had looked so nervous. He almost seemed like a different man entirely and Jayce took his hand back. 

“I’ll see you both around.”

Powder shot him an apologetic smile as she shuffled Ekko away and Ekko glanced back at him—once, twice—with a furtive expression as though he expected Jayce to attack. Jayce shook his head; it wasn’t the first time a young, competitive scientist had suffered a bout of mania and he wasn’t about to take things personally. Not when his endorphins were still high from what he’d done with Viktor that morning.

He had never enjoyed his work so much and had become so used to Viktor’s presence nearby that he didn’t startle when he felt familiar fingers touch his shoulders.

He turned his jaw so that he could rub the grain of his beard against Viktor’s hand. “Is Sky alright?”

“Sky? Oh! She’s ah…she’s fine.” Viktor sounded distant, his mind elsewhere and Jayce looked up to find his lover staring at him. The look was so tender, so bittersweet that Jayce turned Viktor’s palm up so he could kiss it. “She’s alright. It’s…so dangerous though. The moment you left me, I was filled with so much dread. All I could think of while the professor spoke was…how I wanted to come back to you.”

“Now you know how I’ve felt for years now.” In spite of how it bordered on obsession, Jayce couldn’t hide how pleased he was at the revelation. “I’ll work quick, V, and we can go home.”

In the rosy glow of his excitement, Jayce didn’t notice how quietly anxious Viktor was until they were walking home together and they encountered Powder. Jayce was going to say hello but the words died on his lips when he saw her thunderous expression. A far cry from the bright, delighted girl who’d been leading her partner away in hopes of making him feel better, she radiated hurt with her mouth white and trembling and her arms crossed protectively over her chest.

“Powder,” Viktor had no fear of calling out and she jolted as if she hadn’t noticed their presence at all, “Is everything alright? Did…Ekko say something strange?” Apparently it was a very good guess.

The pain was stark in her eyes—something between righteous fury and devastation—and she curled away from Viktor’s curious gaze. “I don’t want to fucking talk about it. He…he…” Jayce watched helplessly as her eyes flicked to his leg, right where his tattoo was, “If he comes looking, tell him to save it. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to talk to him. Just all of you leave me alone.”

Viktor nodded in understanding and let her stalk off in a miserable fury. “Poor thing…”

“What in the hell?” Jayce asked him, jarred by the encounter, “We’ve only been out for a few hours and it seems like everyone is falling to pieces.”

Viktor gave a noncommittal hum as they entered the elevator into the fissures and didn’t seem capable of conversation for the rest of the evening. In spite of how they sat next to each other to tend to his plants and how Jayce spoke passionately of Claggor’s botanical–powered air filter, Viktor wasn’t as talkative as normal, only providing the most basic of platitudes by way of response. When they finally managed to cram into Viktor’s single-person bed, Jayce took his time to pet Viktor into a slickened, shivering mess before broaching what was wrong. “You’re not yourself Viktor. Is it Miss Young?” He smoothed Viktor’s hair from his forehead as Viktor shook his head, “Or Ekko and Powder?”

It was a better guess. Viktor made a small noise of discontent as he settled in closer. Kissing Jayce’s inner wrist, he took his time to formulate a response. “What would you do if I…if I changed, Jayce?”

“Changed how?”

“You said that the professor changed abruptly a few years ago—that he was…indifferent to Zaun—indolent—and now he’s driven by his desire for progress. And now Ekko isn’t himself.”

“You think it’s a pattern?” Jayce asked, sitting up slightly as he tried to think of connecting factors. There weren’t many; Ekko and Heimerdinger were completely races, different ages, and in different stratospheres of social class. Their only similarities were a love of scientific discovery and their gentle, patient, inquisitive natures.

“It’s a hypothetical,” Viktor insisted with a shudder as Jayce began to play with his hair, “if I were to change like them, to someone you didn’t recognize, would you still… stay by my side?”

“What kind of question is that?” Jayce grinned down at his lover. “I’d still study you until you inevitably give in and invite me back into your bed,” And when that failed to elicit the laugh he craved to break the tension, Jayce became as sincere as possible, “V…I’ll love you, I’ll stay with you even if you change.”

How could he not promise such a thing when Viktor looked up at him with those large, sweet eyes?

“Even if I didn’t remember you?” 

It had a twist of horror building in Jayce’s gut. The thought of waking up to his beloved bloomer and finding no recognition in his face was too terrible to dwell on. But…at least Viktor would still be with him. There’d still be hope. 

Jayce held Viktor’s bare body close and kissed every part he could. “You fell for me once, V. I’ll charm you again, as many times as you need. You said it yourself: I’m relentless.” His charm had worked and Viktor snorted a laugh before laying a soft bite on Jayce’s chest. “What if I changed, V?” Even with any sort of change he was confident that his heart would be pulled towards Viktor just as it had on the moment he’d first seen Viktor in front of Benzo’s shop. 

The swiftness and vehemence of Viktor’s response surprised Jayce. There was no pause for thought. “I’d wait for you for as long as it took, Jayce.” 

The general consensus Jayce had heard through town gossip was that he was the more devoted, the one who was more in love but he was willing to bet that Viktor had fooled everyone. Viktor would wait for him . It was the sweetest admission Viktor could have made and Jayce rolled so Viktor was beneath him. 

Viktor laughed and tried, in vain, to push Jayce off as Jayce rubbed his facial hair over Viktor’s sensitive skin. Every kiss, every touch that he layered on Viktor’s slender body brought them further from hypothetical concerns and back to what was tender and tangible. 

In the warmth of the greenhouse, Jayce dipped below the covers in pursuit of soothing Viktor with his mouth. Every other issue that was occurring outside could fade into the background when Viktor tasted so good and his cries were so sweet and Jayce had sworn not to let him go.

“V, I’m so happy,” Jayce murmured thickly into the reddened bits of Viktor’s legs where the brace had bitten into his skin, “I’ve never been so happy in all my life.” Viktor would wait for him and Jayce would never let Viktor go . With every passing day, the thought of living made him happy.

Chapter Text

Though it was a luxury that few working people could manage, Jayce liked to make love at least once in the warm light of morning. Sleep and the heat of the sun always had Viktor in a languid, obedient mood and Jayce went slow to keep him that way. He’d spent the better part of an hour lapping Viktor open before leisurely sliding himself in, marveling at how Viktor’s insides were even warmer than the sunlight. 

Laying down parallel to one another, Jayce thrust slowly so that he could brush Viktor’s favorite spots while he nursed at the constellations of moles and freckles on Viktor’s shoulders. 

If he had his way, Jayce would have liked to rut at that pace until Viktor was fully lucid in his arms but not everyone shared his patience. He grumbled in dismay as someone pounded a firm fist on the door of his apartment about a half an hour into his experimentation.

“Come back later, we’re not up yet,” Jayce called out to a mumbled ‘liar’ from Viktor.

“It’s me, Jayce.” Ekko called back before knocking again. “I…I need your help with something.”

“Gods save me,” Jayce hissed in dismay. Viktor started laughing into the pillows and the muscles fluttering around Jayce had his eyes nearly rolling back in his head. “L-Little man. I’ll do whatever you need. Anything you want, I swear I’ll do it,” he couldn’t help himself and dragged his cock out to the very tip before pushing back in again to a stifled moan from Viktor, “ if you come back in fif— twenty minutes.”

Sweat dripped off of Jayce’s upper lip until he heard the reluctant ‘fine’ from outside. The relief was so immense that he nearly dropped onto Viktor.

“Is twenty enough?” Viktor sounded as though he was falling back asleep and it was hell to think he had to tear himself from the man. 

Jayce gently bit the curve of Viktor’s ear at the same time as he slipped his hands forward to pinch the tips of Viktor’s nipples, an action that invariably led to Viktor arching his back and making a soft whine of pleasure. “I think we only need five.”

Viktor held out for seven minutes before he collapsed into a trembling heap on the mattress. Jayce helped him to the tub before airing out the room in preparation for Ekko’s return. The boy was really in a state, arriving at exactly twenty past, glowering at everything and nothing.

Jayce closed the door behind him in case Viktor wandered out of the bathroom nude and was caught in the crossfire of Ekko’s newly sharpened tongue. Jayce couldn’t bear the thought of someone else seeing his bloomer naked and he would hate to have to fight the kid if Ekko said something rude to Viktor.

Ekko approached him as if he was a threat, suspicion seated deep in his brown eyes. With a twinge of sadness, Jayce realized that the little man had the guarded, angry look that many who’d grown up in the hardest years of Zaun still had when talking about the old days. It was… wrong to see the expression in Ekko’s normally gentle face and Jayce prepared himself not to take any sharpness Ekko might aim at him to heart.

“Hey Little Man. You said you need help with something?”

Ekko jolted as Jayce spoke and he crossed his arms defensively over his chest. The little mannerisms, the way he wore his clothes, even the way he styled his white hair was slightly off as if it was an uncanny copy of Ekko in front of him. “Jayce. I…I do.” He tilted his chin up defiantly but his gaze did soften. “Would you take me to your old apartment in Piltover? W-Where Vi…died?”

It was as if Ekko had punched him in the diaphragm. It took a moment for Jayce to catch his breath and his heart beat painfully as he came up with a response. “I can take you, Ekko but…why do you want to go there?” 

“I’ve forgotten things and it’s—I hurt J—Powder.” His regret was obvious and his shoulders slumped. “I’m trying to remember so that I can apologize to her but…I can’t remember where to go. The professor told me—he showed me that the borders are open now,” they had been for some time now and Jayce felt his lungs seize at the extent of Ekko’s memory issues, “but I don’t know the way. I…I trust you, Jayce; will you show me the way?”

It was the absolute last thing Jayce would have expected Ekko to request from him but he could tell the boy had no ill will and was being truly genuine. Many Zaunites had made the pilgrimage to where their girl Violet had passed on and ignited a revolution but Jayce hadn’t gone back to his former apartment since the night before he’d gone to Stillwater. Time for your pilgrimage . 

He circled his tattoo with his thumb and nodded. 

“Yeah kid. Yeah, I’ll take you.” Jayce leaned against the door to brace himself. “When did you want to go?”

“When’s the earliest you can take me?” 

Jayce felt as though he’d been drained from the whiplash of the morning. From the ecstasy of morning sex to the dread of Ekko’s request and then back to the soft joy of seeing Viktor lounging carelessly naked on his bed with his clean hair in a wavy chestnut cloud and his long legs splayed open. If not for the task at hand, Jayce would have knelt on the ground, put his face between Viktor’s legs, and taken his morning meal there. Instead Viktor looked up and smiled, crossing his legs at the ankle.

“Is Zaun still standing?”

Jayce collapsed onto the bed, pillowing his head on Viktor’s stomach, “I’m afraid so, though with some of the mechanical mishaps these kids have, I fear the city is on borrowed time.” He kissed Viktor’s navel as Viktor laughed, remembering some of the botched experiments they’d been forced to bear witness to during the last few months. “I think the Piltover kids should be trembling in fear. None of them are half as fiery.”

Jayce felt hands in his hair, massaging his scalp. “What did Ekko want?”

“He wants to go into Piltover to see my old apartment.” Jayce admitted and Viktor sat up in surprise. “Whatever’s affected him…it’s bad, V. He didn’t even remember that the borders were open and he was there ,” Jayce remembered him crossing the line that divided the two cities, “it’s been open for years now and he didn’t remember. I think it’s worse than the stress from the competition. He’s like a completely different person.”

“You’re going to take him? Will you be alright?”

“I owe it to him, V. Vi was his friend too and…I’d hate it if he'd forgotten her. If this helps him remember, then I’ll take him into Piltover. Will you come with me?” As always, he felt a surge of courage with Viktor at his side. 

“Of course I’ll go.” Viktor murmured before leaning down to kiss Jayce’s forehead. “I…want to spend as much time with you as I can.” 

It was such a sweet, honest request that Jayce nearly hit his head against Viktor’s chin in his haste to sit up. So rarely did Viktor make these kinds of hungry admissions; Jayce didn’t want to squander a moment of the mood and his trepidation over Ekko’s situation vanished. “I’ll cancel my appointments for today.”

“ Jayce .” Viktor tried to chastise him but it was ruined by his helpless smile.

Jayce inched himself down so that he was draped over Viktor and began to pet him. “We can stay in bed the rest of the morning—”

“You can’t abandon work when the mood strikes you—”

“We can work on some of the preservation containers you need for perishable plant materials.” Jayce offered as an underhanded way to appeal to Viktor. When not buried up to their tongues in each other, they worked on their pet projects. There was nothing Jayce was inventing for himself; all of his inspiration was put towards devices that would make Viktor happy. Currently they were researching ways to keep Viktor’s beloved plants’ parts fresh for as long as possible and Jayce was driven to invent by Viktor’s delighted smile when something worked. “I was thinking of a portable chemist’s pack—use Ekko’s hovering mechanism to make it lightweight—”

Viktor nearly gave in. Jayce clocked it in his expression before Viktor caught himself and began to laugh. “ No! Silco will see through it in a heartbeat. He’ll drag you through the streets naked. Jayce !” His mouth was so contrary when his hands were in Jayce’s hair and his legs wound around Jayce’s hips. “We can’t stay in the apartment all day.”

Jayce could have called his bluff.

This sweet bloomer, a loner by nature, weak to pleasure and the siren song of whirring gears, didn’t want to stay in all day doing what he loved most? He didn’t believe it for a moment. If Jayce doubled down on seducing him then Viktor would succumb and he smiled seeing Viktor’s eyes flick down to his lips, once, twice…

When Jayce kissed Viktor, he could feel the heat coming up from Viktor’s core as those slender limbs seemed to melt around him. Jayce poured every ounce of passion into the kiss, his tongue moving in the soft promise of the softest thrusts to his insides, a wet curl in Viktor’s sensitive ears, sucking hard on his nipples in the way he liked. He had studied Viktor so well that he could seduce Viktor without actually saying anything.

When he pulled back, Viktor’s amber eyes were hazy with desire and just the smallest push—another deep kiss—would convince Viktor to remain naked and sweet in bed for the rest of the day. Jayce grinned down at him before kissing him lightly on the nose.

“You’re right. We should go.”

Only by using all of his self-control did Jayce keep from breaking into laughter when he saw Viktor’s thunderstruck expression. He had to leap from the bed to stop the giggles from overflowing but Viktor must have noticed his mirth.

“You’re unbelievable,” Viktor whispered and his tone was hot with indignation and lust. 

Jayce was about to respond but, as he turned back, Viktor lurched forward and kissed Jayce the moment Jayce caught him. Maybe once…just once before they left to go about their work day, he could have Viktor shaking and digging fingernails into his back . His hands were halfway down Viktor’s underwear, Viktor’s tongue halfway down his throat when there was another firm knock at the door.

Viktor seemed fully prepared to ignore their newest solicitor until the person outside mentioned him.

“Talis. Is the bloomer inside? We’re too short for the apothecary this month—”

Viktor cursed under his breath, still heated but unable to help his generous nature as he reached for a set of clean clothes. Jayce smiled. “Give us a minute.” 

They’d have to wait until later as Viktor invited the desperate vastaya in. Jayce couldn’t be angry about it; he liked when Viktor took on his gentlest tone and began putting his medicinal botany knowledge to good use. He’d get Viktor another book on it while they were in Piltover, a balm for whatever Ekko might put them through. Maybe he’d read it to Viktor while they lounged in bed together, discuss agronomy, micropropagation, and arboriculture while he dug his fingers into Viktor’s lower back . 

Maybe the purchase of multiple books was in order…

Viktor, the consummate professional, kept his focus on his patient though he did glance back at Jayce once or twice. Jayce’s scheming must have been stark on his face because Viktor’s eyes narrowed and his ears went scarlet as he mixed some of his dry ingredients together.

How could Jayce be irritated by the interruption when people in town knew exactly where to find his bloomer? 

Ekko was only content to wait until the following afternoon for Jayce to show him the way but he did seem a bit more subdued than he had been the previous morning. Jayce had never known him to be so mercurial and he frowned on seeing the dark circles of exhaustion under Ekko’s eyes. He was waiting at the same spot on the canal bridge, just behind the border crossing, which he eyed askance.

Whatever had gone on between him and Powder must have gone incredibly poorly.

“Not too late to turn back,” Viktor joked as he squeezed Jayce’s hand. 

“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” Jayce sighed. “I promised him. Little Man!” Ekko jolted as Jayce called out to him. “You ready kid?”

“I—” Ekko glanced around frantically, looking at the harmless shops and playing children as if they would attack him at any given moment. 

It was Viktor who came to the rescue, tactful with his fellow countrymen in ways Jayce could never seem to manage half as well. “We’ll wait for you on the other bank. Join us when you’re ready, Ekko.” His slim hand went to the crook of Jayce’s arm and they meandered slowly down the bridge, allowing Ekko plenty of time to make the journey behind them. “Should we put money on how long it takes him?”

“You’re starting to sound like Silco.” Jayce tried to joke but he felt very real panic at the thought.

“And you sound terrified.” Viktor smiled and bumped his head playfully into Jayce’s shoulder. “If Silco truly was your enemy, you’d know it. Though now I wonder…it would be a difficult choice who to put money on when it came to a fight between the two of you. Both so strong-willed…” He was giving it some real thought and Jayce stared at him in disbelief.

“You’re ornery today, V.” He nearly forgot about Ekko as they came to the Piltover side.

“And I think the people in Zaun like you more than you give them credit for.” Viktor said fondly. The sweet thing, trying to lighten his mood when he had such a difficult errand to run . For the first time in years, with Viktor by his side, Jayce felt a sense of peace on the streets of Piltover. It took Ekko a little longer.

Rather than just crossing a bridge he’d been joyfully darting across for years now, he looked ashen, as if the journey had taken years off of his life. “It’s…really true then. Piltover and the undercity they’re…” when he glanced up at the Piltover skyline, grief and wonder mixed in turns on his face, “i-it’s all… open .”

“It is.” Viktor assured him, “But we have a bit of a walk ahead of us…if you don’t mind.”

Ekko glanced down as Viktor motioned and inhaled as he caught sight of their twin braces. “Oh. Yeah…uh…lead the way then, Jayce.”

The silence was unbearable on the way to the university district.

Jayce ached to make conversation with Viktor but navigating around Ekko’s changes felt like he was having to tiptoe through a minefield. In this state, the boy looked fit to break down. Viktor noticed the tension and was not as reluctant, perhaps because he’d known Ekko longer. 

“So…what on earth did you do to make yourself and Powder so miserable?”

Ekko almost leapt from his skin before settling back into misery. “...I don’t want to talk about it.”

Having Viktor speak up gave Jayce a little courage and he gave Ekko a reassuring smile. “You guys have always worked through things. If you just apologize, then I’m sure she’ll understand.” Something flashed in Ekko’s eyes and Jayce flinched preemptively. “She’s just like us; we’re all worried about you, kid. 

“It’s like you’re…a different person altogether.” Viktor added and clearly it was the wrong thing to say.

“It’s—I don’t even remember you being here, in the undercity . And you . Talis. Why did you even come to the undercity?” Ekko’s tone was almost accusatory as the words spilled out unfettered. “I always thought a golden boy like you would be…that you’d never leave what you knew in Piltover.” That one hurt . Jayce actually had to pause mid-step just to process the pain that rippled through his lungs.

“I can see why Powder is angry with you.” Viktor was unimpressed. When Jayce looked over, he found Viktor almost…sizing Ekko up, as if he’d challenge the boy to a fight if his body would allow it. His protective streak was unbearably attractive. “Even if you don’t remember, you can’t… hurt the people who care about you.”

To his credit, Ekko did look chastened by Viktor.

“It was the only place I could go.” Jayce admitted quietly as they kept walking. He wasn’t sure where the ‘golden boy’ bit had come from but it was said with such contempt that he felt the sting of it regardless. “I promised everyone in Zaun that I’d stay.”

“And I’ve always been from the undercity—Zaun.” Viktor added. “It’s my home.”

“I…didn’t know.” Ekko murmured.

