Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Viktor was not a popular professor. He was barely a professor at all, to tell the truth. A junior position in the biology department had come up two and a half years ago. He had gone from toiling as an assistant to teaching first year classes and filling in for the more senior professors when the occasion arose. It was boring. Biology was not even his field of study. Not that he had an official field of study, unless memorizing Heimerdinger’s insane organizational system, a thing built over centuries, counted. His life was a monotony quickly slipping through his fingers. His leg and back were failing. He felt old before his time and there was the ever-ticking clock hanging over his head.

There had been a promise of something more, once. An explosion. A journal that was meant to be destroyed. A theory so insane it barely made sense until you looked closer and realized that the science was sound. However, it was not to be. A child had died. He could still remember her still form. Her sister screaming over her body. The two brothers dumbfounded and tearful. A horrible scene. Heimerdinger had ordered everything to be destroyed. He had kept a few of the more interesting pieces though. And the journal, of course. Adding his own notes, fixing the original theory’s mistakes. A fun thought experiment that would be burnt upon his death, most likely by Heimerdinger with his unnaturally long life.

The man who came up with the theory was long gone. Exiled, Viktor thought. There was a trial. He hadn’t heard what happened afterwards. Sometimes, he imagined writing a letter, explaining that he saw the merit in his work even if it could never be put to any practical use. But Viktor didn’t know his address or even what country he had washed up in. Just the name. Jayce Talis. It was signed in elegant Academy script at the bottom of every page.

He was flipping through it again, pages so well worn, content half-memorized when there was a knock at his door. He sighed and put it away. He could see it now. A penitent first year begging for an extension. A colleague with a cold asking him to take their fifth period class. A high house heir with more money than brains demanding he change their grade even though they got every single answer on the last exam blatantly wrong. He took special pride in failing those students. He was one of the few professors who did.

“Come in,” he called out, already exhausted, already ready to go home.

The door opened and Heimerdinger stepped in. Viktor sat up straighter at that, sending a twinge through his back. He had vanished about three years ago. Viktor had barely kept his position at the Academy. He had bone to pick with him.

“Professor! What--” he spluttered out.

“Viktor! Goodness, is this your office?” the yordle said, pattering about, looking at his things.

“I—yes? You put me here,” Viktor replied.

“Did I? Hm. Much too small. But my! You are looking well. Much better than the last time I saw you.”

“I sincerely doubt that, professor,” Viktor said flatly. “Where have you been? After you left, I nearly—”

“Beside the point. I have a proposition for you.”

“Professor, with all due respect—”

“I am in need of your help,” Heimerdinger said, steamrolling over him in an instant. “My young friend and I are in a…pickle. I think you can help.”

“Pickle?”

“Yes. A colloquialism. It means trouble. Tight spot. Clusterf—”

“I know what a pickle is, professor,” Viktor said, wry grin. He found that he still liked Heimerdinger despite himself.

“Yes, well. You were always very clever. But may I…may I explain? Or…Ekko?” Heimerdinger said, poking his head out of the door and yelling into the hallway.

Viktor waited, amused. It was the most interesting thing to happen to him all week. All month, even. A moment later, a young man with dark skin and blond hair stepped into his office. Ekko, presumably. Next to him was a young woman with blue hair pulled into two buns. Viktor’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped.

“Powder?” he asked.

The girl jumped. Then she looked at him, head tilted to the side.

“Yes?” she replied.

“You must not remember me. I was…I was there, when—after the accident. I…spoke to your father, the large one—”

“Vander.”

“Yes. Him. I offered to help you get a place in the Academy, when, if, you were ready. Is that what this is about?” Viktor asked, heart leaping a little. It had been the least he could do and was not a repayment for what had happened to her sister, but at least it was something. No one else at the Academy had done anything for the poor girl.

“Oh. Um, nope. Too much to do at home,” Powder said with a self-conscious laugh.

“Ah. I see. What then?” Viktor asked tersely, turning back to Heimerdinger.

“An experiment! My boy, when I tell you I have seen the most wonderous things. Why—”

“What kind of experiment?” Viktor interrupted. He knew better than to let Heimerdinger get going when he started talking about the wonders of science.

“Hextech,” Ekko said.

Viktor blanched. His hand went automatically to the drawer that held Jayce Talis’s notebook. No one else knew that word. Jayce Talis had written it in the margin, a funny little half speech he intended to give when it worked. Viktor had it memorized. Jayce Talis’s personality shone through sometimes. He was charming, boyish, naïve, and wildly intelligent. Viktor wished he had gotten the chance to know him.

“How do you know that word?” Viktor asked.

“Long story,” Ekko shrugged.

“I think I have time.”

Ekko looked at Heimerdinger, who shrugged back, then glanced at Powder, who looked just as clueless as Viktor felt. Viktor stood. He made his way to the door and shut it, locking it decisively, and turning to the group.

“Sit. I can offer you sweetmilk or tea if you would like,” he said.

“Nothing for me,” Ekko said.

“I’m okay,” Powder said with a grin.

“A little of both, thank you. Do you have anything fruity?” Heimerdinger said, making himself at home, which was typical.

“Only black, I’m afraid,” Viktor replied with a small eyeroll.

“Like your soul?” Powder said, catching his eye and grinning.

“Just so,” Viktor said, smiling back as he went to make the tea.

There was an old electric kettle he’d rewired in one corner, on top of a small ice box. The faculty kitchen was down a flight of stairs. It was too much trouble to walk up and down several times a day, so he’d had to make do. Powder, to his small surprise, jumped up to help him, shrugging when he insisted it was fine.

“I’m good at tea. My dads run a bar and I’ve been helping since I was…I don’t know. Ten? What do you like in yours?” she asked, all charm.

“Sugar. And sweetmilk. A lot of both,” Viktor answered, going back to his seat.

Sitting was a relief. His back was getting worse. He had a brace, but it was uncomfortable and bulky. He had a design for a better one, but no one had agreed to make it. Too complicated, they said, too finicky. Which was nonsense.

He watched Powder, humming to herself as she made the tea. She was carefree, happy even. A far cry from the sobbing child he’d last seen. It was a relief. He had thought of her often. If he helped Heimerdinger, which he thought was very likely given how dull his actual job was, perhaps he could get to know her a little.  

They sat in an awkward silence until Powder finished making the tea. Viktor took a sip. It wasn’t sweet enough, but he drank it anyway. Better to spare the girl’s feelings.

“Well. Now that that is settled, the experiment. Ekko and I were trying to create an anomaly in the very fabric of the Arcane. It—” Heimerdinger said.

“Impossible,” Viktor replied quickly, starting to fear this was a waste of time.

“No! We have…we can do it. We just need more information,” Ekko interjected. Viktor raised an eyebrow. The boy’s passion was inspiring.

“I…fine. If it is possible, then why do you need my help and what does this have to do with Hextech?” Viktor asked.

“Hextech is inextricably linked with the Arcane. To understand exactly what it is capable of, we need an expert. I am not from this universe,” Heimerdinger said seriously. “In mine, you and Jayce invented Hextech. You were the only ones who could. I believe that ability is still in you, my boy, but we will have to start from scratch. Ekko was able to copy down Jayce’s diagrams from the chalkboard in his apartment, but, well, they are incomplete.”

Viktor honestly had stopped listening after Heimerdinger claimed that he was from another universe. That was also impossible. The whole thing was impossible and beginning to feel a bit like a fever dream. Or a prank being pulled on him and a cruel one at that. But Heimerdinger, for all his flaws, was not cruel and there was no reason for Ekko or Powder to bare him any ill will either. It took a moment for his mind to catch up with the rest. When it did, he was left blinking, confused, and, for the first time in years, a little excited.

“That is…implausible. All of it is,” Viktor said.

“Many things are, my dear boy, but that does not stop them from being true,” Heimerdinger replied.

“And…and I can help,” Viktor said. Heimerdinger may have gone off the deep end with his other universe theory, but Hextech was real.

“Splendid! Let’s go then, posthaste! We haven’t much time and—”

“A moment, professor. I have a class in…two hours and I cannot simply run off to the Undercity,” Viktor said wryly, tapping his crutch for emphasis.