It was some terrible form of amnesia, a complete change, that was somehow more shocking than when it had happened to Heimerdinger . The dread wasn’t able to truly set in as the three of them came to the entrance of the university district.

His old neighborhood was much the same as he remembered: gleaming with white-marble wealth and the vibrancy of youth, the students who wandered the streets still had the same hungry look in their eyes that all competitors had. For a moment, Jayce felt like a student again, walking in step with his peers in their sharp uniforms, but the illusion didn’t last long. They stood out in their undercity clothes, he and Viktor unable to mask their matching limps, and their destination became clear—as incongruous as they were in the otherwise stately district. Even Ekko seemed taken aback by the sight of the half destroyed apartment that had been hastily covered by wooden planks.

Someone from Zaun had been there recently, if only based on the bright pink flowers that had been painted around the edge of the doorframe. Jayce placed his hand on a bare bit of the frame.

“This is it. My old place is up on the fourth floor. Do you want company or—”

Ekko was staring up and shaking in place but Jayce’s question seemed to break him free from his hypnosis. “No! I mean—no, I…I think I should go up on my own. And…don’t feel like you have to wait for me. I can find my own way back.”

“Sure thing kid.” Jayce patted his shoulder.

“I hope…you find the answers you’re looking for.” Viktor touched Ekko’s shoulder briefly as well before the boy disappeared into the dark innards of the building.

In spite of his assurances that he could find his own way back, Viktor and Jayce unanimously decided to wait, if only to rest their legs before the trip back. Finding a vacant bench at the nearby intersection, they had an unlimited view of Jayce’s old apartment.

Jayce rested Viktor’s cane across his leg and took his hand, rubbing his thumb over Viktor’s tattoos. Viktor eyed the place with calculation and Jayce could feel the questions coming on.

“Go on then,” Jayce said, “tell me what’s on that devious mind of yours.”

Viktor’s ears flushed at being caught out. “Are you responsible for the repairs?”

“I’d do a better job than that. No, the council ordered that work done. They had it boarded up during the rebellion,” He’d pieced the story together from accounts on both sides of the canal, “since so many people from Zaun were trying to slip in to…lay flowers and coins and…other little things in Vi’s memory. No matter how much security the Enforcers put at the doors or the offerings they destroyed, people found a way to get in. I heard that there was talk early on of tearing the building down but when Grayson didn’t act and the tides turned…I think Silco demanded it to stay for the rest of the community. For his family.” Caitlyn had spoken of his tenacity in keeping it up in spite of how many in the elite district considered it an eyesore. “From what I hear, they’ve kept everything mostly the same since that day. I wonder…how many of my notes are still on the chalkboards up there…” He wondered if his blood still stained the hall carpets . 

“You haven’t…gone back to see?”

“Never.” Jayce squeezed Viktor’s hand. He’d trust no one other than his beloved bloomer with the confession but it was…still difficult to say. “The night after sentencing, I tried to go back. I was going to…I was going to jump from the hole that was blasted in the walls. I felt…” He couldn’t even revisit the feelings, much less say them aloud; it was too dark, “Thank the gods someone posted Enforcers at the door or I never would have gone into Zaun that night.” Viktor made a small expression of pain at the revelation and Jayce swiftly changed the subject. “Have you ever been up?” 

“With my leg? I…” Viktor averted his eyes and became a little twitchy from nerves, “No…I couldn’t come anywhere close. During the revolution I…I was afraid . You don’t know what the Enforcers would do to…to people who couldn’t run. I was afraid they’d beat me or throw me in the prisons.”

He was absolutely right and Jayce couldn’t bear to imagine someone so gentle tossed to the wolves in Stillwater. He let go of Viktor’s hand so that he could hold the man closer. 

Thank the gods he hadn’t jumped. He would never have met Viktor otherwise .

“Should we go up together someday?”

Viktor smiled at him then at the building itself. “I think…I should. When we go, you’ll have to remind me to bring her flowers.” He had so many pink and violet flowers growing around Zaun. He loved Zaun and the young girl who was her symbol. It was his home.

“I will.” 

They were able to sit in comfortable silence, enjoying the beautiful afternoon when something Viktor said piqued his curiosity. “During the revolution, were you safe V?”

“Nn, yes. Silco knew I was a healer and that I—that in—I was afraid of running into hostile enforcers.” He seemed to bristle, as though he might have joined in the fray if not for his disability. “Luckily there weren’t too many injuries that needed my attention since the barons were able to protect the medics. Thank the gods it wasn’t like…that first attempt Vander and Silco made.” Jayce could scarcely remember after the stress of moving to Piltover and losing his father not long after, but he had heard hushed tones about the failed riot from years prior. “I wonder…how things would have changed if they’d been successful.”

“I would have come to seduce you so much sooner.” Jayce tried to play the suggestion off jokingly but felt himself go a little dizzy at the thought of being within distance of Viktor when his teenage hormones had hit him broadside. “I probably would have failed all my classes.”

“You know yourself too well.” Viktor laughed before resting his head on Jayce’s shoulder. “Do you think he’ll be up there all night?”

“You want to bet on that as well? Or are you just impatient? Big plans this evening?”

“I want to go back to bed.” Viktor called his bluff so matter-of-fact that Jayce felt physically nauseous from his blood rushing to his hips. Viktor at his school would have ruined him. He’d never be able to think about anything else .

“Yeah…so do I, V.”

Luckily, Ekko didn’t keep them waiting and he came back out within the hour with his hands in his pockets and a more peaceful expression on his face. Jayce felt a rush of relief as the kid didn’t look angry on seeing they’d waited for him. 

“Did you find what you needed?” Viktor asked. 

Ekko nodded. His mind was clearly elsewhere so Jayce wasn’t expecting a detailed explanation of Ekko’s mental journey in the remnants of his old apartment but Ekko surprised him. “I have to apologize to her. And I’ll need some paint.”

Whatever it took for Powder to forgive him. And for Jayce to get Viktor back into bed faster. “Alright kid. Let’s get you some paint.”

Viktor’s skin was silver in the light of the moon.

Jayce rested each finger on a separate mole on Viktor’s back until both his hands were splayed across Viktor’s shoulder blades. Smooth and cool to the touch, his body was a delicate marvel. Jayce hated the cold but he found he could come to love it radiating off of Viktor’s skin. 

Jayce could only thank his innate stubbornness and some stroke of good fortune that he’d gotten someone like Viktor as a lover. In his bed. In his hands . 

“Jayce?”

“Yeah?”

"Do you remember what your apartment looks like inside?"

The question caught him off guard but it didn't cause him any kind of dread as he recalled some of the little details of his former home. "Yeah, V. I think I could draw it from memory if you wanted me to."

"Do you dream of it? Your nightmares—"

"Yeah." Jayce was fully honest with his bloomer. He would understand. "Yeah...sometimes I dream that there are no guards and I'm walking to the edge to jump. The worst ones are...when I dream of you standing there as if you're the one who's going to..." He couldn't even bear to say it. "I used to think the worst nightmares were when I had to relive that afternoon, over and over, unable to change anything. But I think now the worst is when someone I love—when you're there and I have no way to reach you." He couldn't bear to dwell on those terrible illusions of his mind when Viktor was staring up at him with those sweet, wide eyes of his. He ruffled Viktor's soft hair and watched how the ends rebelled. "I have a question for you, V."

"Oh?"

"Did you know Vi?" From what he'd heard, the little scrapper likely would find more beauty in hard work and the delicate choreography of martial arts than in the maze of machinery in Viktor's world. But...he was close with the Drop family, especially Powder and Ekko.

"Ah...a little. But she was always out getting into trouble. What little I knew of her she was bold and determined and perceptive—soft with the people she liked. Your friend Caitlyn would have...I think they would have gotten along."

Jayce snorted. "I think Cait wouldn't know what hit her. She's too soft and shy to handle a born-and-bred kid from the Lanes."

Viktor clocked his teasing and elbowed Jayce’s flank. "I think Caitlyn would fight you if she heard you say that. And you're one to talk! You let these kids bully you the moment they show any interest in innovation. I think Vi would have you down fighting in the Seam the moment I turned my back."

He was heated from Jayce baiting him— charming —and leaned down to sink his teeth into Viktor’s warm earlobe. “Even so…I’d still come back to you. I promised you.”

Perhaps he'd been too flippant while thinking of the past—his apartment, his deathly ideations, Vi, all the memories—but whatever the reason, once he heard from Claggor and Vander that Ekko had patched his relationship with Powder, Jayce's nightmares returned with a vengeance.

The intensity of them was astounding.

He dreamt of strangling Silco, the man's eyes glittering with malice as his hands wrapped around Jayce's throat in turn. And then, just as quickly, it was Powder beneath him and her delicate neck in his hands. There was accusation in her tone, the same as Ekko's: " Why did you even come to the undercity?" 

I didn't ask for any of this ! Was the only cheap response his mind could summon.

He dreamt of the council chambers painted in blood and somehow he knew it was his fault. Caitlyn wept blood and tears in turns over the body of her mother. He dreamt of his machines coming to life, amalgamating into something humanoid and sinister as they chased him through the streets of Piltover. Though he could run, there was no joy in it. And both cities were burning in his dreams, roiling with hatred, ensconced in a war of attrition. 

In his sleeping world, thousands of eyes were always fixed on him with no respite, he was always falling from the balconies and the skies, hurtling towards a yawning black pit. Jayce woke gasping for air and bleeding from his nose before he hit the bottom but the despair lingered. Some nights he genuinely weighed the cost of running through the next day on no sleep instead of having to face whatever horrible images his sleeping mind would summon.

The worst of the apparitions, as always, featured Viktor.

He leapt from the ramparts of Piltover or bled from under his skin. Darkness swallowed him into nothingness or his body crumbled to powder as Jayce reached out to touch him. There were nightmares where Jayce had no control of his body and stalked to hurt his dear bloomer, Viktor's tears over the betrayal spearing Jayce in the heart.

The most recent apparition was simple, yet haunting. Viktor was staring up at him with thinly veiled contempt as he pushed Jayce away. Leaving . "You promised me, Jayce." He had broken Viktor's faith, broken his heart—what had he done? He opened his arms only to have Viktor lurch back. "I don't...recognize you."

Jayce cried until there was blood in his throat but Viktor turned away, no pity, recognition, or love in his wide amber eyes.

Jayce screamed until it woke him from sleep and he sat up with the instant feeling of having to vomit. “ Jayce !” Viktor’s voice was sharp with distress as Jayce stumbled from the bed and nearly crashed to the floor thanks to the searing pain that rippled up his leg. He fell to his knees on the tile of the bathroom floor just before the contents of his previous meals surged up into the toilet. 

It was violent enough to have him shaking, sweating, bleeding from both nostrils, likely bursting blood vessels in the whites of his eyes. The cool porcelain of the bowl was a balm and he whimpered slightly as Viktor’s hands gauged the temperature of his forehead.

“Jayce, are you—?”

“I’m sorry—so sorry!” Jayce gasped in between bouts of heaving, “...woke you up…” He knew how peaceful Viktor was when he was asleep and hated to have been the cause for such a rude awakening. Selfishly, Jayce was glad his bloomer was here, with him, devoid of any simmering hatred .

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Viktor scoffed over the sound of running water. A wet towel brushed the sweat from Jayce’s face and he took it once the retching slowed. “Is it…the nightmares again? They’re more frequent. Did you dream of me?”

Astute little thing. Jayce adored him, even though the recollections were sickening .

"You asked me," Jayce gasped a hollow laugh in between wiping the strings of saliva and bile from his mouth, "what I would do if you couldn't remember me." He squeezed Viktor's hand hoping the universe itself could feel his sincerity. "Gods help me V, now...I don't think I could bear it." 

“You dreamt I didn’t remember you?”

The tears brimmed over in spite of how he tried to hold them back and Viktor, uncaring of the tears, spit, and blood seeping into his pajama shirt, pulled Jayce against his slender chest. Jayce held him as tightly as he dared and gasped out the blurry details of his nightmares. “Y-you hated me, V. I could…tell. There was no affection, no recognition…I don’t understand why I keep…getting tortured by all of this! E-Even though it’s…only a dream, I’m so tired, V.”

Viktor held him, smoothing his hair back from his face before wiping his nose and mouth dry. “You need to rest. I’ll get water.” 

Viktor guided him back to bed and Jayce watched Viktor like a hawk as he limped off in search of a clean glass. “Come here,” Jayce begged after sipping enough water to clean away the lingering taste of bile. “I keep waking you…you need the sleep more than me.” But Viktor didn’t settle until Jayce did, his fingers tracing numerical patterns across Jayce’s face. “V…thank you.”

“Rest, Jayce.” He commanded as he placed his palm over Jayce’s eyes. “Just…rest.” 

The silky, alive feeling of Viktor’s skin, his loving touch lulling Jayce to sleep better than any chemical compound could. The real, tangible love banished all illusions from his nightmares. “Viktor. I love you.” It did feel like enough. He couldn’t encapsulate how he felt in words.

Viktor’s response was a cool whisper against his ear. “Jayce. If it calms your dreams: I loved you long before you think I did.” It did bring an exhausted smile to Jayce’s mouth as he let himself drift back to sleep. “Jayce. I’m…so sorry.” The murmur came when he was too far gone to wake back up.

He wanted to ask Viktor when exactly he had fallen in love. He wanted to ask why Viktor was sorry.

But there was no chance.

When he woke up to the seven a.m. bells in Piltover, Viktor was gone from his bed.

Chapter Text

“Mr. Talis?” The hesitant voice and the accompanying knock on glass roused Jayce from unsettling dreams into a waking nightmare. “Mr. Talis, you’re in there…right? Are you…alive?” No one in Zaun had ever called him ‘Mr. Talis’; whoever was outside must have been incredibly worried.

“I’m alive.” He mumbled, dragging his hands down in his face in a feeling like sandpaper on his skin. He was alive…even if he wished he wasn’t. “Give me a minute.”

He padded the length of Viktor’s greenhouse and opened the door to find Powder staring up at him as if she’d come expecting to find a body. Her striking blue hair was loose and her dress was covered in a thousand shades of paint and oil and chalk; with the rays of morning light behind her, she looked so dazzlingly alive—as beautiful and as foreign to him as the teardrop gem he’d received in the snow all those years ago. The one he’d dropped into the Piltover canal. He didn’t think to wonder why she’d known where to look for him. Surely everyone in Zaun had some idea after the tear he’d been on.

Viktor had been missing for nearly a month and every day without word or sight of him drained a little more of Jayce’s soul.

The first week he had cancelled all of his appointments on short notice and slept very little as he walked the length and breadth of Zaun, looking for his bloomer. The first few nights he’d gone back to his apartment but he’d taken to sleeping in several locations after he’d encountered no leads. He’d slept in any place Viktor had mentioned as important—under the bridge to Piltover, outside Viktor’s childhood home, even once in the burnt out remnants of the lab in the cave—but he had taken to camping out in the greenhouse for two reasons. Firstly, it smelled of Viktor, his presence baked into the metal and glass after so many years living there. Secondly, Viktor had been there at least once, as all of his notebooks had been taken.

When it became obvious that no one in Zaun had seen Viktor recently, Jayce had contacted Caitlyn. It was a long shot, but it was somewhere difficult for him to search. He’d even gone to search his old apartment, Vi’s memorial, and wept onto the bare floorboards as he waited for news. Cait and Fiora had come back empty handed, Cait looking over at him desperately as she swore to pull every string in her arsenal to locate Viktor if he was still in the city.

Her words, meant to comfort him, had actually inspired new dread in Jayce. It hadn’t occurred to him that Viktor might have fled Zaun and Piltover altogether and the vast territories of Demacia, Ionia, Noxus all yawned open before him in endless miles. Viktor would be all but lost to him. 

The worry, the walking, and the lack of sleep and food took its toll.

He was losing weight too quickly, judging by the notches he’d taken up on his work belt, and his skin felt stretched thin on the muscles that remained. He’d neglected his hair and beard, and both had taken full advantage; on the rare occasion he noticed anything other than where Viktor might be, his reflection caught him by surprise. He looked like he was on his way to a withering death.

As a last-ditch attempt, Jayce went to the bar and crossed a line he’d been nervous to approach up until he met Viktor. His love and concern for Viktor far outweighed any of his lingering fear. 

Silco seemed surprised to see Jayce as he trudged into the man’s office for the first time. “Talis. You look like hell.”

“Is he here?” Jayce ignored the greeting and cut straight to what plagued him without preamble. He looked around Silco’s office, hoping that he might see some sign of Viktor’s presence—a flower, the scent of rich earth, even the soothing, gentle air that Viktor seemed to leave in his wake. “He’s not in any of his usual places and y-you’re the most powerful man in Zaun. If anyone would know where he is or keep him so well hidden then…it would be you.”

Silco stared at him with a blank, level expression and Jayce didn’t look away. Normally he would fold under the man’s scrutiny but this was all borne of desperation to find Viktor. Silco had to know , Jayce felt it in his heart. Silco broke first and sighed.

“Sit down.” Jayce watched as he reached into one of his desk drawers and pulled out a pre-cut cigar, lighting it and taking a leisurely breath before noticing Jayce hadn’t obeyed. “ Please .” It was the first time Silco had added any sort of courtesy to his orders and Jayce begrudgingly came to settle down in the guest chair opposite Silco’s. He felt bone-tired as Silco blew the spiced smoke into the air. “It’s a terrible habit. Vander gives me hell for the smoking even though I’ve caught him with his pipe when the going gets tough. I suppose we’re too similar in that regard. I think you and Viktor suffer from the same affliction.”

“We run to you when there’s nowhere left to turn?” Jayce asked. He could still remember the exact clothes Silco had been wearing the night he’d come to Zaun, right down to the leather shoes he’d knelt in front of.

“Amongst other things.” The smoke curled and twisted in front of his face, obscuring his expression. “You both keep secrets.”

“I know.” Jayce felt a rush of indignation—the first hot, lively emotion he’d felt in weeks—before depression took hold again. “I know…he…didn’t tell me what was bothering him. I was…trying to be patient.” He dragged his hand down his face again, acutely aware that Silco was watching him. 

“He never told me either.” Silco’s admission was somewhat soothing to Jayce’s anguish and his irrational jealousy. “I had my suspicions of course but, all I know is he seems to have an uncanny prescience with certain matters. It sets people at ease and unsettles them at the same time.” He blew lazy tendrils of smoke from the corner of his lips. “He was never one to get close…aside from you. Never in a thousand years did I think he would truly befriend or fall in love with anyone. And yet…here we are.”

Viktor, close and warm. Viktor loved him, it was clear to see.

“Then…why did he leave me?” It hurt, damn it, even though he still loved Viktor intensely. 

“That I don’t know. What I can assure you is that he’s alive—I would have heard to the contrary. Perhaps there are some things he just can’t face yet.” He looked up and his gaze said it all: you finally went back to face your sins; let him face his. Jayce had seen the unopened letter in Vi’s memorial, the script spidery and elegant from where Silco had made his pilgrimage.

“I would have…stood by him. No matter what it was.” The feeling of abandonment was still sharp and acrid in his chest but Silco wasn’t giving anything away.

“I believe you. But the scars run deep here.” He shook his head thoughtfully. “Some of us…don’t know when to walk away and the rest of us only know how to run. Hopefully the next generation doesn’t have to choose between them like we did.” 

There was no question of Silco’s choice in the matter or his tenacity. He stood and fought for Zaun, no matter how thankless the work was.

“Viktor runs…”

Silco stared at Jayce through the smoke. “I fear I know less than you in most regards to that dear boy. I’m not sure I’d call it ‘running’, though; I think there’s something he feels he needs to atone for.”

The feeling of defeat was strong in Jayce’s chest; his last lead dashed and his confidence in Viktor’s trust in him shattered, he stood in sudden desperation to leave the claustrophobic office. “I should—if you hear from him…” It was a futile endeavor. As if the man would sell out one of his own for the heartbroken Piltie who’d killed his daughter. He was utterly alone in his search and the fight had been knocked out of him one too many times. “Excuse me.”