“I’ll get someone else to teach it. Now let’s—”

“Also, well, I, um, well, I suppose it doesn’t matter now,” Viktor said, opening the drawer and putting Jayce’s notebook on the table. “I may not have destroyed everything, like you asked, after the accident. There’s more at my apartment.”

He glanced at Powder apologetically, who was not looking at him. She was looking at the notebook, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, lost somewhere. Heimerdinger snatched it up at once with a small cry of triumph.

“Excellent! Oh, I should have given you a promotion years ago, Viktor,” Heimerdinger said, sliding from the chair and tucking the notebook under his arm.

Viktor wanted to snatch it back at once, like a child with a favorite toy. There was a strange possessiveness he felt over it. Like it belonged to him or someone he loved, despite never having officially met, or even seen, Jayce Talis. He’d been taken away by enforcers before Viktor had even arrived.

“Powder, you okay?” Ekko asked.

“Yeah, never better!” Powder said, shaking herself out of her trace with a grin. She stood, offered a hand to Ekko, and pulled him up after her. “Let’s go.”

Viktor took great pleasure in watching Heimerdinger obliviously bully the department chair into teaching Viktor’s afternoon Biology 101 class. The Academy rumor mill would be spinning by the time he returned, if he returned. If Heimerdinger was right, if they were going to create Hextech, he would never teach class again. The Academy had been his dream when he was a boy. Now he found the idea of leaving it more and more appealing.

The box of Jayce Talis’s things he’d managed to salvage was kept on a shelf in the back of his closet. He rarely visited them. They felt private, somehow. As if he were intruding. Ekko and Heimerdinger went through the box while Powder went into his courtyard to bother the stray cats who were waiting for him to feed them. After a moment, when he grew tired and annoyed by Heimerdinger and Ekko pawing through the box and the journal, he went to join her, two cans of tuna in hand.

“Here,” he said offering her one.

“Gross,” she replied, wrinkling her nose.

“It’s for the cats. I usually feed them when I get home from work,” Viktor said, reaching down the grey cat who had come to wind around his ankles.

“Oh, right.”

Powder opened the can and set it down in front of her. After a moment, a little calico appeared from the bushes. Powder grinned as she came towards her, belly low, and began eating like she’d never had a meal before. Viktor smiled. He knew that one. She was growing plump off his canned fish. Another cat, orange this time, came to headbutt Viktor’s calf.

“They like you,” Powder said.

“I feed them,” Viktor replied.

“Still. Must be nice.”

“Eh, I always wanted pets when I was little, but…”

“Not enough to go around?”

“Something like that. My parents saved every penny to get me into the Academy,” Viktor said, smiling slightly at the memory.

“Oh. Yeah. We couldn’t have pets either. My dad, the…big one. He’s allergic,” Powder said with a shrug, offering her hand to the calico to sniff.

“Hm. A pity. They seem to like you too.”

Powder smiled and began to scratch the cat behind her ears. Viktor watched her for a moment. He sighed. There was potential in her, he could feel it. He’d seen the way she’d eyed his books, the curiosity at the little inventions he made from scrap to keep his hands busy. She was young still. A little old for an Academy first year, but not unusually so.

“The offer still stands. If you want to go to the Academy, I will do everything in my power to get you there,” he said.

“Yeah, well, that’s very nice of you and all, but…I don’t know. I like working at home. With Ekko. The Young Innovator’s Competition is coming up and I think we have a shot. With the weird Arcane heebie jeebie gizmo,” she said, grinning.

“Is that it’s official name?”

“Yep.”

“Catchy, as they say.”

“Yeah, well. I’m quick,” Powder said with a shrug.

“And you are…fine with this? Using Hextech?”

Powder froze for a moment. Then, very slowly, she nodded, tucking a bit of her hair that had fallen out of her buns behind her ear.

“Vi…my sister. She wouldn’t want me to mope. Or limit myself just because she…you were there?” Powder asked.

“I was there for the aftermath. I…it was a terrible thing. I am sorry, that it happened,” Viktor said seriously. He had the urge to put a hand on her shoulder, but he had never been any good at comforting.

“Yeah, thanks. I…if something good can come out of it, I think it’s okay. Not…not her death, but the crystals. The journal. All of it. You get it?”

“Yes, I get it,” Viktor replied. “And the offer still stands.”

He gave the orange cat one last pet and stood to emphasize the point. Powder stood too, giving him a quick smile. There was an eagerness to her, a solidness. He was glad. He’d been afraid her sister’s death would ruin her whole life.

“Shall we go make sure they are not getting into too much trouble?” Viktor asked.

“Oh yeah. Great idea,” Powder said, taking his arm and leading him into the apartment.

The three of them had been working in a lab in an old airship hanger, on the propellors. And insane workspace. Powder’s. Viktor liked the chaos of it, even if he was half afraid of falling to his death. They made him sit and then showed off their work so far. It was impossible. It was exhilarating.  

“Fascinating,” he said, running a hand over the diagrams done in Powder’s wild hand. “And what do you intend to do with it?”

Ekko told him. An anomaly, a little imperfection in the Arcane to use for their own purposes. Ingenious. Clever. The journal filled holes, the equipment made it all seem more real, and by midnight they had a working theory on how to proceed. Then it failed. Then they tried again. Then it failed and so it went on and on. Heimerdinger and Ekko slept. Powder and Viktor did not. By the afternoon of the next day, Viktor felt delirious. His back and leg ached. His throat was dry. His head hurt and his eyes felt as if they had been replaced with globes made of sand. They still hadn’t made any progress.

“Now what?” Powder asked when the ninth experiment failed.

“I don’t know. I…I need to sit, I think,” Viktor said.

“Yeah, I’ll take over,” Ekko said, heaving himself up from his chair.

Viktor watched them theorize with heavy eyes from his seat. It wasn’t going to work. They needed a new mind. Ekko and Powder were brilliant, geniuses, but they were Undercity. A more chaotic way of thinking. Reckless, willing to take risks. He knew it well. He saw himself in both of them. Heimerdinger was his usual self. Proposing an idea that turned into a long-winded explanation of a paper he’d read fifty years ago. They were getting nowhere. Viktor sighed and took up the notebook. He ran a finger over Jayce Talis’s name and wondered if it would be better if he were there. Then he sat up straight, cursed loudly at the sudden pain in his back, and doubled over, nearly dropping the book.

“My dear boy! Are you all right?” Heimerdinger called out, padding quickly to his side, followed by Powder and Ekko.

“A pain. It will pass, but professor. Do you know what happened to Jayce Talis?” Viktor asked through gritted teeth.

“Exiled, I think. But I don’t know—”

“We need to find him. I think…I think he’ll have the answer. Or an answer, at least.”

“I, well, yes, that could work. You two worked quite well together in my universe! With you two and Ekko and Powder and me, of course, I think we’ll crack it in no time!”

“Good,” Viktor said, sitting back with a sigh. The worst of the pain had passed. He let out a few hacking coughs, covering his mouth with a handkerchief. Ekko and Powder were looking at him with concern. He waived them off. When he took it away, there was no blood. He gave a grim smile and put it in his pocket.

“Where is he? Jayce?” Ekko asked.

“Haven’t a clue,” Heimerdinger said with a shrug.

“He used to be sponsored by the Kirammans. Perhaps they will know,” Viktor said, glad no one questioned how he knew that. There had been a period after he read the journal for the first time when he had been a little obsessed with Jayce Talis and looked up everything he could about him in the Academy files.

“Excellent! We’ll go right away!” Heimerdinger said, marching towards the door.

“Tomorrow, professor. I…I think some rest would do us all good,” Viktor said, leaning back.

“Tomorrow sounds good. I’ve got a shift at the bar anyway,” Powder said.

Heimerdinger wandered off, muttering about wasting time. Viktor smiled, nearly laughed. He could remember a Heimerdinger who wouldn’t let him so much as change a light bulb without a full safety write up. Perhaps he was from a different universe after all.

Chapter Text

News of Heimerdinger’s return ran through the Academy like wildfire. The fact that Viktor was the first person he visited was apparently shocking and Viktor found himself under his colleagues scrutiny for the first time in years. Most of them seemed to think it was absurd the vaulted professor bothered to see him at all, never mind that he had once been both is protégé and assistant. The Undercity and Piltover were more united than they had ever been, but the prejudices still ran deep.