“Jayce,” Jayce’s hand was gripping the knob of Silco’s office door when Silco spoke up again, his tone shockingly gentle, “Your oath to us, to Zaun—”

He was feeling numb enough that it translated to audacity as he interrupted Silco. “I haven’t forgotten it. Every day I remember.”

“By proxy you swore to Viktor.” Jayce startled as Silco patted him softly on the center of his back. Never once had the man touched him and…in a strange way it was comforting. “Live. For him as well.”

The words stuck in his throat but he nodded in assent before leaving Silco’s office.

Clearly the man could see that he was holding on by a fraying thread. The only thing keeping him in Zaun, keeping him alive and away from a spiral of hopelessness—aside from the reminder from Silco and his stubborn love for Viktor—was his commitment to the kids he was mentoring.

The Distinguished Innovator’s Competition was in a week and they all had a very real shot at recognition—a spot in the Academy, at the very least. He wouldn’t have a hand in dashing their dreams. And Viktor had thought he’d make an admirable teacher. He’d been so happy poring over the schematics together. Jayce wouldn’t let him down.

“Come on in,” He sighed, dragging his hand down his face again in hopes of waking himself up. It didn’t help in the slightest. “Last minute checks? Heimerdinger not around?” The professor still had some obligations in Piltover and he was happy to step in if she and Ekko needed help with their mystery project.

There was no response and, when he glanced back, he saw the familiar look in her eye. The kids in Zaun grew up fast and they knew the symptoms of someone about to lose control. Jayce sighed and waited for the inevitable questions. 

Powder touched the blue-glass mobiles that Viktor had strung from his ceiling before turning to look at the rest of the room. Of her siblings, she’d always had the most tact. “It’s been a while since I last came here. I used to come all the time as a kid ‘cause Viktor—the bloomer—he was one of the only ones who seemed to know how things worked with my machines. Would make ‘em work even when I wanted to break them in half. ‘You have much to offer this city, Powder,’” Her impression of Viktor’s accent was uncanny and Jayce broke a small smile for the first time in weeks. 

“You…haven’t seen him, have you?” Jayce asked. Like any kid born and bred in Zaun, Powder knew most hidden nooks in the city that he wouldn’t think to check.

“I wouldn’t torture you like that.” He could see she was nervously chewing on the inside of her cheek. “Who knows what you mad scientists will do? More trouble than they’re worth sometimes. But I wouldn’t hold back on you.” 

He believed her. She understood the hurt of having to live on the days when death seemed like freedom, like sweet sleep away from all the waking nightmares.

“How’s Ekko?” Jayce asked when he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Mmm,” Powder scuffed her boots against the floors and twisted her lips, “Still weird—I mean, weirder than he was before. Real prickly and a lot quieter. Wanders the city for hours like he’s never seen it before, hangs around Benzo like it’s going out of style, stares at me when he thinks I’m not looking.” In spite of her concern, fondness suffused her tone. “I can still tell that he likes me but…sometimes he looks like he’s afraid of me too. Like I’ll hurt him somehow. If that makes any fucking sense.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Jayce murmured. Viktor had looked much the same when he’d begged Jayce to promise him something unknown. 

“It’s good you brought him up though.” She hoisted herself up onto the lip of the fountain in the center of the greenhouse and began to walk the edge while Viktor’s plants caressed her sides. “Apparently he had a vision of Vi in his dreams and uh…painted it for me. It got me thinking,” Jayce held his breath; he was always afraid when this topic came up around Powder. He could still hear her screams with sickening clarity, “that she never really understood all of mine and Ekko’s love for inventing but she tried to pretend she loved it too. She really didn’t want me to quit. And look at me now,” spreading her arms as if she was going to fly with the beloved plants behind her, “gonna have my name in the biggest competition in Piltover. And I want her there with me.”

In that split second, Jayce thought perhaps it would have been better if he’d gone back on his oath to Silco. The most worthless he’d ever felt, he dropped his head and fisted his hands in his clothes. “Powder, I—”

He didn’t hear her hop down from the fountain. Her cool fingers touched his knuckles and he looked up to find her staring fondly at the tattoo on his calf.

“We’re having a party two days before the competition; will you bring sis? For me?” 

There was a part of Vi’s spirit that had stayed with everyone who’d seen her that terrible day. From her siblings keeping her memory alive to Jayce who was living on her behalf, even to that Marcus fellow, the enforcer who’d gone mad and been the first of the Pilties to side with Zaun. Jayce would bring the part that was lodged in him, inked in his skin.

He ruffled her blue hair, this time taking care not to ruin the overall look. “You and your brothers want me around in this state?”

“They’ve got a betting pool running,” Powder admitted, “on whether or not you’ll run. Not Ekko but…some of the others around. I don’t think their hearts are really in it though. They’re all worried.”

Jayce found that he was too despondent to be offended. “What did you put your money on?”

She arched one eyebrow. “You have some insider knowledge?”

“If there’s a pool running on whether or not I’ll show up to the party, put your money on me coming.”

Her pretty, elfin face lit up and Jayce nearly gasped in surprise as she launched forward to give him a quick hug. “I’ll hold you to it. Thanks.” Victorious, she stepped back up on the fountain, embracing one of the giant leaves. Viktor loved the plants so…Jayce had been taking such good care of them. “And you have to come to the competition too. So Vi can see. Promise?” Jayce remembered Viktor on the verge of tears, begging him to swear, to promise—and he nodded silently. The promises were enough to keep him alive for one more week, at the very least. 

In spite of how he longed to go out and continue to look for his bloomer, Jayce had promised Powder to come to the celebration. He’d killed her sister in the same pursuit years ago; it was the least he could do, even if his heart wasn’t in it.

His apartment was a mausoleum of a more joyous life, much the same as his old apartment in Piltover, and Jayce thought about blasting a hole through it. He couldn’t bear to be inside without Viktor. He spared a soft touch and a bit of water for the plants in his window box but everything else could burn. It took him most of the afternoon to shower, clean up his facial hair, and dress in his nicest clothes but when he looked at himself in the mirror, he looked a little more like himself. Haunted, exhausted, and gaunt, but living and breathing still. 

Live, you bastard. Live. For her. And for Viktor. He might still…love you . 

Jayce dropped his head into his hands and took shallow breaths until the ache in his chest went away. It was getting more and more difficult to remember how to live. 

He felt disconnected as he walked the familiar streets back down to the Last Drop. 

Where it had all started. Where Vi and her siblings had created their plans to rob him. Where he’d knelt on the cobblestones, ready to die with his neck exposed. Where he’d first seen Viktor.

The people of Zaun, as usual, needed no excuse for a celebration and were out in droves at the night market stalls, fairy lights festooned from the street lamps and ‘fireworks’ of colored powder being set off from the rooftops. In addition, the kids of Zaun had been busy with their own whirring inventions: miniature models of the the vehicles that sped around the streets of Piltover bumped unevenly around the winding streets, brass filaments were clumsily cobbled together with machinery and thin green glass to create mechanical facsimiles of firelights, and small copies of the dirigibles that bobbed above Piltover were attached above the buildings of Zaun with long kite strings. There were a few floating serenely above the bar with Powder’s trademark neon drawings scribbled onto the sides.

The bar seemed as though it was about to burst at the seams. A pulsing star, the music and laughter could be heard from across the block as people ducked in and out. Jayce was again struck by the feeling of not belonging—not Zaunite, desperately unhappy, and stuck in his own heart as the world seemed to progress smoothly around him. 

He thought about leaving but he could not shake the image of Powder’s wide eyes and her plea that he bring Vi to the party. He forced himself to carry on.

Even at his height and obvious scruffiness, Jayce was able to blend into the throng of guests, simply due to sheer numbers. It was a pretty picture, even to someone like Jayce who felt very little aside from an aching numbness. 

Gert and her band were playing live music, the gleaming jukebox taking over when they took an infrequent break, and Vander mixed drinks deftly to the beat. They were all so vibrant and alive. To his shock, people came up to him with drinks and food, plying him as they wished the best for his students in the competition tomorrow. 

His neighbors, the people who commissioned jobs for him, neighborhood kids who gently teased him for his hitch-step and his ‘posh’ Piltie manners all came up to him to congratulate him and probe to see if he was accepting students for the following year. Tactfully, they didn’t bring up Viktor or the jobs he’d abandoned in the past month. Sevika and Renni, two of Silco’s barons, approached him and teased his lack of social niceties lightly in that stone-faced, Zaunite way that had taken him years to get used to. He did feel a twinge of something like shock as Renni gingerly mentioned her own son—still young, in primaries—who had shown a burgeoning interest in chemical engineering and could use a talented mentor.

“Send him my way.” Jayce said, full well knowing how foolish the promise was. Would he be in Zaun for much longer if it seemed Viktor had fled Runeterra? Would he still have a will to live after having his dreams destroyed over and over. 

Claggor embraced him when Jayce encountered him in the crowd, his thanks half-drowned by the music, though Jayce did catch the boy smiling down at his leg. “Powder will be so happy you came and brought Vi along. She didn’t think you’d make it.”

It was almost as if they…cared about him, as if he hadn’t killed their girl. 

“It’s your day too, kid. Speaking of, where’s your sister?” He’d seen some of his other students in the crowd or on the dance floor, while Ekko was perched by the bar talking with Benzo and Vander. He hadn’t seen Powder or Heimerdinger. Or Viktor .

“Still getting ready, I’ll bet.” Claggor shrugged. “She said she wanted to make an entrance and it will take time to scrub off all that axle grease and the paint and the—”

“Got it.” Jayce clapped him on shoulder and Claggor returned the favor before rejoining with Mylo. Jayce faded back to the corners he preferred and watched the party continue from a distance. From his vantage point, he was one of the first to notice as Powder joined the fray.

Her gleaming white dress was brand new, if only judging by how there wasn’t a speck of paint on the fabric, and her hair was loose to her shoulders, giving her a lovely, youthful look. Jayce’s leg flooded with warmth as if the remnants of Vi’s spirit swelled with pride on seeing her sister so happy and beautiful.

A compass to true north, the crowd seemed to part around Powder as she walked towards Ekko and led him over to the dance floor. 

In spite of the changes to Ekko’s personality, no one could doubt how much he loved Powder. His eyes never left her as she danced in and out of his arms in the center of the room, her white skirts whirling around her. So youthful and carefree and happy, so lost in each other that the world seemed to fade into a blur of light and music around them, Jayce smiled.

He wondered if Viktor would have danced with him. If either of them could ever look so delighted and free once all their secrets were laid bare. Would he ever see his bloomer again? The happiness curdled in his stomach.

He had to leave. He didn’t belong there.

With the song finished and Powder pulling Ekko from the throng that made up their family, Jayce unobtrusively picked his way through the joyous, dancing crowd and out of the bar. His body wilted on the front stoop until his head was between his knees and he tried to…to stop thinking and simply breathe. 

Curling up on himself, Jayce sat motionless for the better part of an hour until his body began to cramp and his breathing didn’t shudder up through his shoulders. Time to go home . 

He was fully ready to walk back to the elevator that would take him down to the Nautilus Fissure when something stopped him. A premonition or some faint sensory scrap carried by the wind…in all likelihood, he simply knew the feeling of having Viktor’s presence close by. His heart leapt into his throat as he began to follow the instinct like a man possessed.

It didn’t surprise him at all, when he peered around the corner of the bar into the alley opposite the local elevator, to find Viktor perched on the empty crates that Vander had stacked outside. Jayce was hit with a rush of helpless love, like a bolt to the chest.

It wasn’t a hallucination or the onset of one of his torturous dreams; this was Viktor, living and breathing. His hair was a little longer, his body thinner and paler—if such a thing was possible—his blue robe draped over his head like a cowl, but Jayce would never mistake him. He knew every physical inch of the man better than any other subject on earth.

Viktor was staring in the window of the bar with a small, sad smile, as the love warred with the knowledge that he too would always remain on the outside looking in. It was the emotion Jayce felt in his heart, reflected onto Viktor’s beloved face. A perfect mirror of each other.

For a moment the deep, powerful love Jayce felt for his bloomer drowned out his pain. “Viktor,” the name slipped from him before he could help it and he saw Viktor freeze.

Jayce swore he saw Viktor thinking about fleeing but he must have known that Jayce would catch him. Nothing to do but stand and face what he’d done. His movements were liquid smooth as he slipped down from the crates and closed his eyes for a long moment. Even though he felt sick enough to vomit acid, Jayce couldn’t help but think of how lovely the man was.

“Jayce.”

“ Why ?” Jayce hissed. The more pressing question was where Viktor had been but his pained anger was too hot for rational thought. “Why did you go—why did you leave me Viktor? Without a word!” 

“I had to.” His voice was a terrified whisper. “I couldn’t stay. I had to…protect you.”

“Is it something I did?” His anger was bordering on the hysterical. “Did I hurt you, V? Is someone keeping you away?” Jayce nearly choked on the thought. He knew how haunting it was to be responsible for someone’s death but if anything could drive him to do it purposefully, it would be in Viktor’s defense. “ Why —”

“It’s nothing you or anyone else has done. I was selfish and I never should have—”

“Why, V?”

“I thought it would soften the blow if I—”

“Why?”

“You won’t understand, Jayce. It won’t make any sense!” There was a bit of fire in his response now and Jayce rose to the bait.

“Make me understand, then!”

“I-I couldn’t! I tried but,” Viktor’s hands were shaking as he held them defensively in front of his chest, “nothing worked! And I knew I had to leave you or it would break your heart, and I had to do it without saying anything because if anyone could convince me to stay, it would be y-you.”

There were still more questions than answers and Jayce’s body felt as though it was swelling with all the emotion that had been absent the past month. “Tell me why, Viktor. Why did you leave? I’ll believe whatever you say.”

Viktor glanced up at Jayce and then at the moon, calculations running behind the fathoms of his eyes. “It would be…so much easier if you…let me go.” 

“I love you,” it was just as much of an accusation as if he had spoken of love in the past tense; gods, he couldn’t even deny it to hurt Viktor now: Jayce still loved the man. “Do you think it’s so easy to turn your back on someone who…who doesn’t deserve salvation? T-To cling to me and have me promise you when you…knew the pain I feel when you’re not in my arms?” The tears welled up with the anger and love; life had given him such agony to bear but never had it been so bitter coming from the man he loved most. His eyes spilled over as he shouted at Viktor for the first time, “I never a-asked for this!”

Viktor turned his cheek as if the words had physically hit him and Jayce saw, with a squeeze of his heart, that his bloomer was crying silently as well. His response was quiet and filled with old regret. “You never did. The first time…I never should have gone. I shouldn’t have left your side but there’s always a choice and I…always seem to choose wrong. This time, I thought I’d try to spare you.”

“Tell me,” Jayce insisted and his voice came out gentle. “And once I believe you, then you can decide if you want me to let you go.”

Viktor’s shoulders drooped underneath his blue robe as he gave in. It was love; he always seemed to give in to Jayce. “It’s Ekko’s project. The one he’s been working on with Heimerdinger and Powder. They’re going to…create magic.”

Jayce felt his mouth drop open slightly, chilling his bones as he recognized the familiar thesis from his days as a competition hopeful. Would Ekko make the same mistakes? He thought of how happy the boy had looked with Powder, how devastating it would be to lose either one of them. How could he do it without the necessary power source? Was it Benzo? Had Ekko seen Jayce’s notes in the apartment? 

“We have to stop them.”

“It’s too late to stop them. We can’t interfere. And besides…it will only affect the three of us who truly know why we shouldn’t interfere.” 

“Heimerdinger, Ekko, and Powder?”

“No. Heimerdinger, Ekko…and me.” Viktor’s voice was as hollow and flat as he sounded in the worst of Jayce’s nightmares. “In a moment, completely out of our control, a switch will flip and…I fear I may disappear. If not my body, then my mind. You said…you couldn’t bear the thought of me not remembering you.” The emotion was gone from his voice because it had all been trapped in the honey depths of his eyes. “I didn’t want to hurt you any more.”

“Viktor,” Jayce had no idea what sort of calamity Viktor feared was approaching but… “Even if what you say is true, I’m not letting you go alone.”

“I have no choice. We have no choice.”

“You’re wrong.” Jayce shot back, his anger at Viktor suddenly directed at the…the thing that haunted him for so long. “There’s always a choice and you made yours tonight when you…when you wanted me to find you.” Viktor opened his mouth to deny it but Jayce interrupted. “No one in Zaun has seen you for weeks; do you know how skilled you have to be to hide from a city like this? And yet here you are, in the open, outside the bar—you wanted me to find you. Deny it. Admit that you n-never loved me and weren’t here so that I’d find you. Go on and deny it, V.”

Viktor wouldn’t be so cruel to toy with him. He was sweet…gentle…

His amber eyes were enormous, reflected with the oscillating rainbow lights from inside the bar. Jayce saw the naked truth in their depths and relief flooded his chest.

Before Viktor could protest, Jayce leapt across the distance to enfold his bloomer back in his arms. Viktor offered no resistance; in fact, he clung to Jayce like a lifeline and Jayce felt as though he could breathe properly for the first time in weeks. This was the natural state of things, two cogs in a machine that slotted perfectly together, he needed Viktor in order to live . 

There was no going back. 

He nuzzled his face into Viktor’s hair—only mildly displeased that the smell of flowers, earth, and Jayce’s shampoo had dwindled from his skin—and mapped the familiar lines of Viktor’s body through his blue robes. “You lost weight.” He murmured desperately.

“So did you,” Viktor sounded to be on the verge of tears. “Jayce, please—”

“We’re the same. Again.” Desperate, scrabbling, unable to thrive without one another. Jayce pulled back only enough so that he could see Viktor’s face. “I love you V. This time…even if you beg, I’m not giving in. I’m staying with you to the last.”

Viktor crumpled and Jayce held him up with ease, thank the gods for the strength in his upper body. His voice came out in a series of pained whimpers. “I have so much I want t-to tell you, Jayce. I wish we had more time! Always…more time. If only I hadn’t—”

“I believe you, V.” Jayce steeled his heart in preparation, praying to any gods in existence that Viktor would only lose his memories and not disappear entirely. “Now…believe in me. I’ll have you falling in love with me again.”

Viktor’s arms went around his neck, Jayce’s hands went to Viktor’s back and waist and their mouths crushed together. Right where they belonged . Every agony he’d suffered in the past month could be forgiven with kisses so sweet. He only stopped when Viktor pressed something cold into his palm.

“Just in case.”

Jayce looked down at his hand to see the blue teardrop that Viktor often wore dangling from his hip or around his wrist. He’d never gotten a good look at, what he’d assumed was, the bit of polished blue glass. Looking at the facets now in the low light, he now saw that something was carved onto its face. 

A rune . A similar symbol but not the same as the one on the gem he’d dropped into the canal years earlier. His breath caught in his throat as he remembered the solid weight of it against his hand. How did his bloomer have one too? “Viktor?”

There was no time for further mysteries.

Jayce felt it.

There was a pulse that rippled up from the earth as if the soil had suddenly dropped and then lifted back up below their feet. At first Jayce thought it was the beginning tremors of an earthquake and he stepped back slightly, spreading his feet apart to steady Viktor in case the shaking became more violent.

“V—” The words caught in his throat as he saw the tears pouring down Viktor’s cheeks. The foreboding set in. “Viktor?”

Viktor looked at him, drinking him down. “He’s done it. Ekko is…going to save them all. And us.”

Jayce wanted to hold him closer, to not let go until Viktor stopped speaking in riddles and confessed exactly what Ekko and Powder had built. Explained how he had come across the same arcane gem that Jayce had abandoned. But his chance didn’t come.

There was a sudden shockwave of blue light lurched up from the very seams of Zaun. The tangle of sewer pipes, the manhole covers, even the cracks in the sidewalk glowed from some unknown source before the light and sound was sucked backwards in a rush, leaving a vacuum that caused Jayce’s ears to ring. And everything went dark.