For his part, Viktor did his best to ignore it. Heimerdinger granted him a sabbatical before he could even ask for one, presumptuous, but welcome. He kept his office as a landing spot even though he essentially took up residence in Powder’s lab. Ekko and Powder were welcome company. Ekko was more subdued than Powder, but blazingly intelligent with a sly sense of humor. He reminded Viktor a little bit of the boys he used to wish he could befriend when he was young: brave, cocksure, magnetic. There was a sadness to him too, to both of them really, that Viktor recognized.  They didn’t have a single living biological relative amongst the three of them.

As much as he liked Ekko, Powder was his favorite. She was bright and colorful in every way. Her ideas were beyond what Viktor or Ekko could conceive, and she was a brilliant artist. She took to doodling their faces on the walls of her lab in florescent chalk. She was always blue, usually grinning or sticking her tongue out, Ekko was green, scowling or laughing, Heimerdinger yellow, and cheerful, and Viktor purple, mouth a flat line with one side raised in a smirk, moles dotting his upper lip and cheek. She also began stocking the Danishes from a shop he mentioned liking in her icebox, next to the Undercity junk food and a sickly-sweet orange juice she said was her favorite thing on this planet.  It was a bit like having friends. It was a bit like having a younger sister.

Heimerdinger had barely been in the lab since granting Viktor his sabbatical. He was busy trying to get them an audience with the Kirammans, and it was proving difficult. He kept getting yanked into Academy and Piltover politics against his will. He’d return, frazzled and fluffed up, complaining that everyone wanted a word with him and none of it was very important. Viktor bit back reminders that he had founded the city and that he had more power than any of them to fix the lingering tension and poverty that haunted the Undercity. He caught Powder’s eye from time to time during these diatribes. She’d give him a flat look or roll her eyes. She must have felt the same way. Her fathers were revolutionaries, after all.

Powder and Ekko were bickering softly, flirting really, with their heads bent over their entry for the Young Innovators Competition, now days away. A battery of some kind, Ekko’s idea, something that came to him in a dream apparently. Viktor had become their mentor. Technically, mentors were not necessary, but no one had won without one in at least thirty years. Viktor should know. He had never won himself. It was more of a formality than anything else. They had barely asked for his advice, leaving him free to study Jayce's notes and daydream about his own projects.  

“You got something on your cheek, Pow,” Ekko said from his place on the floor.

“Yeah, well that’s because you got a heavy hand with the axel grease,” Powder shot back, grinning.

“Whatever. It would rust and fall apart if you got your way,” Ekko said, grinning then turned soft and serious. “Hold still. I’ll get it.”

Ekko swiped his thumb over Powder’s cheek. It just smudged the black streak of grease. She was smiling at him, leaning forward slightly. She looked like she was expecting a kiss. Ekko just looked at her for a moment before he got that sad look he got sometimes and sat back.

“All clean,” he said softly.

“Thanks,” Powder said, also softly.

Viktor had seen such exchanges before. It made something in his twist. He’d never had that, only a handful of one-night stands, ignited more out of curiosity than passion, and a two-month long fling with a boy from his old neighborhood right before he came to the Academy. It was not jealousy, just an uncharacteristic wistfulness. There was something odd about Ekko, though. At first, Viktor thought it was just his own presence stopping him from being more affectionate with Powder, but it seemed there was more to it. It would have to remain a mystery, though. It was not his place to pry.

The door burst open, yanking all three of them out of their reverie, and Heimerdinger was standing framed in it, mustache puffed in annoyance. Another botched board meeting, then. Viktor went back to the journal.

“Honestly, I don’t know how I did it before! You’d think not a single person here had ever taught a day in their life,” he said, not bothering to shut the door.

“Hello, professor. Any luck?” Viktor said, starting to get to his feet when it became clear Heimerdinger would not close it. Ekko beat him to it, thankfully, with a wry look at the yordle.