Whatever supernova had spawned beneath the sewers had leached the electricity from both Zaun and Piltover, causing a blackout to both skylines. For a moment, the pitch black enveloped him— death, dark as the water of the canal, the yawning pit where he jumped in his dreams —before his eyes adjusted to the light of the stars and the moon. “V…is it over? Are you still—”

He couldn’t finish his thought as the lights came back just as quickly as they’d gone out and a chorus of hundreds of thousands of people began clamoring in dismay from both banks of the river. Looking down at Viktor, Jayce found him staring at the streets, his hands trembling against Jayce’s chest.

“V—”

“This is all my fault. Jayce, you must—” He didn’t get to finish his thought. There was a sharp whistling sound, a brassy glint from the corner of Jayce’s eye, and then Viktor shoved him hard in the chest. Having stood for so long, Jayce’s leg gave out and he crumpled backwards with very little resistance just before something large and metallic slammed hard onto the side of the Last Drop and sent the old piping and air ducts crashing down to the street below.

Blasted by the dust and tiny bits of metal shrapnel, when Jayce finally sat up after shielding his head, it took him a moment to gain his bearings.

His ears were ringing, it felt as though someone had driven a spike through his temples, and his dizziness was so intense that he vomited what little was left in his stomach. It took him some time to realize that Viktor was no longer in view.. 

Then it was as if Viktor’s hand prints had been branded with molten metal on his chest. “Viktor!” He groaned as he attempted to kneel, despite the pain in his leg. He had to find his partner, his bloomer, his lover. Viktor. Something was haunting him. “V-Viktor!”

Jayce nearly threw up again when he realized. The model dirigible that had been floating serenely over the bar had likely had its mechanisms affected during the power surge. Hovering for a moment, gravity had taken hold of the metal hull and it had fallen like a stone. The solid weight had crashed into some of the old pipes that protruded from the side of the bar and the detritus had landed directly on top of where Viktor had been standing. His bloomer—if his body remained in the world—was buried beneath rubble and it was just like the explosion, Vi dead on the floor and Cassandra Kiramman with blood coming from her mouth. Jayce scrambled forward on his hands and knees, too horrified to make noise aside from a rattling gasp. 

Adrenaline was the only thing that kept him from feeling the pain as he hauled metal and chunks of concrete off the pile with his bare hands. It felt like hours had passed by the time he uncovered Viktor; Jayce’s hands were wet from sweat and blood from where he’d cut himself pushing away sharp bits of debris, but he hadn’t felt the sting of the wounds. He wept openly as his beloved partner was revealed, bit by bit.

It was a miracle he hadn’t been crushed.

Aside from a layer of dust and gravel, his body looked largely unscathed. He looked asleep, like in the safe, tender moments of repose in the mornings when Jayce could study his face as he liked. Jayce knew Viktor’s face from memory, from their first meeting when he’d been so imperious and yet…ready to believe in Jayce’s dreams. Jayce saw the scrapes on his cheek, the blood seeping down from his dark hair, and he didn’t hesitate. 

Just as he had after the explosion, Jayce lurched forward to sweep Viktor’s limp beloved body into his arms. This time he wouldn’t go to the lab; he swore he wouldn’t break faith and would take Viktor to a proper hospital. He’d be alright, he had to be ok . Jayce panted Viktor’s name with each breath as he ran in his limping hitch-step. His bones were intact, not like before. Jayce could feel the solid weight of them and not the pulp that had once been ribs and spine as he ran through the halls. His breathing was weak but it was there . Jayce wouldn’t fail him. Not this time.

“Viktor….Viktor…hang on…” 

Desperation rose to a fever pitch and it hit him. All the memories. All at once.

The mage in the snow. Hextech. Shimmer. Mel and Cait and Vi. Silco and Jinx. The explosion and the hexcore. Ekko and Heimerdinger and the wild rune in the gates. The porcelain creatures and the incoming war and the choice he’d had to make. And Viktor. Viktor adrift in that shimmering arcane landscape. They had been together, he’d chosen to stay with his partner, he couldn’t live without him…and then—

Jayce remembered it all, every bit of who he was in another life in a sensory flood that would have knocked him to his knees on any other occasion. The pain was intense enough that he screamed as he ran for Viktor’s life, down the streets of Zaun.

Chapter Text

They had been floating together in the astral expanse of the arcane, foreheads touching while their bodies were being pulled apart at the seams. Viktor had no idea where he was going to be taken but there was very little fear, even as tears were pulled from under his lashes.

He had lived with death all his life and come to close brushes with it twice in his adulthood. A third time seemed less daunting. Moreover, Jayce was staying with him.

There was not a thing in the world they couldn’t face down together.

Viktor felt the comforting heat of him, the strength of his hands and how they trembled on his skin. Viktor rubbed soothingly up the length of Jayce’s arm as the arcane forces whipped around them in the approximation of wind. Viktor could no longer broadcast his thoughts through the mental bond he’d tried to force on his partner but…he hoped the sentiment could be expressed through touch.

It’s ok. It will be alright, Jayce. It’s not so bad…and I’ll be with you the whole time. I won’t let you go.

The wind and light from the stone built to a fever pitch and Viktor felt his hold slipping on the thousands of minds he’d shepherded into his sway. He would miss these imperfect, hurting souls but…he had to let them go. Farewell , his last gentle message to their combined consciousness before the rune supernova collapsed on itself and Viktor and Jayce disappeared from the plane of existence.

It was a strange sensation.

His mind was definitely intact and he could feel his body even if he could no longer see it. At once he seemed to fill the space, his being poured into it like liquid, while also swirling disjointed in motes of stardust. He was filaments of thought, ephemeral as smoke, a celestial body, a vacuum of existence, intangible and yet still living in a dimension indescribable outside of the language of mathematics. And Jayce was still with him—connected to him, in him, around him, until Viktor didn’t know where he ended and Jayce began.

Viktor, do you know…where we are? Or what this is? His comforting voice glowed in the pit of Viktor’s essence. Are we alive?

I don’t know, Jayce. I truly don’t…

He’d only caught the most cursory glance of every timeline and every possibility, the memories blurring together in an incomprehensible ribbon. If this was amongst them, it would take him eons to pinpoint. He mostly wanted to stay completely still and bask in Jayce’s love for him. 

You love me . The words glowed pink in his neurons. Warmth bloomed up between the both of them and Viktor felt their fingers—the concept of their fingers—intertwining. Even with my legs, my spine, my lungs …

There was no hiding his thoughts from Jayce when every part of them seemed to be braided together. He felt Jayce’s smile like sunlight in his nerve endings, the emotion was an inescapable fact. I have all I ever wanted, Viktor . It was like coming home to the sole person who understood him and made him feel alive.

I’ve missed you .

It was something he’d come to realize after drawing those lost souls into his community. He cared about them, kept them safe and healthy, but there was no deeper connection than what he would feel with his plants or his mechanical creations. He missed Jayce. His friend, the mirror of his soul, the one person who was a true intellectual match and who cared for him when he was just some limping, undercity upstart who’d gotten a little lucky.

The real luck was that the Golden Boy of Piltover had a glowing, gentle spirit of the same color, more pure and beautiful than the gilded crown Piltover had thrust on him. And that–amongst some other chosen few–Jayce had opened that dazzling well of tenderness and love to Viktor.

How could Viktor not have fallen in love with such a man? At once strong and vulnerable, blindingly intelligent and frequently oblivious, hot-headed and patient, he was as compelling a creature as any one of the forces they’d meddled with. 

Viktor . Jayce’s lips—the feeling of them, the concept of them—drifted up the evanescent line of Viktor’s nose, coming to rest on his forehead. He didn’t need to say anything else; Viktor could feel the love coming from the furnace-golden heart of Jayce’s being, more poignant than words. Viktor .

He draped around Viktor like a mantle, like the blanket he’d rested on Viktor’s shoulders so long ago, and they held each other close. Beyond time and space, they could determine where they were after coming to know each other down to their infinitesimal cellular building blocks. Viktor could feel Jayce’s pleasure in the idea.

It felt as if a mixture of a few seconds and several millennia had passed when Viktor felt the presence of a foreign body intruding on the arcane cradle they’d been suspended in.

Do you feel it? Jayce’s entity curled tightly around him and Viktor held him close.

I do . 

It bobbed in a lazy indigo halo on the fringes of his consciousness, not human and yet…still sentient. It seemed remarkably familiar and Viktor was on the cusp of remembering where he’d encountered such an entity before, when the being spoke—or, in a more apt description, transmitted thought the same way electricity traveled along a network of connected nerve endings—and he recognized the ‘voice’.

So. You have set things to rights . 

It was a voice he’d heard from the moment Jayce had merged his physical body with the hexcore—no, even before then. He’d heard it when they’d stabilized the hex gems, when he was carving the runes into the plate metal and later into his skin. It had been a whisper only he’d been able to hear.

Once he’d become more mechanical than human, the voice had taken on a perfect mimicry of Sky Young. But now it was difficult to parse out a single tone amongst thousands. Men, women, children, the elderly, every accent conceivable, and some very familiar. He swore he heard Silco, the man Jayce had tried to treat with, and Vander, the man Viktor had tried to save, his mother and father, Sky, countless others in a split second of recognition before it was replaced by another. It was, as always, intriguing, beautiful, and mildly frightening. Viktor curled closer against the essence of Jayce in response, unsure if the entity was malevolent.

If the thing could laugh, it might have. Violence follows the desperate desire for freedom. What remains is up to those who are left . 

The hexcore, Jayce realized their newest companion’s identity, though whether it was a rune, a spirit, a god, or something else entirely was unknown. 

A hexcore , Viktor amended. It was not the same one that had seduced him to domination. The boy—snapshots of memory from thousands he’d touched rushed Viktor’s memory: the boy savior, our Leader, Little Man, love him, loved him —had thrown another core at him, one that should not have existed. Or the gem that had glowed hot and bright in his wrist. Are we…in you? Or the spirit realm?

The moment he mentioned it, Jayce’s memories flooded with unfettered excitement across their bond. He’d learned of the realm during his days of studying illicit magicks and catalogued the facts with childlike wonder. A place where time and space function outside the rules of Runeterra. Some scholars in Ionia hypothesize that it’s the source of magic, only accessible by the extremely powerful or the…dead. Are we dead then? Or have we become magic? Is that what becomes of souls who’ve passed on is that they’re recycled back into the power of the runes? Or is it—

Viktor felt awash in his love for Jayce. Oh, how he’d missed this stubborn curiosity, this thirst for knowledge that seemed to alarm everyone who was exposed to its intensity. Not Viktor. His hunger outpaced Jayce’s as it was driven by something more primal: desperation.

You’re an inquisitive one , if such a mystic force could express wry humor, this tone was the closest thing to it, You’re trouble. Both of you are. But you’re not dead .  

You wish to…join us? Viktor recoiled briefly at the thought. Only a select few had ever tried to understand him. Jayce was the only one he could bear to allow this level of intimacy.

No. But you have set things to rights. We would offer you a choice . That had been a historic weakness of his and Jayce’s, with every choice linking in a daisy chain to doom and catastrophe. In return for your rescue of Piltover and Zaun .

Just the mention of Zaun—the undercity, colloquially—had Viktor’s heart aching. He had wanted so badly to bring honest, lasting change to the place that had been so cruelly brought to heel. If only he knew then what he knew now…

Moreover, his choices had caused both nations the loss of Jayce, one of the most brilliant men to walk the face of Runeterra. If only—

Choose wisely , the hexcore cautioned but it came a split second too late.

Jayce too was reminiscing of the life they’d left behind— his mother —and they kept true to what Viktor realized the moment they’d separated from each other: he and Jayce were each other’s greatest weakness. They ‘spoke’ at the same time, clearly thinking of nothing but their partner.

I want to be with Viktor , Jayce demanded at the same time as Viktor begged, Give us a chance to try again.

Almost immediately, Viktor realized that he might have misspoken. 

There was a swell of power, similar to what he’d felt when his hexcore had wrapped around his bloody wrist and yanked him forward. The malevolence wasn’t there now but there was now a feeling of judgment for the two men who had so drastically altered the world and played with powers beyond their comprehension.

A scientist who doesn’t learn from his mistakes. The indigo glow became brighter, growing closer as its circumference grew in size and Viktor had a sudden flare of fear in his chest. You’ll have what you wish: a new world to enter together, though your struggles will be…different. A gift and a punishment for your overreach. Let us hope that this time is a better tutor. 

The light loomed so close that it dyed Jayce’s golden spirit purple, filling up the space to such an extent that something had to give. When everything felt as though it would burst at the seams, Viktor looked over to Jayce and found him…there.

No longer an essence or a metaphysical connection of thoughts and feelings, it was just Jayce, hovering in place with his fingers twined through Viktor’s. His body was whole and healthy, his face youthful in the way Viktor remembered from their happiest days, and even though Viktor could no longer hear his thoughts and feelings, it was good to have Jayce back like this. His hazel eyes were wide as he looked Viktor up and down and he was about to smile.

Then there was a feeling like a hook behind Viktor’s navel.

He was yanked backwards into a helix of blue-violet, falling down some pit, which was terrifying enough. But the true horror was hearing his own name called out in a gut-wrenching scream in their space between time and magic. Jayce . His fingers had slipped through Viktor’s, the other half of him torn away with devastating speed, and he was falling…falling…

“Viktor?” 

Viktor woke with a start from where his head had been pillowed on his arm and would have fallen backwards, if not for a steadying hand on his back. The smell was the first thing that hit him: a nostalgic, queasy blend of cheap cleaner, old wood, sea salt, and the fetid smell of mining gases that seeped up from every crack in the fissures. It was a smell that permeated every memory of his childhood and one he hadn’t encountered in over a decade. 

His nose wrinkled with the chemical burn of it and he rubbed his nostrils with the frayed fabric of his sleeve. He was halfway to having his nose stop tingling when he felt someone plant a kiss on his forehead.

Viktor froze and looked back to see his mother smiling down at him. 

It had been so long. From his mother, he had gotten the angular cut of his jaw, his slender build, and his thick, wavy hair. She had also suffered from a similar affliction that had brought him to death’s door and it had taken her by the lungs and throat not long after he’d been officially instated as Heimerdinger’s assistant. He felt his bottom lip trembling as he looked her over and launched himself into her arms.

“Mama? Am I…still asleep?”

She chuckled and kissed his head again. “Shall I throw you in with the dishes? Give you a wash to wake you up?” She picked him up with a little effort and began dragging him towards their rickety kitchen in a common, hollow threat that always made him laugh.

But his joy was undercut with a feeling of hysteria as he compiled the facts.

His mother could lift him. His head only just reached her slim chest and his thin arms could barely encircle her back. He felt…short and small. His voice had not yet broken from puberty even though he had the memories and feelings of a fully grown man.

His mother didn’t fight as he wrestled free from her grasp and limped over to the bathroom so he could look in their cracked mirror.

It was as he feared.

The image that looked back at him was one he hadn’t seen in a decade or more. Round cheeked and wide eyed with curls that hadn’t yet mellowed into obedience, Viktor looked at his prepubescent face with growing shock. That certainly explained the changes in his vantage point as well as the very subtle ache in his hip—his leg and spine not yet ruined enough to be in complete pain.

He remembered visiting the doctor in Piltover once hextech had taken off, once he could afford the specialist’s fees. They’d told him that his bone growth during puberty had exacerbated the genetic disability and it was too late to fix anything in his twenties. 

He had time now…he knew the brace that was needed…he could mitigate the worst of the damage, avoid the gases and chemicals that had destroyed his lungs .

Cursed with the knowledge of thousands, Viktor tried to sift through all of his memories and recall the schematics of his back and leg brace. The strain was such that he felt a bit of blood dribble from his nose and he wiped it away with his sleeve, watching the boy in the mirror mimic the action. A waking nightmare .

“Mama,” the voice that came out was the small, quavering tone of a boy, debunking the illusion into fact, “how old am I today?”

His mother came to his side, coughing a little before she crouched down and nestled their cheeks together. “You’re thirteen, my sweet stranger. Almost full grown.” She meant it lovingly, as most mothers did when assuring their sons of their own importance. But Viktor had been a man, he was still fully grown in his mind with the deep, unsettling knowledge that he’d been sent backwards…or sideways by a force beyond comprehension. It settled cold in his gut.

Give us a chance to try again.

His wish haunted him and, for a moment, he wondered if all of it—hextech, the core, his transformation, his death, Jayce —had been a lucid dream. No! His mind rejected the hypothesis. 

What he’d experienced was real . The rune had done exactly as he’d asked and given him a chance to try again, starting from his youth. But he still had the memories of thirty-three years of life, the knowledge from his arcane fusion, and the overwhelming library of the countless souls who’d been fused with him. He’d been loved . 

Jayce loved him. 

In their cocoon, broken down to the bare essence of their souls, he had felt Jayce’s love and cupped it inside of himself. Even now he could touch the warm kernel of it that remained inside and felt the love flow through his small body. It was real , he had felt it all and he wouldn’t pass something so precious off as the fleeting dream of a child. 

He had to find Jayce.  

Jayce had been sent back as well to the boy Viktor had saved in ten thousand other lives. He had been to Jayce’s childhood home countless times, he knew the way there from memory alone, and he could reconnect with Jayce there. Viktor’s mind launched into overdrive as he thought of all the things they would need to do to mitigate future problems, including the issue of their memories. Children’s minds were elastic and capable of learning new skills at a speed that was lost in adulthood but it often came at the cost of some of their earliest memories. Already Viktor could feel the strain of trying to recall specific details with the mind of a young boy. 

He kissed his mother’s cheek before hobbling off to his room in search of the notebooks he received every year on his birthday, one of the few gifts his parents could afford. 

“Why are you in such a hurry?” His mother laughed softly. Viktor wasn’t able to answer as the sight of his childhood bedroom had knocked the wind out of him. All the little posters he’d gently peeled from the walls and tacked to his own, the outdated science books he’d collected—many of them missing covers or chunks of pages—and the primitive little inventions he’d cobbled together with spare or stolen parts. He seized the first notebook within arm’s reach and began scribbling frantically. 

He wrote the address of the Talis estate, did a quick calculation of Jayce’s age to make sure he was actually living in Piltover that year, and the measurements needed for corrections to his leg and back brace. Finally he made a short list of all the dates and events that had led to the creation of hextech and the beginning of the end. No matter what else he might forget over time, he would never forget the most important things so that they could make the changes he’d begged for.

The notebook and pen went into the hidden pocket sewn into the front of his shirt so that no pickpockets could take it from him unnoticed and he snatched the crutch he’d often been too prideful to use as a young teenager.

Fuck it. His adult mind was more practical. Spare the muscle and bone whenever you can . 

He came down to find his mother preparing a fish for later and she had to finish a coughing fit before smiling over her shoulder at him. “Are you going out to play with Sky?” 

“Mm,” he made a noncommittal noise that could have been a yes or a no as he thought of other adjustments he’d need to make in this new life. He couldn’t eat the poisoned fish from the canal but there were some places he knew in Piltover that threw out perfectly good student meals at the end of the day. He’d have to craft a filtration mask to save his lungs; he remembered reviewing some of the schematics from the academy library. Until then he’d have to sleep as close to Piltover as he could manage, maybe somewhere close to border bridges.

“Your father will be back after sunset so try to be back then so we can eat dinner together.” In spite of his desperation to see Jayce, Viktor indulged in one more embrace from his mother. “Be safe, my sweet boy. Keep to the bright spots and don’t go anywhere near the Seam.” 

“I won’t.” He promised. He knew well enough that the undercity was dangerous for children who could flee so it was doubly fraught for him. 

He was just about to leave when his mother called out again. “Oh, Viktor! Did you want to bring your jewel as well? You left it on the table.” She must have felt that she was indulging in his youthful make-believe as they scarcely had the money to feed themselves, much less keep jewels lying around.

However…when he glanced back at the table, there was a stone resting on the surface and glittering azure, like a drop of dark water.

Viktor knew it well. 

He’d been the one to set it in a leather bracelet for Jayce to wear on his wrist. His partner’s thumb had rubbed endless circles over the acceleration rune carved onto the face. Hell, Viktor had seen himself—a version of himself that was old and remorseful—through Jayce’s memory as Viktor had dropped it into Jayce’s gloved hands. Viktor knew the heat of it, the weight and the spirit of glowing in his hand as it sank into his body and fused with him.

More proof of another life . 

Jayce would be happy to have it back. “Thanks, mama.” In spite of how dangerous it was to carry valuables in the undercity, Viktor snatched it up and slipped it in next to the notebook.

His heartbeat was in his teeth as he left his family’s apartment and stepped back into the city of his memories. Over the droning hum of machinery, neon lights, and local conversation, he heard the whispers from something primeval; the same choir of voice that had enticed him to his commune and then offered him this ‘boon’ . 

He wasn’t free from it yet.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the ghostly footprints begin to materialize on the stones of the streets. Visible only to him, Viktor was aware of the temptation of fate and of the fatal choice he’d made in the past to follow them down to his first healing. They were leading away from Piltover, towards the mines.

Viktor…Viktor… he heard the call of that otherworldly voice and chose to ignore it.

It was a long walk back to Piltover but he had to find Jayce. His partner, the man he loved. They’d sworn to finish this together and Jayce’s only wish had been to be with Viktor. Viktor wouldn’t let him down now.

The border bridges were tightly monitored for anyone wanting to make the trip into the golden city of progress but anyone in Zaun worth their salt knew one or two ways to slip past the patrol in a pinch. 

Even Viktor’s best clothes would give him away as an undercity urchin but he kept to the alleys to avoid notice. It was a long walk to the Talis estate in New Piltover, the new expansion of the city, considered nouveau-riche and unfashionable by many of the families who lived in the city proper. It seemed to Viktor, after years of living in Piltover, that the favorite hobby of the wealthy was to see how deeply they could stratify society to exclude people.

On the last leg of the journey he was able to slip onto the front of a trolley and ride out the rest of the way to Jayce’s neighborhood and he was immediately hit with a rush of nostalgia.

The memories came in with vivid clarity: Jayce slowing his gait to keep pace so that they could walk side by side to the house, the smell of the strong coffee Ximena always brewed, the warm, honeyed feeling of being around Jayce and his mother as she fussed over the both of them, trying to cook even when they insisted they weren’t hungry. His second home, he had never felt as loved in Piltover as he did when he was inside the brick walls of the Talis home.

His plan began and ended at the front gates and Viktor began to fully appreciate the gaps in his plans. He had no idea of how to introduce himself without causing alarm and there was no way of knowing if Jayce was even home.

What if Jayce, reckless as ever, had woken up in his childhood body and rushed to the undercity to find Viktor? What if they’d missed each other?

Viktor felt the dread like nausea and he gripped the wrought iron bars of the gate with all the strength in his tiny body. Maybe he should have followed the unearthly footprints. Maybe they would lead to Jayce. Paralyzed by the decision in front of him, Viktor didn’t move and tried to determine the best course of action while fighting back the oncoming panic attack. Such a small body and mind would break if he allowed the stress to become too extreme…

He hadn’t yet made up his mind when the decision was made for him.

There was a flash of movement from the front of the house as the door swung inward and Viktor held his breath as a small figure appeared on the stoop. “Jayce,” he gasped.

Although Viktor had melded with the soul of the man, there was something that was soothing to him about seeing Jayce in the flesh again. He was shorter and pudgier, having yet to grow into the square jaw hidden beneath his sweet, round baby face, but Viktor knew it was him. The cheeky grin, the thick eyebrows, the shine of intelligence and sweetness in his hazel eyes were all the same. When his small hand lifted up to wave at Viktor, there was immediate relief.

Any problems arising from being sent back to their respective childhoods could be overcome as long as they were together. He and Jayce had made miracles together, abominations while they were apart; everything would be just fine once Jayce was with him again.

“Hi! Hi!” Jayce ran down the short length of the front path until he was on the other side of the fence and Viktor could reach through to grasp his chubby fingers. He was so warm. Even as a kid…the warmth of him was so addicting.

Viktor very nearly had tears spilling over as he spoke in rapid succession. “Jayce! Jayce, oh gods, it’s so good to see you. Have you been here long? No, it doesn’t matter. We have so much to go over but…the rune! It’s given us another chance to do right by Piltover and the undercity! If we plan out carefully, think of the exact dates and events that led us to that calamity, then we could potentially avoid everything that led us to…to…” His voice petered out when he saw the expression on Jayce’s face. There was joy but no real recognition. “Jayce? Jayce Talis?”

“That’s me!” Jayce grinned. “Are you from my school?” His eyes flicked down to take Viktor in and they seemed to stutter on his crutch and the leg brace. “Hey…what happened to your leg? Did you hurt yourself?”

“It’s…it’s always been like…like…” A lump grew quickly in Viktor’s throat. He could barely breathe, much less speak. It couldn’t be . This terrible scenario, which he hadn’t even considered … “D-Don’t you remember? Hextech! And the hexgates? Your hammer and the…the…” his voice cracked, “Don’t you remember me?”

The familiar eyes Viktor loved roamed over his face and no recognition took hold. “What’s your name?” Jayce asked with all the innocence of a child first being introduced to a new friend.

Viktor felt as though the world was falling away under his feet.

Jayce didn’t recognize him. All the memories that currently burdened Viktor were absent on Jayce’s sweet face. Only Viktor had been sent back. And Jayce didn’t remember him. 

Chapter Text

Even at his young age, Jayce could clearly sense that Viktor was on the precipice of a complete fallout. His small thumb rubbed a soothing line up and down Viktor’s hand, the same as he did to the cuts of his blue hexgem, and Viktor calmed slightly at the familiar gesture. He was still Jayce.

“It’s me, Jayce. It’s Viktor.”

He brightened. “It’s nice to meet you, Viktor! Do you live near here? Are you in my grammar school?” It broke Viktor’s heart a little. He remembered Jayce speaking a little bitterly of his early years in Piltover: dealing with cliques that had been established since his classmates were in diapers, the bullying when some discovered his idealistic love of magic, and the periods where he was almost entirely without friends. 

“I…don’t.” Viktor admitted even though he hated seeing the disappointment in Jayce’s sweet face. “But I-I know you.” Every fiber. Their souls had been interconnected and Viktor loved every molecule. “You might not remember me b-but I’m here. I’m here so we can be partners again.” I’ll stay until you remember me .

Jayce squeezed his hands. “ Viktor . Do you like magic?” 

Even when he was so young, he was terrible at concealing his passions for more than a few minutes. Viktor rested his head against the metal bars of the fence, wishing it was the smooth expanse of Jayce’s forehead. “Yes. I’ve actually…I have so much to tell you.”

Viktor was wondering where to begin with his explanation when Jayce joyously pulled the blue hexgem from his pocket for Viktor’s inspection. “I saw real magic in the mountains on the way here. To Piltover.”

“I know,” Viktor whispered fondly.

Jayce didn’t seem to hear him in his excitement, as he continued on. “A real magician gave this to me: this magic stone.” I know. I was the one who came to save you in the snow. Me…from another life, a thousand lives. Letting you die would have stopped the cycle but I…I couldn’t bear to do it. I couldn’t let you die. I love you. “I’m going to school so I can learn to use magic the same way. Look.” Absolutely trusting, Jayce handed his precious gem for Viktor to inspect and Viktor felt his breath catch.

The rune carved on the front was different from the one he carried in his pocket.

The acceleration rune on the gem he knew had served as the basis for all of their research into the hexgates: a long vertical line leading into an angled hook with a dash nestled inside. This gem had a deep angle cut onto the face to where it almost resembled an uppercase V. A rune he’d never seen before . Gods only knew what it did. But that meant this world was different and…their actions weren’t set in stone. They could amend fate together.

So transfixed by this new anomaly, it took Viktor a moment to realize that Jayce was waiting expectantly for a response. “I believe you. I believe you can create magic.” For the good of Piltover, Viktor couldn’t allow him to actually do it but Jayce had clocked the conviction in his voice and brightened.

“Do you want to see my research?”

“Yes,” Viktor breathed. 

It was perfect. Once he was inside and away from prying eyes on the street, then he could give Jayce his explanation in full. Maybe it would help him remember. If not…

“Let me ask my mama.” As much as he hated to let go of Jayce’s hand again, Viktor let it slip through, knowing that Ximena might allow him in. He knew her, he could find some angle that could make her be at ease around him in this state. “Wait here, Viktor.”

He only made it as far as the front stoop before the door swung inward and Viktor’s breath caught in his throat.

He had only seen Jayce’s father in the photos in Jayce’s home and the memories of Jayce and Ximena. It was another thing entirely to see him in the flesh when he looked so much like his son. He had the build of someone who worked hard in the forges, his dark skin likely littered with paler scars from small burns and cuts, and the shape of his face—the jaw, the nose, the brow, everything but the dark brown eyes—were a carbon copy of the Jayce Viktor knew. 

The ache hit his heart as his tiny body tried to process the deep, complex love he felt for the face in front of him.

Jayce’s father placed a gentle hand on his son’s dark head and ruffled the hair as Jayce made his delighted introductions. Jayce wasn’t able to hear Mr. Talis’ response but Jayce drooped a little, glancing back between Viktor and his father before nodding and going back into the house.

Viktor felt the first premonition of failure as Mr. Talis closed the front door before walking down the front path to loom over Viktor.

Having grown up around the rougher parts of Zaun and spending his academy days fairly close to some of the highest echelons of Piltover’s society, Viktor had gotten very good at reading the unspoken emotions in people’s expressions. He found the skill had only sharpened after touching the consciousness of thousands and he didn’t have much hope seeing the way Jayce’s father was looking at him.

It was somewhere in between pity, disgust, and a clinical sort of empathy, not for Viktor but for his rotten luck of being born on the wrong side of the canal. From what Viktor could recall, Jayce’s father had only migrated to Piltover a year or two before his wife and son joined him; had that really been enough time for his neighbors to ingrain their prejudices into a new addition?

They’re petty, careless little people—you know them, you saw them cling to any vendetta, if only to avoid their own pain. That’s why you helped them evolve past it—

No. It wasn’t right. He was trying to stop the evolution this time.

“My son tells me your name is Viktor.”

“Yes.”

“I’ve been watching the two of you speak from the front window. I presume you’ve come fr—some distance to this area of New Piltover.” Viktor didn’t attempt to help him and simply stared as the man tried to dance around the crux of the issue: an undercity unknown likely loitering illegally in front of his home. “Have we met before?”

“I know Jayce.” Viktor said. Better than anyone else on earth . Mr. Talis seemed surprised to hear his son’s name on Viktor’s tongue. It looked as though they hadn’t yet taught him not to talk to undercity kids. 

“And you’re here to…?” The question remained unfinished. A trap. He’d probably come to his own conclusions—a thief, a scout for organized crime barons, a murderer looking for an easy mark—and every response of thousands would seem like a hasty excuse to hide his guilt.

The truth would be the most unhinged admission: I love Jayce. He was the only one in this cruel world who I cared to find, the only one who saw my twisted body and mind and loved me anyways.  

“We were…” Viktor’s traitorous voice quavered in desperation to be believed, “going to try and make magic.”

The pause was long and tense before Mr. Talis sighed and ran his hand down his face, a habit that he must have passed down to his son. When he looked back up, his expression was now only pity.

“I’ll have to ask you to leave.” Jayce’s father said gently in a tone Viktor had heard ten thousand times before. He’d preferred the vitriol and outright contempt over the well-meaning friendliness that was simply a veneer for apathy. Heimerdinger had been that way: listening to Viktor’s stories, bringing in a handful of undercity students at his request, but never actually enacting any meaningful change. They’d be polite, sometimes even friendly but…they’d never help him. 

“I understand.” 

“I notice that you walk with an aid. I’ve taken the liberty of ordering you transportation back to the undercity.”

Viktor felt a prickle of cold fear race up his spine before he turned and found his terror complete.

Even though he’d spent years in Piltover and had been largely ignored by them, Viktor had been raised with a generational fear of the Enforcers. As violent and cunning as great cats, he had always felt as though they were just waiting for a slip, waiting for the perfect excuse to beat him into the concrete. He couldn’t outrun them and, in the body of his youth, they looked terrifyingly huge as they approached him.

Viktor heard the blood rush in his ears as he turned back to Jayce’s father, hoping it was all a mirage. “ Please …please don’t…”

He saw Jayce’s face in the man—the same nose and the cut of his jaw, the slight curl in his hair and his strong frame—and Jayce had always, always come to help him. It felt like torture knowing that a man with most of Jayce’s face—the face of the man he loved —was about to throw him to the wolves.

“They’ve assured me that you’ll arrive home—”

“ Please .”

The gloved hand landed hard on his shoulder and squeezed hard enough that it felt like the enforcer was trying to break his collarbone. “Mr. Talis? We were told you had a scrap that needed to be taken back where it belongs.” Any response of Jayce’s father was lost over the sheer panic that took over his body.

It hurt him from shoulder to ankle as the enforcer manually turned his body and began to march him toward the open side of their metal carriage. It looked like a tomb .

Even though it was incredibly dangerous to show any modicum of disobedience, Viktor could help himself when his partner, half of his soul, was separated by a few yards and a single layer of brick. The terror and the pain were such that tears were falling quickly before he’d even finished turning his head to look back. The brick blurred to a red mass but Jayce’s face stood out in sharp relief from where he was watching from behind the window.

The familiar face had his breath coming short and he whispered pleas under each exhale. “Please, please. Remember me. Jayce. Come back to me. Call me back. Please. Jayce.”

It was all for nothing.

Jayce’s small, round face disappeared from behind the windowpane, the Talis front door remained firmly shut, and Viktor was thrown into the back of the enforcer wagon. His tears splattered on the metal floors as the man inside connected his fist in the center of Viktor’s stomach. 

By the time the enforcer carriage deposited Viktor back onto the streets of the Lanes, the tears had dried on his cheeks. He was unable to produce more simply because he was struggling to breathe thanks to the broken ribs and bruised stomach the enforcers had treated him to. It hurt when an enforcer boot planted on his flank, kicking him from the open carriage door. It hurt when he hit the stone street on his broken side, unable to break his fall, and his cane thrown down onto his back. But all of it was negligible in comparison to the pain in his chest.

Whatever magic had sent him back to his thirteenth year, had not extended the same gift to Jayce. Viktor had been pulled from Jayce’s arms and his partner was still, presumably, lost in the aether. Alone, just like he had been in the glimpses Viktor caught of a ravine—cold, sick, hungry, going mad.

His cry of pain was more for the man he loved than for his own broken bones.

“We’d better not have to escort you back again.” Was the only response from enforcers before the carriage turned back towards Piltover. Viktor lay in the street, unable to build up the strength or the will to move, until some passersby took pity on him.

“Ah fuck kid, unlucky with the enforcers, eh?”

Strong, swarthy arms slipped under his body and hoisted him up into the air. He was so used to constant pain in his leg and spine that the broken ribs didn’t even register as the woman cradled him. 

He knew her. Her face was familiar and Viktor realized that he was in the arms of the woman who’d been briefly touched by the tendrils of his heraldic form. A little effort spared and he could recall snapshots of her memories and feelings as she became one with his mind. The constant, futile scrabbling for a better life. The betrayals. The feeling of trying to patch up a city she loved and it had all the effect of water through a sieve. But she’d keep fighting…even when her family, her friends, her arms were torn away in a spray of blood and pain . She still had both her arms.

The name was the last to come.

“ Sevika ,” he groaned, unable to keep the word from bubbling out of his core.

“Have we met before, lock-step?” She asked with a mirthless chuckle, “Didn’t realize I was that prolific but I’ll get you bandaged up.” A typical undercity woman, she spared very little conversation until Viktor was placed on the counter of a local apothecary and the skinny vastaya behind the counter began to bandage his torso. “How’d you run afoul of the enforcers, kid? Stand too close?”

Viktor found the strength to weep again, slow and leisurely. “I-I was…l-looking for my partner. H-He lives in New Piltover and…after we got separated he…he didn’t remember me.” In spite of how he tried to remain calm, the powerful emotions in his preteen body were overwhelming and his choked his way through the explanation. “His…his father called them to send me back.”

Sevika and the vastaya— Asti, he’d seen her as well— shot each other a knowing glance. Viktor had seen it before. Poor slum kid learning the hard way. Fell in love with a Piltie who promised him the world and then pretended not to know him the moment he came topside . Tale as old as time.

“They do anything aside from roughing you up?” Sevika’s eyes were steely as she asked. Viktor, with all the worldly knowledge of a man twice the age of his tiny body, knew that the enforcers could be even more cruel. 

There were other types of assault to break the spirit and the most minor infraction could land him in Stillwater for weeks. Encounter the wrong enforcer who was having a bad day and an undercity kid could forfeit their life on a mundane charge like trespassing or disturbing the peace. He’d gotten off fairly lucky, all things considered. “No. Just a few punches to the torso.”

Something hungry gleamed in Sevika’s gray irises before she controlled herself and nodded. It didn’t take much to dredge up the feelings. He’d felt how people from the undercity were powder kegs put to pressure and slowly burning. All it would take was the right catalyst and then—

“It’ll take a couple months to heal up.” Asti sighed, her furry ears flicking as she tied off the gauze. “Try not to run too—” The words died in her mouth as she noticed his leg brace and the cane in Sevika’s hand. “Ah.”

‘Ah’, indeed . “I’ll do my best.”

“I’ll get you home, kid.” Sevika sighed, “Where’s your place?”

“Between the foundry and Atlas Row.” Viktor sighed as he wiped his cheeks. Both women stiffened and Viktor looked between them in alarm. “What?”

Sevika scooped him back up and was out the door before making any type of explanation. “Do either of your folks work in the mines down by the foundry? There’s been an explosion—pocket of gas under pressure got hit and blew the whole damn shaft apart.” Viktor closed his eyes as it hit him again.

Broken ribs, broken heart, and broken family all in one day.

The summer he’d turned thirteen was when his father had died in a mining explosion, along with three dozen of his coworkers. His mother didn’t seem to notice Sevika’s presence or any of his injuries when they found her sitting at the kitchen table. She didn’t question where Viktor had gone or why he was returning past dark with his pale skin mottled in bruises. The delight was gone from her eyes as she hugged Viktor hard enough to send a spike of pain through his battered torso.

“I’m…so sorry.” Sevika murmured as she placed a hand on Viktor’s shoulder. It was obviously not the kind of emotional turmoil she had expected from pulling a boy from the gutter. “If you need anything else…”

Outside of his gentle, mechanical control in the expanse of the arcane, they were merely flesh and bone, crushed by the constraints of society. Sevika’s was a paltry, if genuine offering. There was nothing any of them could do.

The trauma he suffered hit his small body in a wave and Viktor felt his sanity began to fray at the seams. With each hitching breath, he heard himself whispering Jayce’s name, perhaps in the futile hope that his partner would hear him call and come running. How did he manage to ruin everything he touched? If not for his mother holding him so tightly that it hurt, he would have gone fully mad.

It was the middle of the night before Viktor found himself capable of rational thought. To spare his lungs, he could not stay in the undercity overnight and he reluctantly left the lightless apartment with some bedding tied to his back.

From his father, he had inherited the shape and color of his eyes, his stubbornness, and his love of people who seemed to burn as brightly as the sun.

When Viktor stepped outside, he glanced down at the ground to find that the ghostly footprints that led towards the mine earlier in the day had disappeared. Whether it was a mirage or an opportunity of fate, it was too late now. Viktor had made his choice and he knew the thought of ‘what if’ would haunt him for the rest of his life.

After a tragedy of a day, Viktor thought he had no tears left in his dry, aching body. But when he found a spot under the border bridge where the air was soft and he was bathed in the dull golden light of Piltover, his body found an additional well as his eyes brimmed over. 

What have I done? Jayce…what have I done?

He couldn’t be idle. There was no room for the luxury of relaxation in a place as hardscrabble as the undercity. Viktor’s constant feelings of loneliness and anguish could be felt in full while he worked. He had to be prepared to avoid every calamity so he filled up every notebook he owned and several more that he stole.

He wrote even as tears dripped from his nose and warped the pages, blurring the ink.

He wrote until his fingers ached and his eyes were blurry from focusing in the low light. Everything he could recall of Jayce's case after the council's discovery of his hextech, every important person whose mind he had touched, the things he had learned upon becoming the machine herald in his commune. Shimmer, Silco, Singed, Powder, Vi, and Vander—the man who’d become a beast—the schematics for his braces, drawings of every invention they'd made, lists of the materials he needed, grievances Jayce had aired about the council, the Medardas and the Kirammans, Sky and and her notes on undercity flora, Heimerdinger and Rio. And Jayce. Always Jayce . 

He sketched the man's face from memory next to all of his little notes about Jayce, all the memories he was afraid he'd lose. Viktor wrote down everything and kept a notebook in his pocket at all times in case a bolt of memory hit him while he was out. He created a list of things that needed to be done...and things that he had to steal. 

Masks were the first order of business with the air quality being so poor.

Having ordered so many materials for the hexgates, Viktor knew when security was lax at the shipping docks. It was no issue at all for a small boy to slip in after hours and wrench two of the newest models free of their crates. His guilt over resorting to petty theft lessened with each reminder of what might happen if he didn’t.

With some additional parts, he was able to craft the most up-to-date filtration system from before he’d evolved. In another life, he would have explained its function to his mother in excitement, if only to see the pride glow in her eyes. But she was still mourning and exhausted from taking up more work to make up for the loss of his father’s mining salary; it was better if she didn’t notice what he was up to.

“For your breathing, Mama.” Viktor kissed her cheek as he placed the apparatus on the table. 

Deep in his heart, he knew it was too late for her and all he could do was provide small comforts to ease her current pain. It hurt him to think of how easy it would be to heal her…if only he was still the herald. If only … At least he knew his time limit, down to the day. His mother had held on until he was twenty, her last gift the academy uniform he’d used to get his assistant position. Seven years left . 

Adding to the guilt, he took advantage of her despondence to set his plans in motion, as she didn’t seem to notice that he wore his own mask round the clock or that he never slept in their apartment. He slept near the canals, sometimes braving one of the passages to the Piltovan side so he could sleep without the mask on. 

Under the light of both cities he loved, Viktor worked on a proper brace.

The brace he made was much the same as the one that Jayce had helped him craft as an adult.

The materials were lower in quality, even though they were the best he could steal, but now that Viktor had the knowledge of exactly how his bones would twist in his late twenties and early thirties, he could make the modifications for prevention before he hit puberty. It was slow going though. It had been so much easier and more engaging with two grown men putting in the work.

The memories were warm. 

Jayce had taken his measurements and crafted every piece to fit him perfectly, his brows furrowing as he made calculations and adjustments. And Jayce’s ears had been as maroon as the Talis colors, Viktor bent double laughing as they realized their calibrations for the joints were off and Viktor had been forced to walk without being able to bend his knee. A golden boy indeed, Jayce had done the smithing purely out of consideration and adoration, and made any additional adjustments without complaint. Viktor had seen it, felt it while they were connected: Jayce had done it for pure, unconditional love. He’d done it solely so that he could see Viktor smile as he moved around the lab with a little less pain.

The twinge of bittersweetness clenched in Viktor’s heart. It was so…incredibly lonely to craft his brace alone, knowing how beautiful it had been in another life. There’s beauty in imperfections .

His chuckle had the hint of a sob at the end as Viktor turned his skinny leg to look at his handiwork. “It’s crude, Jayce. I’ll…make the improvements when I can so that you don’t have to…” …when you remember me . 

It took a great deal of effort to chisel into metal with the strength of a boy and eyes flooded with tears, but he carved the final touches onto each of the bolts that connected the pieces of his brace. Shakily done, he alone knew that it was the T, the hammer, the symbol of house Talis that had similarly marked the brace Jayce had crafted for him.

It was a hollow substitute, on par with the paltry warmth of his arms as he wrapped them around himself. He missed his partner.

In his youth, he only made three other attempts to reach out to Jayce, each one ending catastrophically.

His first attempt was during the mourning hours following Mr. Talis’ untimely death from a freak accident in the family forge. Viktor had done his best to clean himself up as best he could, but guests to the household looked at him askance as if they could smell the remnants of the undercity baked into his bones.

He could not find Jayce amongst the throng but he did overhear Ximena talking to some of the guests about how he hadn’t been able to sleep well for quite some time. 

“It’s the nightmares that keep him up.” She murmured in between wiping at the corners of her eyes with a silk handkerchief. “I fear that it will only get worse with the passing of—” It took her a moment to compose herself but her next thought speared Viktor in the heart. “Ever since that strange boy was outside the house, Jayce has dreamt of nothing but death.”

Correlation does not equal causation .

The knowledge of this scientific reminder did little to soothe him. Had his presence caused Jayce pain? Was his penance for selfishness that he would be forced to keep his distance? 

He stayed just long enough to see Jayce again and felt his heart squeeze painfully when he saw the state of his partner. 

Dark circles under his reddened eyes, he looked utterly devoid of the will to live. He looked through everyone present—Viktor included—as if they were made of glass before suctioning himself to his mother’s side in silent resignation. Viktor thought about calling out but…

He remembered how Jayce had looked at himself in the fine mirror in his master bathroom in Piltover. All the opulence, all the joy was gone after ages starving in a ravine, climbing with a shattered body, only to find that the two things he loved most in the world were going to destroy everything. He had looked at his gaunt, resigned face after he’d shot his beloved partner in the chest and had deeply, viscerally wanted to die .

Viktor could not bear to see the expression again, especially if it was leveled in his direction. He left without saying anything to Jayce and broke into silent, heaving sobs the moment the front door closed behind him.

All his fault…he hadn’t been able to save anyone…

The second time, Jayce was standing quietly on the fringes of a group of schoolchildren, standing a head taller than most of them already. From his practiced eye, Viktor could tell that Jayce was a bit out of his element. He stayed quiet and subdued outside the flow of conversation and his reactions seemed a split second behind those of his friends.

The rush of love Viktor felt was so intense that he nearly called out on instinct. Instead he held himself still and wrapped himself tighter in the length of cloth he’d taken to cover up his undercity clothes. As always with the high class elites in Piltover, it was as if they could smell the undercity on him.

The moment one of Jayce’s ‘friends’ noticed Viktor in the shadows, they called out loud enough for Viktor to hear: “What’s a sump-rat doing topside?”

The disgusted looks and chorus of plain insults didn’t affect him in the slightest. 

He fixed his gaze on Jayce and remembered how his partner had always hated when those in high society dismissed or outright rejected Viktor. Jayce had volunteered for every social engagement, every presentation, become a councilor and the face of their inventions to spare Viktor from a direct line of vitriol. Viktor had felt his anger through the memories. Jayce had thought about fighting multiple people throughout their tenure as the premier inventors in the city, if only because they insulted Viktor within earshot .

Those lovely hazel eyes. Viktor held his breath as Jayce spotted him.

He was a few seconds later than the others, allowing himself a good look before the hiveminded cruelty of teenagers took hold and he turned his head away in rejection. That hurt Viktor worse than any insult; never had Jayce been ashamed of his company. 

Viktor had fled to the docks before someone in the group had the idea to call the enforcers on him. 

Ensconced in the safety of his little dockside hideaway, Viktor wept until he vomited into the canal. He’d never doubt the love he had felt in the arcane but gods if it didn’t hurt like hell to have Jayce turn his back in blatant disgust. He clutched the blue gem and begged to turn back time. It wasn’t another chance he wanted; he just wanted to be with Jayce.

Too late…too late… the whispers were on the wind, in the water. Time…is a better tutor …

The final time Viktor felt bold enough to try and make contact with Jayce was the day of his final middle school exposition. Viktor recalled it was the day that the Kirammans noticed his natural talent and took him on as patrons.

He could not actually get into the venue thanks to the security at the wrought iron gates so instead he pulled a bench close enough to a first floor window and sat on the outer sill in hopes of a glimpse of his partner. Like being outside of an aquarium or looking through the undulations of the arcane into a life he wasn’t meant to see. He would never get used to the sheer opulence from families like the Kirammans, where even a youth competition was cause for a party beyond any undercity child’s wildest fantasy.

All their faces blended together into reels of color; Viktor only cared to see one face and his heart stopped as Jayce’s face came sharply into focus. He was already losing the soft roundness in his cheeks and had taken on the habit of standing with his hands placed respectfully behind his back so that the people he discussed his research with wouldn’t see his hands shaking. It had taken him so many years to get comfortable talking to donors and Viktor smiled remembering some of his other charming habits.

He could have stayed and watched for days on end. Time slipped away until Jayce finally seemed to catch sight of him through the blurred glass of the panes. Viktor held his breath…hoping. 

Instead of recognition, Jayce’s expression became a little sickened and he excused himself from the throng. Viktor panicked and slipped down from the sill, hoping to potentially find the room where Jayce was going to hide himself away to be ill. Stopped by the high fence, Viktor felt like a desperate animal as he turned back and thought about trying to go in through the front door.

However, the Kirammans were prepared for anyone without an explicit invitation. Turning the corner to the front of the estate, Viktor ran almost face-first into the chest of an enforcer. They must have smelled the undercity on him because he felt a gloved hand grip his hair and yank up so that he was up on his tiptoes.  

“Looks like we have a gatecrasher. Probably some undercity thief, no?”

Viktor thought of Jayce’s pale expression and struggled in their grip, in spite of what he’d been taught since childhood. “N-No! Please—you d-don’t—I know someone inside! Jayce Talis! Please, call him out and he’ll—”

But he was from the undercity, a liar by birth to the men who were holding him. The Kirammans were paying them to keep out the undesirables and they turned him over to their captain.

The enforcers were harsher on slum children than they were on adults in Piltover, so it stood to reason that they treated undercity teenagers like the scum of the earth. If only he could touch their minds and unravel the years of hate, if only he could have them feel the terror that everyone in the undercity experienced daily . But he was no longer the herald and he was not foolish enough to expect mercy.

He simply tried to make himself look as docile and non-threatening as possible.

Their captain looked him over coldly before speaking.

“I believe we’ve been called once or twice to the Talis home regarding some undercity illegals loitering around, disturbing the peace. I’d like to think it wasn’t you but…we can never be too careful.” He’d instructed his deputies to hold Viktor steady so he could savagely beat Viktor from his ribs to his knees, content only when Viktor was huddled on the floor in a fetal position. He felt the firm end of a baton jab into the side of his head and he whimpered in desperate pain. “We’re going to take a report on you before we dump you back in that shithole across the canal and keep in mind that this is your last warning from us. If we catch you in Piltover again, we’re going to throw you straight into Stillwater for a month with three cellmates who will wear you out from both ends. Understand, you skinny little bastard?”

“I…understand…” Viktor breathed in between the deep waves of pain.

Time is…a better tutor…

He did not fight as they hauled him to the closest enforcer outpost to have all of his information filed away for future misdemeanors. He was under no false pretenses: if he continued in this pursuit of trying to contact Jayce, he would be killed.

When the enforcers dumped him on the polished marble of the border bridge, Viktor had made a decision: he could not go back to Piltover.

He had been given another chance at life and it would be a terrible waste to die.

Jayce did not remember him but Viktor didn’t doubt that someday his partner would come find him again. He thought of the man from Jayce’s memories—the mage with Viktor’s face—who had been waiting untold millennia for the man he loved. When Jayce remembered, Viktor would be there waiting for him…

Chapter Text

As devastating as it was to navigate life without Jayce, there were other ways he could atone for overstepping the natural order in his previous life. Sky Young was still alive and Viktor remembered the innovative ideas she’d had about natural air filtration and lowering soil toxicity. It was quite a bit to expect that she had fully fleshed out her research by age sixteen but she had mentioned in her notebook that her ideas and her love of botany had started early. Hopefully with his knowledge of her future research and her natural talent, they would be able to make further improvements.

She was delighted to see him when he found her working in one of the undercity glass factories. Dangerous, blistering work, the heated interior of the factory reminded Viktor of Jayce’s forge. “Mis—Sky,” he corrected himself from using the formal address he’d adopted with her so that his Pilover colleagues would regard her with some respect.

“Viktor! What brings you here?” 

He remembered his pitch from when he and Jayce had started hextech in earnest and had needed an assistant. “Are you exceedingly fond of working in this refinery?”

She shot him a wry grin. They had been two of the luckier ones, having been able to finish their schooling up through age thirteen; most families could not afford to have a teenager in school when money was tight and dangerous jobs willing to pay for cheap, manual workers were plentiful. “I assume you have something more exciting in mind?”

“If you’ll hear me out.”

It was a much harder prospect to sell this time around. He did not have a cushy, well-paid Piltover academic job for her this time around. This time it was a risk that could plunge Sky and her family even deeper into poverty. Bless Sky, she heard him out even though her expression gave her away at times. At the end of his explanation, she paused and looked over all the notes he’d handed her: her research, copied and placed on her lap around fifteen years early. 

“You’re crazy!” She barked a quick laugh before reading through again. “How did you come up with this, Viktor? I always had an idea that the Fissure Tears had some kind of filtration—the air where they grow is always a little lighter—but I never had the materials to test it or the time to do any experiments with cross-pollination.”

“More than that, I think there may be other plants in the undercity that can do more: purifying water, detoxing the soil, medicines.” Viktor knew it as a certainty, having worked through the deep knowledge of the undercity people who’d been touched by the herald’s strings. “I want to run tests, make some medicines I can sell to fund the research but I need help.” He glanced down at his leg—always his leg. 

“What did you have in mind?” There was an innate hunger in just about everyone who lived in the undercity, most of the time for wealth or stability, but occasionally there were outliers. He and Sky were driven by a similar type of hunger. It was the same thing that had driven him to feed the hexcore his blood, carving into his skin, pushing the boundaries.

Viktor had already designed breathing masks that were more efficient and lightweight. With his foresight of the shipping processes in Piltover, it would be no issue at all to steal a few of the old versions of the masks to make the necessary corrections and start their venture off in the black. Sky’s sole job would be plant propagation and pollination so that they could begin to experiment with medicines and filtration. It would be long hours and potentially put them in contact with some incredibly dangerous people but it would give them both what they wanted. “I understand…if it’s too much to ask. But you’re the only one I’d trust with this.”

It took her a little longer to review the research a third time but when she looked up at him again, she was smiling. “I’ll help you, Viktor. Anything to get me out of that sweatshop.” The curiosity won out in the end.

Viktor leaned forward to embrace her, delighted that she was alive and breathing and willing to work with him in this life as well. “Thank you.” He breathed as he tried to keep tears from welling up. “I won’t let you down.” Not this time.

“Just promise me that you’ll be the one to deal with any glassware. At least for the first year or two.” She pulled back and squinted through glasses that Viktor knew were the wrong prescription. He couldn’t wait to offer her Piltover on a golden platter. “How have you been, Viktor? How’s your mother?”

“Ah…” It was a difficult question to answer. 

His mother could still stand, still work, but the grief and the lifetime of exposure to gases had taken its toll on her thin body. She and Viktor wore the masks he’d created day and night but it was nothing but a light painkiller for her. Every day the effort to rise from her bed was greater and Viktor knew by the time he turned eighteen she would have used her final paycheck and the last bit of her strength to walk to a pawn shop in the Lanes and buy him a Piltover Academy uniform.

In his old life, he had managed to land his assistant role through a combination of luck and balls, and had sent most of his wages home to set her up with a home nurse while he was chasing gilded dreams. He regretted it all but he’d been desperate.

And scared. So frightened to come home and see his fate on his mother’s body. Standing next to death at eighteen had been too much for him to bear. But he was different now.

This time he’d be ready. He’d have money so she could spend her final days in comfort.

“Not well,” Viktor admitted, “I want her to stop working and breathe easily while she still can. That’s why we can set up the operation and the first set of greenhouses in my bedroom—it will clear up the air even more.”

Sky’s expression had gone from sympathetic to surprised as Viktor glossed over any further conversation of illness in favor of going over logistics. “I-If we’re setting this up in your bedroom…where are you planning to sleep?”

There was still so much to do. 

Viktor reached out to gather up all the research papers in Sky’s lap as he felt the inspiration coming in a tidal wave. These strokes of genius had kept him and Jayce up for days on end but the dry exhaustion at the ends of these marathons was well worth the miracles they’d come up with. Like magic.

“I have a few ideas. But it can always wait.”

With their filtration masks selling at a tidy profit and Sky making use of nearly every square inch of free space in Viktor’s neighborhood for their botanical experiments, Viktor became acutely aware that they needed more space for their plants and he needed a separate workshop of his own. Medicine was the next step and he wanted the skills before he turned twenty. 

As soon as he had the money, he gently demanded that his mother retire early to spare what was left of her health, paid a visit to a doctor to confirm he’d narrowly avoided a chronic lung disease, and then took ownership of the greenhouse that had been his a lifetime ago in his commune.

He remembered it for its potential: the nacre bubble that had swelled and grown with his powers and had been his meeting place, the sea of flowers and fruiting plants, the soft yellow daylight, and the gentle, happy people who worked together to make things better. He had built it for the undercity but…if he was being very honest with himself, it was also for Jayce. He wanted a utopia where they could invent in peace and make real, honest change for the people who needed it most. He thought Jayce would understand.

Viktor wrapped his arms around his torso, feeling the phantom pain of the blast that had hit him in the chest. You never learn. There was always a part of him that ached to fix his mistakes, to improve and evolve…

Though the locals and Sky thought he was mad for his choice of a second spot for their growing project, no one put up a fierce argument in the face of his complete confidence.

He paid them no mind as they called him an idiot, insisting the poisoned soil couldn’t support life as they bought his medicines and masks. The local thieves and gangsters thought he would be an easy target until he caught a few of them casing his greenhouse, recognized them from his commune, and told them their own darkest secrets. They’d fled in pale fear and the Nautilus Fissure became unique in the undercity for how few crimes were committed. He ignored it as his neighbors and customers jokingly called him a ‘bloomer’ as he paid local children to help him plant the first round of bulbs and seeds. When, against all odds, the shoots began to push through the earth, ‘bloomer’ became more of a fond nickname and his unofficial title.

It was not nearly as grandiose as being known as one of the boys of progress or the Machine Herald but his hubris had gotten him into this mess in the first place.

Fate mostly let him be.

But every so often, there was a sign he could not ignore. The spring before he turned nineteen, it was Sky who delivered him one on a set of glass sample trays while he was doing dissections on their newest round of hybrids. Sky talked steadily as she placed new plant samples on their shared work table. Already their work was having some effect, small as it was. 

There were slight signs of decreased toxins in the air and water from their initial tests but Viktor felt the urgency of time breathing down his neck. More tests, more medicines, more cross-pollinations and samples…

“These show some promise with pain relief and boosted strength,” Sky mentioned errantly as she placed some specimens at Viktor’s elbow. “I think if you could find a way to bind the chemicals to some kind of protein, it would have a wide versatility of uses.”

Viktor glanced down and the color caught him.

Do you feel the hand of fate moving? It’s violet. Neon violet.

Viktor saw his hands tremble as he reached over and touched the mushroom caps, feeling a rush of sickening nostalgia as the gills underneath glowed a very faint neon purple. The same as it had in vials and syringes, in the veins of the people who shot it up to power through or numb the pain of existence. Chemicals bound with the animal protein of a waverider, Viktor knew the exhilarating rush personally. He remembered how beautiful and terrible the first pulse of chemicals felt in his bloodstream. He knew the taste of Shimmer. 

“Shimmergills,” he spoke in a careful monotone, “we’re branching out from botany to mycology? Where did you find them?” He’d stayed far from mushrooms and fungi for fear of coming into contact with the hateful things but…it had come to him.

There was no surer sign that he had to act. The arcane was moving again and had sent him a message outright.

“It seems a bit of a waste not to explore every resource,” Sky pushed her glasses up higher on her nose, unaware of Viktor’s horror, “One of the locals showed me where he was harvesting them and said we might find them useful specimens for our research.” 

Even the words brought the man to mind: narrow in the face and the frame, with his dark hair receding, a low, serene voice that beguiled his listeners and put them at ease so that they didn’t notice his complete and utter lack of morality. Corin Reveck—Singed, as the street kids called him once his skin became shiny and blistered from burns.

“I agree,” Viktor said lightly, “I’d love to study them as well.”

His guilt over the white lie was drowned out by the terrible knowledge that he would have to take a life. He’d been sickened to his core at the thought of making weapons with Jayce. Sky was delighted as she handed him the samples she’d collected and Viktor felt a lump in his throat as he looked at her dear face. By killing one man, he’d save her life. 

His mother had not been able to lift a knife in months but she’d been militant about keeping the blades sharp up until cooking had become too much for her. The rockfish from the canal took strength and sharpness to slice through and Viktor selected a medium sized knife that could be easily wrapped in a dish rag and hidden in the folds of his clothes. Luckily Sky hadn’t noticed as she was too busy boiling and filtering water for the plants and for Viktor’s mother.

“Sky? Could I ask you to stay here this evening while I go out?”

“Are you going to the protest?” She asked without taking her eyes off the balances on the filter. 

“Prote—no,” Viktor shook his head. He was so caught up in his own plans that he hadn’t even been aware of what was going on in the undercity. Protests were tricky, clogging the streets and setting the enforcers on a violent edge. “Just going out for some materials. But I’ll be careful.” The last bit was added purely as a courtesy.

Word got around in the undercity and people were not subtle at hiding their anxiety around Viktor. He knew they often found him unnerving for his preternatural calm, the way he was able to move through the city with such ease, and the way he seemed to know certain things before they happened.

He was mostly avoided until it became widely known that he sold medicine for cheap. Then there were some desperate and poor enough to seek him out. No one would approach him when there was a protest to worry about.

“I’ll hold down the fort.” Sky said, still focused on her chemical filtration levels. She didn’t notice as he smuggled the half-empty gas canister for the stove alongside the knife and slipped out of the apartment with his hood up. 

He was unsurprised to see the footprints on the ground and fitted his feet to them exactly as he set off to his terrible errand.

His brace was working as there was no lingering pain in his ligaments, only a slight ache of the muscles as he picked his way down to the creeks of his childhood and through the cave systems. He would never forget the way. Never. 

The air was hot and oppressive from the summer storms that were supposed to roll in. The back of Viktor’s neck was sweating, making his hair damp as he worked over the rocky banks into the cave system where his mentor’s laboratory was built. It was pitch black in the tunnels at that time of night but Viktor whistled to light up the bioluminescent mushrooms and lichen growing along the damp walls. 

The heated sweat of exercise co-mingled with the cold sweat of impending horror. He had to kill a man. Singed had created Shimmer and the drug had gutted the power of the Lanes. His creation had led so many to addiction and ruin, Viktor included. And his chemical creations had been directly and indirectly involved with the mass destruction of Piltover and the undercity. The footprints were leading his way and he could not find an easier way to avert disaster.

Viktor had to kill his mentor. 

He was winded and his clothes were sticking to his body by the time he’d hiked to the entrance of the first lab he’d ever worked in. He had steeled himself by then. For Jayce. “Jayce…”

The metal canister of kitchen gas he nestled in the sandy dirt just outside the edge of the path before hobbling inside. His heart felt as though it was on his tongue as the stone walls began to take on a watery indigo shade and it felt as though he was in a dream as he rounded the final corner.

As usual the walls were covered with a history of facts and experiments, every flat space was stacked with preserved specimens, and there was an overwhelming chemical smell that would have made Viktor sick if he hadn’t been wearing his filtration mask. Singed was hunched over the stainless steel tabletop where he was dissecting some poor creature. Aside from the bright lamp pointed at the table for a clear view, the only light came from Rio’s tank in the center of the room. She was suspended in some sort of liquid that was keeping her dying flesh alive. Though her large eyes were milky and unseeing, Viktor did feel a little bittersweet at how peaceful she looked. Soon it would be over and she could pass on peacefully, painlessly.

He withdrew the knife and let it hang, half hidden behind the curve of his thigh. It felt so heavy in his hand until he saw the door from the corner of his eyes. Tubes snaked underneath the frame into the glass coffin he knew was behind the door: Orianna, his mentor’s daughter. She was innocent. She didn’t deserve the fate of her father—

He could not stumble now. He timed his breath in unison with the low hum of machinery before he spoke.

“Professor,” Viktor said quietly as he clenched his fingers a little tighter around the handle of his mother’s knife. “I’ve come to see this through.”

Singed glanced back and it seemed to take him a moment to recognize Viktor with the breathing mask covering the bottom half of his face. However he spared a wry smile before turning back to his work. “Viktor. I always had a feeling you’d come to understand my point of view. Tell me: what inspired your change of heart?”

“The same thing that inspires anyone to cross the boundaries they’ve set.” Unbidden, Viktor felt the familiar words rise as he thought on the memories of his mentor. “The same thing that has driven you to this unspeakable madness.” Rio’s cloudy eyes bored into him and Viktor remembered how lively and sweet her liquid eyes had been when she was curled around him. “Love.”

Singed stiffened in the way everyone did when Viktor said things that weren’t meant to be spoken for another decade or so. A small anomaly in the timeline that set them on edge instinctually. 

“Something about you has—”

Viktor built up all his resolve by the time Singed turned in his chair. His teeth were rattling but his arm was steady as he swung it in a short arc and buried the business end of his mother’s knife in the side of Singed’s throat. The surprise in his mentor’s eyes, followed by the warm gout of blood was all the reminder Viktor needed of how revolting it was to end the life of another.

“Viktor—” He croaked as his hands scrabbled weakly towards his neck.

Viktor remembered Sky, clinging to him, screaming his name as the arcane peeled her apart at the molecule.

“I can’t—w-we can’t suffer you to live.” Viktor gasped. “What you’re doing with Shimmer,” Singed’s eyes widened at the shock of hearing his research, still in the early stages, named aloud, “with Rio and y-your daughter! Piltover and the undercity can’t suffer you to live.” He thought, selfishly, of Jayce chastising him on the border bridge after he’d gone to see Singed. Jayce had been worried out of his mind because the thought of someone he loved putting themselves in danger was enough to make him want to die from fear. “I cannot let you bring this to bear!”

He pulled the knife free with sickening ease and began to heave as blood spilled onto the smooth floors in pumping bursts. Singed fell to his knees before toppling over completely, his fingers at his throat and his eyes locked on the door embedded in the far wall. Viktor knew what was behind that door and he began to weep for his mentor.

Even in his last moments, his only thought was for the safety of his daughter. “Forgive me!” Viktor refused to let himself look away. He had to take in the sacrifice. “F-Forgive me…”

It was a mercifully short death, thank the gods.

Singed was dead, his eyes as unseeing as Rio’s long before Viktor’s tears dried. “I’m so sorry.” Viktor apologized once more before turning back to get the container of gas. With all the chemicals and the research materials inside, the place would burn thoroughly and anyone who discovered it wouldn’t ask too many questions. The doors to Orianna’s mausoleum were opened, books were stacked like kindling before being doused, and he knocked vials over at random until the smell of gas and chemicals made his eyes water and itch. 

He was almost ready. All he had to do was light the fire but he took one last look around. 

Two more deaths to go.

In a moment of madness, Viktor grabbed a metal stool and slammed it into the glass of the tank that held Rio suspended in her tangle of wires and tubes. The thin glass shattered, pouring viscous fluid on the floor up to Viktor’s ankles.

His legs ached as he knelt to cradle Rio’s enormous head in his hands, stroking the skin that had once been as cool and smooth as silk but was now clammy and unresponsive. He could feel the faintest tremor of a heartbeat but Viktor was under no illusions of hope: she wasn’t long for the world. Viktor leaned down to rest his forehead against hers.

“Rio…sweet creature. You should have been allowed a gentler death.”

He made sure she would feel no pain before stepping back and igniting the spark wheel of his lighter. All of it—every scrap of research—had to be burned before someone other than Viktor heard about Shimmer. The flames that licked up the floors soon took on a violet tinge and Viktor stepped away before the heat became too intense. 

By the time he’d hobbled to a safe distance, the mouth to the cave was an all-out inferno that sucked in more oxygen from the narrow stone tunnels to feed the flames. Good. Let it burn.

Viktor waited until the lab had burnt out completely. He had to make sure that nothing remained aside from bones and bits of blackened metal. The chemical recipe for Shimmer would die with him and the undercity would never be wracked with the effects of a drug trade. He was not aware he was trembling until the fire had died down and the entrance to his former mentor’s lab mellowed to black laced with veins of fiery red-orange.

It was done. “Forgive me.” 

Viktor wasn’t sure if he was asking for the forgiveness of his mentor, of dear, gentle Rio, or to Orianna, the young girl sleeping between life and death, whom he’d only seen through the eyes of others. They had all deserved better. If only he could have saved them.

Although it felt as if a lifetime had passed, Viktor realized it wasn’t even dawn yet. He still had some time before he’d go back to his apartment to relieve Sky but when he stood to stretch, the breath caught in his throat. 

The footprints.

Whorling in pearly geometrics to create a perfect imprint of Viktor’s soles, they all but glowed in the dark in a very obvious cue to follow. The ghastly things were imprinted on the rocky ground in front of him, leading a little further upstream to where the current was stronger. He could hear the whispers like a tug in the back of his mind:

Follow, please follow, please save him, save him. 

This time the voice had a distinct timbre that seemed to push through a chorus of others: masculine, deep, desperation underneath a thin veneer of professional calm. Viktor had heard it before but he couldn’t quite put his finger on who it was from his past. It would come to him eventually.

The last time he’d ignored the footsteps and the whispers of the arcane, he’d come back to the undercity fatherless and with broken ribs. As a scientist and an engineer, he liked to think he was the type to learn from his mistakes. With a sigh, he fitted his feet directly over top of the imprints and followed them step-by-step upriver until the mouth of the creek had opened up almost into the easternmost part of the bay. To the south, it was so pitch black that the water seemed almost to blend but there was a red-orange light to the northern sky that made Viktor’s heart seize.

It looked as though he wasn’t the only one setting fires that night. He was so transfixed by trying to remember if this night was important, he nearly missed the man who’d washed up on the pebbled shores. It wasn’t until he unsuccessfully tried to raise himself up to his elbows before falling back to the ground that Viktor noticed him.

He’d seen the man in the memories of others, recalled his name and the little details of his life seen in snapshots. Fear and love, loyalty and betrayal, regret and hope. “Silco,” he spoke the man’s name as if they’d known each other for ages.

He was in a state—half-drowned, bruising around his slender throat, half of his face an open chemical burn—and he gasped for air as he clung to the rocks and then Viktor for dear life. Thank the gods Silco was a slender man or Viktor might have had problems pulling him out of the water. He was soaked from the waist down and breathing heavily but Silco was alive and on dry ground for the first time in gods knew how long. Viktor gave him reprieve to catch his breath while he tried to remember all he could, aside from the terrifying rumors and the information Jayce had managed to dredge up when he’d gone to treat with the man.

He couldn’t sit cross-legged like he had in his commune without causing pain in his hips, but he could still meditate. Sitting atop a large, flat rock, Viktor closed his eyes and delved into the memories that weren’t his.

It took a great deal of effort but he saw—

Bitterness. Cunning. Desperate love for his daughter and for Zaun. Viktor saw him inject liquid Shimmer into the humours of his ruined eye. He saw the man sweetly manipulate and coldly threaten everyone from undercity teenagers to his subordinate barons to the enforcers. And in wisps, watercolor snatches of sensation, barely memories at all, there was love, joy, hope that seemed to focus Silco at the center.

Even just this small foray into all the information he’d accumulated after shedding the limitations of his physical form had his head throbbing and nose bleeding. His fingers shook as he wiped away the blood.

“Am I…dead?”

Silco’s voice was a raspy whisper, choked by smoke, the water, or the fingers that had been around his throat. But while his tone was weak, his eyes seemed to burn in their sockets. He was not a man who would surrender easily to death.

“As if the universe would be so kind,” Viktor smoothly adopted the fatalistic humor of the Lanes as he stood. “No, you live to fight another day, Silco.”

There was fear and awe in his narrow face. The same as those who had seen him down in the fissures as he reached out glowing golden fingertips. “H-How do you know my name? Wh-who—were you on the bridge? Were you at the protest?” Viktor dove back into his store of memories, even as the blood flowed freely from his nostrils, and caught little rumors of a protest quashed in blood, a ruinous start to the hopes of independence.

A night where no one would take notice of a fire and a murder in the caverns near the creeks.

“I’m Viktor.” Viktor responded in his most gentle tone. It was Jayce’s opinion, broadcast from the glowing filaments of their bond, that the mellow notes of Viktor’s accent could soothe anyone. “I’ll get you somewhere safe.” Having lived so long brushing shoulders with death and touching any number of diseased souls who came to him for help, Viktor wasn’t at all squeamish when reaching down to run his thumb along the blistering edge of Silco’s facial wound. “Though this looks serious. I don’t know if I’ll be able to save your eye. What happened?”

He had meant the question more to determine what kind of chemicals had burned him so badly but he paused when Silco’s mouth dropped and he keened in pain. Viktor choked on his breath as he recognized the cry.

It was the same noise he wanted to make when Jayce looked at him with no recognition or turned away entirely. It was the sound of a man whose heart had been torn away by someone beloved and crushed in formerly gentle hands. A kindred spirit. The feeling was so terrible that Viktor could quietly admit he preferred the feeling of death. His eyes brimmed over but his hands were steady as he cleared the wet hair from Silco’s face. He didn’t fight it as the man seized his wrist and sobbed into Viktor’s palm.

“I’ll get you somewhere safe.” He promised again, “But we’ll have to wait until you have the strength to stand. I can’t carry you…but I will heal you.” His nose dripped blood steadily onto the rocky banks as he searched for any medicinal memories and waited for Silco to get up.

Viktor had changed something very important. He could feel it in his heart: some movement of fate had been averted. 

Chapter Text

Silco wept in the nights.

The first night was the most fraught, with the after effects of the failed protests. Viktor’s heart nearly stopped on seeing groups of Enforcers trawling the streets to choruses of ‘murder’ and the accompanying shatter of glass bottles and explosions of colored smoke from the incensed locals. Silco was shivering and staggering from being forced to walk in cold, wet clothes and with his wound weeping pus and blood; he wouldn’t be much help in a skirmish. Though it took twice as long, they kept to the side streets and took an elevator further from the Lanes down to Viktor’s fissure. 

Silco didn’t complain once during the walk and made no comment over the state of his accommodations—a camp bed in an old greenhouse. The tough thing, he bit back any noise of pain as Viktor cleaned and dressed his wound, and sat patiently while Viktor walked around his lab, muttering to himself as he mixed materials for the medication. He only made one comment after Viktor had explained his poultice and cautioned Silco about the bleak prospects of saving his eye.

“Your…nose is bleeding.” His voice was raspy, likely from a mix of smoke inhalation and strangulation.

Viktor cursed under his breath as he wiped the small drip of blood away. His body had gotten used to the strain of recalling certain memories but sometimes when he had to do a deep dive for niche information, the blood and headaches came back. “I’ll bring down a surgeon once things have calmed topside.” He paused before gently probing for more information, “Are things bad near the border?”

Silco’s expression stayed neutral but he could not hide the deep devastation in his remaining eye. “I-I,” his voice broke, “wouldn’t go close for a while.”

Viktor nodded. The moment he turned his back to boil and filter some water for drinking, he heard Silco lay down in the cot and turn so that he was facing away from Viktor, rebuffing any further conversation. Viktor didn’t mind and pretended not to notice as he saw Silco’s slender shoulders shaking with silent cries. 

One could empathize. If only…if only, he could touch the man’s mind and soothe his pain. No. No, it was no longer his place.

Fate had deposited Silco into Viktor’s care and he was going to keep him alive with the strength of his medicinal skills. 

Viktor made his insistences to Sky and she spread the word around town that all sales would be done out of Viktor’s childhood apartment. That way no customers would discover Silco or disturb his rest in the greenhouse. The enforcers were still looking for him as the man who’d incited the riot on the border bridge but Viktor knew they wouldn’t search so deep in the fissures. 

And besides, the whispered rumors were that Silco had died from his injuries or drowned in the canal. Viktor would keep him safe…even if Silco seemed to want to fight at every turn.

Viktor could feel Silco staring at him as he limped around his greenhouse. “The chemical burns aren’t septic at the very least. I may not be able to save your eye but the wound won’t grow any worse.”

“You don’t wonder what happened? No curiosity for the grisly details?” The lack of sleep from his waking nightmares put Silco in a drawn, irritable mood and he stared at Viktor with glittering eyes as Viktor changed out his bandages. “I’m sure the city is buzzing with rumors now that the casualty lists have been posted. Is my name on them?”

His elegant voice was deep with hurt and Viktor kept his tone sweetly mellow in response. “I almost never leave my research. There are things I want to accomplish and I simply can’t spare the time to eavesdrop…not until the air down in the fissures are clear.”

In spite of the tremendous pain Silco must have felt as Viktor dabbed medicated ointment on his wound, he didn’t so much as wince. “Your research? What are you…?” Someone so curious would pull through, Viktor was sure of it.

He had always been too nervous to present his research to the general populace of Piltover but it wasn’t so terrible to talk through his most recent findings with a single audience member. With Silco as a captive audience, Viktor filled him in on every intricacy of the new plants he and Sky had been breeding, the apothecaries they’d been stocking, and the filtration masks they’d improved. Silco listened silently, his eyes lucid and glittering even in the dark.

He only asked a single question after Viktor had finished. “Do you truly think it will change anything?” His tone was steeped in bitterness that might have stung anyone else.

Viktor had seen too much of life to care.

He shrugged as he mixed powdered ingredients into clean, boiled water. “It’s what I can accomplish with the strength I have. I’m no fighter and leadership didn’t suit me either. But if I can help people breathe, even a little easier…then it might help all of the undercity.” He had never lost the desire that he and Jayce had started with: to help people. “Surely you must understand the sentiment.”

Silco’s gaze was far away when Viktor turned back to face him. “I…just wanted them to stop killing us. I suppose it was too much to ask.” 

Viktor nodded. “Here. For the pain.”

When he saw the medicine Viktor proffered, Silco’s defensive walls went back up and he turned his head away. “Spare me. I’d rather feel it.”

Viktor didn’t argue and placed the medicine and fresh water within arm’s reach of the bed. It was better that Silco felt pain than numbness. Thinking of Jayce’s broad back silhouetted by the evening lights of the city, Viktor knew he had pulled back worse from the brink of destruction. I won’t let you die. I can’t. You’re too important.

It became their daily ritual: Viktor calmly going through his research in between dressing Silco’s bandages while Silco cycled between bristling with distrust and opening up in dazed disbelief. Viktor accepted whatever the man threw at him without complaint. And his mathematical, engineering mind began to notice a pattern.

“Your leg…was it…my doing?” Silco asked as he ignored the food Viktor offered.

“No, I was born with it growing wrong. Only the brace kept it from ruining the spine as well.” His efforts had paid off and the worst he suffered was the ache in his leg and hip; his spine and lungs had been spared.

“I thought I’d come so far in life without great injury…working in the mines, little acts of rebellion, breathing through wet rags to avoid a Chronic. I thought I’d avoided crippling myself.” 

Viktor was no longer offended by people who said flippant things about their new disabilities.

He’d seen enough desolation and self-loathing from the people who came to his commune thinking that any sort of meaningful life had been snatched from them. Hell, he’d felt that way about himself. Jayce had loved him and found him worthy. He had been loved, in spite of his ‘imperfections’.

Silco laughed bitterly as he stared at the ceiling. “All for nothing. Not after he crushed my face and poisoned the wound.”

He.

Viktor became well acquainted with the mystery man as weeks passed in the greenhouse. An object of deep love and intense vitriol, Silco seemed to oscillate deeply in his feelings towards the man by day.

“It was…a miscalculation.” Silco murmured another evening, his good eye remaining dry while the tear ducts in his ruined eye gave him away. “I didn’t think that the Enforcers would massacre us for it. That they’d kill Felicia.” His voice choked on her name and Viktor was too late to react before Silco ground his palms against his eyes. It must have hurt terribly. “I didn’t—”

His anger was an electric current in the air when his mood changed and Viktor could see the shadow of the ruthless man he’d become in another life. “And as much as I hate those blue-belly bastards, his betrayal is worse than anything Piltover could have done! To blame me? When I can’t stand one more day with the crush of a boot on my neck? For once, I thought we could fight back! As one united force!” 

Only then hours later to stare up in despondence, perhaps hoping to see stars through miles of pollution. “In some terrible way…I’m less shocked by the deaths of my friends.” Silco’s voice cracked as he confessed, “It was more…expected that the Enforcers would resort to violence. But…him trying to kill me? That wasn’t…it was never a scenario I’d thought possible.” His hands went over his eyes to staunch the emotion welling up, “I…it hurts. I think…it may be the worst pain in the world.”

Viktor understood.

When Silco burned and hallucinated with fever, Viktor murmured his own pain. How the thousands of instances of pain and degradation he’d suffered from Piltover faded to insignificance in face of the pain he felt when he saw Jayce pull the trigger on his hammer. “He blasted my chest wide open.” Viktor admitted as he set a wet cloth on Silco’s forehead. “The pain followed…even after my body was gone. That betrayal…it does hurt worse than death. I agree with you.”

“Then…I’d rather die.”

He wasn’t being hyperbolic. The fire that had kept him alive and willing to go on seemed to snuff out in the water and the fever continued. He had miscalculated the depths of Silco’s grief and he remembered Jayce teasing him.

You’re so hasty, Viktor. No wonder the calculations are off.

He had to be hasty. In his past life he was racing against death and now he was trying to stop complete annihilation. He’d encountered enough roadblocks to wish for the peace of death but never had anyone fought him as fiercely as Silco. 

He outright refused medicine. When Viktor tried to put it in his food or water, Silco could sense it as if by magic. Vengeful, he forced himself to vomit on the floors and watched Viktor with determination as Viktor cleaned up the mess. Too many tries, and he began to refuse food altogether. Only once when Silco was at his weakest did Viktor try to give him medication intravenously, but he never tried again after Silco ripped the needle from his arm and sucked the medicated blood out in a craze.

Viktor wanted to scream after he’d finished wiping up all the blood but he was too exhausted to do anything other than sit with his head in his hands. It couldn’t end. Not like this…not when he’d been trying so hard.

“You sweet Bloomer, you’ve done enough.” Silco was gentle after his little victories, “I’m a lost cause. Let me go.”

“Why?” Viktor asked. A part of him was offended. He had been so desperate to live, he felt it was a bitter waste to see someone throw away the gift of life he’d always wanted. “Is there…really nothing to fight for?” Singed had cultivated the pain and hate into a reason to go on but now…there was nothing.

“You can’t possibly understand, dear boy. You don’t have the courage to die.” The milky, blinded eye seemed to bore into Viktor’s heart. “Just like I don’t have the courage to live. It’s so…hard to live like this. To fight so hard for so long and then all progress be gone in an instant. I’m tired of fighting.”

I never wanted this! Beloved Jayce, close to crying, and Viktor should have turned back to hold him. He understood that Jayce had the courage to die…but he could not bear to see death take the person he loved. Something had to be done…for Jayce.

It was a seemingly unsolvable problem: Silco could not die but Viktor could not force the man to fight for his life. 

He was withering away to nothing, refusing food; Viktor knew if it continued, he would die sooner rather than later. He needed help. In his desperation, Viktor sat on the lip of his fountain and crossed his legs painfully in an approximation of how he would delve into the arcane in his commune. It was less meditative than before; he rushed through memories as quickly as his mind could bear, looking for anything he may have missed before. 

It was Powder, the undercity rebel and jinx of Piltover, that finally gave him what he needed.

Viktor felt it in his own muscles as if he was walking in her dancing gait down the uneven path of an old mineshaft. She could see fairly well in the dark but her sister—Violet, the concept of her was a swirling mixture of love, admiration, bitterness, and hatred—lit the lanterns in a makeshift breakroom that had been cut into the rock walls. In the room Viktor saw a leather jacket much like the one he’d gently removed from Silco’s wet body, tucked into a larger jacket of the same make. His heart was in his throat as Violet read the letter aloud—

It was him. This was the source of Silco’s despair.

Viktor bolted upright and then immediately slumped back down onto his fountain. He’d been gone for so long that it was close to sunset and his hips and legs ached from being in the same position for too long. He nearly vomited into the water but bit back the bile until his bottom lip bled. There was no time for the pain.

He rubbed his palms hard into his sore joints until the feeling came back to his leg and he could hobble to the door. He could see the shimmer of tears on Silco’s cheeks from the threshold and braced himself for a long, difficult walk.

“Blisters and bedrock.” He said the words without knowing what they really meant.

Silco’s breath was a rattle as he tried to speak. “Not anymore…”

“Like hell.” Viktor responded. “Stay alive a little longer. I’ll be back.”

Viktor pushed through the pain as he used Violet and Powder’s memories to trace their path down to one of the thousands of abandoned mineshafts in Zaun. He was in the right place: the unearthly footprints glowed softly in the darkness, leading him forward. The uneven ground was hell on his ankles but the white fungi on the wall lit his path as he followed the footsteps through the maze of tunnels. He was sweating as he reached his destination and swiped the envelope from the table.

Changing fate; the sisters would never find the letter this time.

There was no time to bask in victory while Silco could be losing his strength by the second. His leg was on fire, an exquisite pain he hadn’t had to suffer through in years, and he almost had to drag it as a dead weight behind him as he made his final trudge back through the Nautilus Fissure.

Silco’s head lolled as Viktor shouldered open the glass doors. “Bloomer. You look like hell.”

“I need you to read this,” Viktor groaned as he collapsed in the stool he’d set up next to Silco’s bedside. “Please.”

“I was under the impression that…final requests were given by the dying. Not that it…matters.” He plucked the letter from Viktor with trembling fingers. “I’ll humor you since you’ve done more than you should have to try and save my sorry life.” Viktor watched Silco’s eye move across the parchment as he caught his breath; he wanted to see the reaction, if his gamble had paid off.

Silco’s hands trembled on the sheaf of paper, his expression crumpling before he crushed the letter to his chest. Wait. Viktor didn’t move or speak as Silco vomited bile over the side of his cot. The air itself tasted sweet as he watched Silco press the apology to his bare chest and try to bring his heart back under control.

“Live.” Viktor breathed. “Live…for him” For Jayce.

Silco stared him down in the dark. Even now, with his last card played, Viktor did not know for sure what Silco would do. It seemed like a millennia passed before the man slumped in his bed, all of the fight leaving his gaunt body. “Damn. I…suppose there’s still some fight left in me after all. Could I trouble you to deliver a message for me, dear boy?” 

Viktor scrambled for a spare piece of paper and a pen, scarcely blinking as Silco scribbled his response. “So long as you stay alive. Just a little longer.”

“Ha! You’ll find that I’m quite stubborn…once I make up my mind.” Silco coughed a laugh. “Take this to…to Vander. Please.”

He. Vander.

Viktor knew of Vander; hell, everyone who needed some sort of moral compass in the undercity did.

He owned the Last Drop, which was as close to a peaceful neutral ground as could be found in the undercity, and was the person who people came to when serious issues needed to be resolved. Like Jayce, he was a man with presence, someone who people admired and trusted and flocked to. Though the bar was a boisterous sort of place that Viktor usually avoided, he felt safety wrap around him like a blanket. It didn’t take a memory search to assure himself that he would come to no harm within the four walls of the bar.

It took Viktor an age to make his way to the bar but he nearly fainted when he saw the sturdy man working there. He knew this man’s burning soul. He’d been a monster before with a mind that was half-bestial from the chemical torture he’d undergone. Vander. The memories of the massive wolf creature led in by his daughters hit Viktor with scorching heat.

This was the man he’d been trying to claw back from insanity in his commune.

He almost couldn’t speak for his shock but he was saved when the man addressed him first. Gray-blue eyes ringed with exhaustion flicked over Viktor without actually seeing him, “Mix you a drink, bloomer?” He moved slowly from where Silco had stabbed his side and Viktor realized what a blow Piltover had made to two formidable opponents.

Viktor scarcely registered the surprise over Vander knowing who he was. He was hit with the sudden understanding of why Silco wept every night. He pulled the envelope from the inner pocket of his robe and handed it over to Vander, his mouth moving without him thinking, “Silco’s response.”

There was the sound of shattering glass as Vander dropped the one in his hand.

Hope lit embers deep in Vander’s eyes and he reached for the response with trembling hands. “Where—i-is he—he’s alright?” His voice was shaking worse than his hands as he ripped into the envelope and began to read through the letter.

“He’s alive. I’ve been tending to him at my home in the Nautilus Fissure but…his heart isn’t in it. I fear he’ll continue to decline unless—”

Vander was able to come to his own conclusions as he finished reading.

While his eyes scanned the text, he strode over from behind the bar and began giving commands while on the move. “Bar’s closed. Everyone finish your drinks and go home.” In any other bar in the city, there would have been a riot. But Vander’s reputation and the steel in his voice were something that no one present wanted to challenge. “Let me drop the kids with Benzo and I’ll follow you down.”

Viktor noticed the four children huddled in a booth towards the back of the bar. They all shared the same tight-lipped, wide-eyed stare of people who lived in constant fear of new, traumatic events. The girls looked so familiar, so—

He remembered them on the silent ride down to the fissure: the sisters, the catalysts, Violet and Powder.

Blood ran freely from both nostrils as he and Vander took the elevator down to the fissures, the memories hitting him in an onslaught. Two lives running parallel to the drama in Piltover, a family tragedy that had altered the fate of the world. The spread of Shimmer, the cracking of hextech, the bomb in the council chambers, the martial law, the taming of Singed’s creature, the reinforcements at the hexgates. Vander hadn’t noticed Viktor bleeding for all he was trying to read the letter again in the occasional slices of green light and Viktor wiped the blood away with his sleeve.

He was already planning the updates to his notes—he had already ingratiated himself with Silco and he could appeal to Powder’s innovative spirit—and he felt a twinge of guilt over how calculating he had become towards the community. For the sake of the calamity he’d started, Viktor knew he would have to stay close to this little patchwork family.

“—begged him not to escalate and I had…n-no idea that he’d brought a molotov.” It took Viktor a moment to realize that Vander was talking aloud, almost in a trance. “S-So many people dead from our careless actions.” Vander put his head in his hands. “I…I wanted to kill the Enforcers b-but it would only lead to more death and I…I…” 

Viktor didn’t interject. He understood the helplessness. How even being the most powerful man in the undercity was still less than dirt in the eyes of the lowest Enforcer grunt. With the propaganda and generations of internalized classism, Viktor was not surprised that Vander’s first wave of helpless grief and anger was towards the man who started a fire and not the Enforcers who’d killed people for it.

“It’s not too late.” Was his only assurance, “There’s still time to make things right. For him.” For Jayce.

The second batch of his and Sky’s flowers were beginning to push through the silty soil of the Nautilus Fissure, the shoots defiantly green amidst the gray-violet dust. But Vander didn’t seem to notice. A man possessed, he moved to the greenhouse in long strides the moment Viktor pointed it. Thanks to Viktor’s leg, he was left behind almost immediately and his stilted hitch step gave them a few minutes of privacy.

Viktor felt a lump in his throat and bitterness in his heart as he entered his glass-paneled home and found Silco in Vander’s arms.

They were both weeping, their foreheads nuzzled together in an intimate gesture that almost had Viktor averting his eyes. He wanted it. He wanted to be held so badly that his teeth ached and his legs felt ready to give out. He leaned against the doorframe and let himself slide down until he was seated on the stone floors. All his hard work and he felt no closer to what he actually wanted.

Jayce.

Viktor held his torso to keep the powerful ache in his chest contained. He was vaguely aware that Vander and Silco were whispering in gentle urgent tones but their worlds did not rejoin until Vander bolted over and bodily hoisted Viktor from the floor. Vander crushed his forehead against Viktor’s in a move of sudden, shocking intimacy that Viktor hadn’t shared with any man since Jayce. The heat of living skin touching his had his heart racing.

“Bloomer,” There was no vestige of teasing in the way Vander said Viktor’s nickname. He spoke as if Viktor was deserving of the greatest veneration, similar to the way all the broken souls in his commune had once thought of him. “How…how can I ever thank you?”

Vander’s emotion was such that he took Viktor’s place and fell to his knees on the floors, holding Viktor aloft with his hands. Only then did Viktor push his feelings down and resume his calm, professional veneer. 

He set his hand on Vander’s bowed head. “Help him recover. Please.”

When Vander raised his head, Viktor nudged him to stand and Silco coughed a weak laugh from his bed. “It’s no use, Vander. The boy is utterly incorruptible; selfless through and through, in spite of my best efforts to have him abandon this lost cause.”

“Fatalistic humor aside,” Viktor gently extricated himself from Vander’s hands before either of them caught on that there was more fate at play than his own gentle nature, “the undercity can’t afford a rift between two of its natural leaders. The city will be better off with the two of you in full health…together.”

“No interest in leadership, you said? We’ll make an orator out of you yet.” Silco joked as he swung his legs out of bed. “I’m incredibly persuasive at full strength.” He was still so weak, Vander scrambled to get to him and Viktor went to hold the door.

“Let’s get you home,” Vander murmured as he hoisted Silco up against his side.

In spite of everything, Viktor would miss having the company and he rested his hand on Silco’s shoulder as they passed. “If it’s not an imposition, I’ll come up to check on your wound and bring additional medicine. If you need it.”

His reunion with Vander had given Silco enough energy to seize Viktor’s hand. His good eye sparked with the intensity of a man who was not going to die anytime soon. “Viktor. I owe you my life. Anything you need, anything at all…I’ll do everything in my power to give it to you.”

Viktor bowed his head, understanding the gravitas of this gift he’d been offered. He wouldn’t let it go to waste.

Watching Vander half-carry Silco back, all other emotions were drowned out in favor of helpless envy.

Many in Piltover would find Vander a fool to still love the man whose actions had resulted in the death of their friend, or be appalled at Silco for taking back the man who’d tried to kill him. But Viktor couldn’t judge them. Jayce had loved him, even after his selfishness had killed Sky. And Viktor would take Jayce back every time, in every lifetime…even though Jayce had screamed before blasting a hole in his chest.

It was devotion and insanity, love that was chaotic and ever-evolving. Despite the pain, he was still waiting for Jayce to come back to him.

With the end coming close for his mother, Viktor paused his preparations to spend as much time by her bed as possible. He knew the deadline and he wanted to make every moment count.

He sketched her profile in his notebooks and wrote down all of the sweet things she told him, things he should have heard before, in his past life. Viktor swore he wouldn’t miss a single thing with this second chance at life. As his birthday approached, Viktor braced himself for the temptation to slip into Piltover again.

His mother, as expected, called him into her room on the night before his nineteenth birthday and shakily held up his gift. In his previous life, the wrapping paper had been butcher paper wrapped in twine but this time, thanks to the money from his and Sky’s ventures, his mother had been able to afford colored paper. Viktor took it and smiled questioningly, even though he already knew the contents.

“I had…” even speaking was a great strain on his mother but Viktor treasured every rattling word, knowing there wasn’t much time left, “the idea for this when you were a little boy, when you first showed interest in your little machines. I know you’ve switched your interests more to plants but…I think it will still help you get what you want.” Unless Jayce’s memories were in the package in front of him, Viktor very much doubted it but he smiled at her thoughtfulness. “Open it, my love. Tell me what you think.”

Unbidden, tears slipped down his cheeks as he saw the familiar cut of the Piltover Academy uniform. His first time touching it, he’d been in awe of how fabric could feel so buttery-soft. If he could just wear it one more time, tread that familiar path back into the halls he knew so well—

“You shouldn’t have. I…I haven’t been accepted. And I won’t leave you, Mama.”

“You have to.” His mother insisted. “There’s no future down here…not for someone as brilliant as you. My dear Viktor.” Her hand was a negligible weight against his cheek. “You can change the world, my love.”

Viktor nodded, even though he had already tasted the feeling of truly changing the world. It was beautiful, Mama. Beautiful and terrible. The timeline could not play out in the same way and Viktor knew he could not join the academy again. He wasn’t sure if he’d have the strength to avoid following Jayce’s dreams a second time.

No, he had come up with a better option years prior.

“Sky.” She smiled at him from across the table in her small apartment and Viktor knew, from the smile alone, that he had made the correct decision. “I have something for you.” He took the uniform from his bag and rested it in front of her. “It’s a Piltover Academy uniform. My mother, that delinquent, gave it to me with the intent that I should sneak into the lecture halls without being noticed and potentially make something of myself in Piltover. But…I’m going to stay in the undercity. I want you to take it instead. And of course I’ll pay to have it tailored to fit you.” 

“Why?” Sky asked as she accepted the uniform, pressing it against her chest. “Viktor, she bought it for you. You should be the one going to the academy, not me. All the things we’ve done, the advancements we’ve made, are because of you.” Viktor smiled fondly at her as she continued on with her arguments with the clothes cradled close. She deserved it all. If only so he could atone…

He waited for her to finish before tucking her hands more securely around the bundle. Now it was his turn.

“It can only be you, Sky. All of this success came from an idea that you gave me. Please take it.”

Sky searched his expression for any reluctance before her eyes brimmed over. “Thank you…Viktor. I…I…” He knew she loved him deeply and would move heaven and earth for him after such a gesture. She would likely find his cunning jarring but she was taking a risk and only Viktor knew exactly how to navigate the way into the assistant’s position.

“Listen to me, Sky.” He spoke quickly so she could not get a word in edgewise. “Listen carefully and I’ll tell you how you’ll be allowed into the Academy in Piltover. I’ve made detailed instructions on how you’ll be able to slip in and avoid notice, along with a list of classes you’ll need to take.” He handed over the sheaves of paper that were almost a memoir of how he’d been able to bypass the limitations of his nationality and talk his way into a university post, “On this day you’ll be able to slip into the Dean’s personal library and he’ll catch you there. You want him to catch you, Sky. If you bluff and insist you’re the dean’s assistant, Professor Heimerdinger will be so impressed by your desire to learn that he’ll actually offer you the position. You just have to hold your nerve and—”

He’d been so caught up in his own monologue that it took him a moment to register Sky’s reaction.

The normal look of loving admiration she usually fixed him with was gone, replaced by unsettled fear. It was the same reaction of anyone who heard him say things that he couldn’t possibly know, the same reaction as the people who came to the herald seeking healing. Every living creature had a small touch of the arcane in their souls, even if they weren’t able to harness magic, and there was some kind of primal instinct that had their hackles up when Viktor used his own knowledge of the arcane to push his agenda. They seemed to know that his prescience was inhuman just as his evolved, violet body had been a crude imitation of his muscles and ligaments.

Sky was no different. She could sense something was off. “Viktor…how do you know all of this? H-How can you be so sure?” 

Dear Sky. She was so brilliant, it was an incredible tragedy that she had been taken too soon in his previous life. Viktor had never been overtly tactile with his affections but he made a rare exception. Sky relaxed as he leaned forward and embraced her. “Please…please trust me. This will work.”

It took her a little longer than usual but she nodded and accepted the papers from him before stepping back out of his arms. She’d always loved him, in one way or another, but he could sense her affections had changed in a split second after catching this otherworldly glimpse of him.The same look many had before he’d put his fingertips on them and taken their pain. 

“If this works and you ever need anything, Viktor,” it was a familiar refrain he’d heard before, “just send word. I’ll do everything I can to help you.”

He’d accumulated thousands of favors over the years from so many people in the undercity. Times like these, he was wracked with guilt as people mistook his intentions for genuine benevolence. He did care for everyone around him, but he also had ulterior motives that had been building up for years.

The date was fast approaching when Jayce’s illicit experiments would be discovered and Viktor had to prepare to call in those favors from friends in high places.