“Hmph. I’m going to officially retire! Effective immediately. The whole Academy is--” Heimerdinger continued as if he hadn’t heard Viktor at all.

“Heimerdinger? The Kirammans?” Ekko asked in the amused tone he took when Heimerdinger was being especially Heimerdinger. He had more patience than Viktor. A good thing, perhaps.

“What? Oh! Yes. I was invited to a party at their house tonight. I wrangled an invitation for the three of you as well. Nothing too fancy. A benefit for the opera, I think. Which does sound lovely. I haven’t been to an opera in…four years? Five. Three? I can’t remember. I hear the new soprano is quite good.”

“Oh. Great,” Ekko said flatly.

Viktor and Powder shared a grimace. He had a feeling Piltie parties were none of their strong suit.

As hard as he tried, Viktor could not find a way to get out of it. Heimerdinger seemed confused by his reticence and Powder and Ekko practically begged him not to abandon them, so he caved. He hadn’t been to a gala in years, since he was Heimerdinger’s assistant, and even then, he’d only gone to keep track of who the yordle talked to and left as soon as was polite. He stared at himself in the mirror. His suit still fit, even if it was a bit shabby. He tucked a red handkerchief into his pocket. The treatments were working, but he lived in fear of a violent coughing fit in front of every single rich person in Piltover. His reputation was dismal enough.

Powder was sent to fetch him, proof that he was less subtle in his favoritism than he suspected. She was dressed in a dress he knew was fancy for the Undercity but would look hopelessly plain at a Kiramman party. Still, she had made an effort. He smiled and let her take his arm as they left his apartment.

“I was half convinced you’d run off,” she said as they made their way to the carriage.

“Eh, I considered it. I thought you would have refused to attend,” he replied.

“Heimerdinger thinks it’s important, so Ekko thinks it’s important,” she said with a shrug.

“I know it is not my place, but...things between the two of you--”

“Fine. We’ve been best friends since we were tiny. He’ll...I think he’s just worried. About the competition and, you know.”

Viktor nodded. He was no stranger to that at least. He had thrown up at his first Young Innovators Competition, alone and embarrassed.

Viktor was ready to go home the moment they arrived. It quickly became clear that he, Ekko, and Powder were underdressed and destined to be ignored all night. Ekko and Powder hung awkwardly on the outskirts, Viktor stood next to them, searching desperately for anyone he knew, and Heimerdinger was whisked into the crowd immediately. Viktor watched as he forgot what they were trying to do the second someone brought up music with a frown. It was awkward. Viktor had two glasses of champagne in quick succession. It did nothing to improve the pain in his back, but his mood did become slightly less sour.

“How are we even supposed to talk to them?” Ekko asked, bitterly as he leaned against the wall.

“I...maybe just go introduce ourselves?” Powder asked. She was leaning next to him, arm linked through his.

“Yeah. Sure. Hey. We’re two trenchers from the Undercity. Mind telling us your deep dark secrets?” Ekko joked.

“Yes, well, some things don’t change,” Viktor sighed, watching one of his colleagues stare blatantly at him and then turn to her companion to gossip. He was uncomfortable. The spotlight had never suited him.

“Well, guess it’s a good thing we didn’t go to the Academy, then?” Powder said, bumping Ekko’s shoulder with her own.

“Guess so,” he replied, with a fond smile.

Viktor scanned the room. He was feeling increasingly like a third wheel. Heimerdinger was talking to Councilor Salo, who he hated, so that nixed that. He saw a few colleagues here and there, but no one he was friendly with. And then, as if it was a miracle, the crowd parted and he saw Sky Young, arm in arm with a slender man with brown hair, talking to a tall woman with dark blue hair and an eyepatch and Councilor Medarda. While Viktor had somewhat mixed feelings about Councilor Medarda, she was intelligent and had once seemed interested in becoming his patron. Nothing had come of it. He had a feeling water filters and prosthetics were somewhat beneath her.

“Excuse me. I see a friend,” Viktor said, catching Sky’s eye and smiling.

“You have those?” Powder asked jokingly.

“Yes. At least two and a half,” he deadpanned and left them.

Sky Young was the closest thing he had to a friend. Or perhaps an actual friend. A few months ago, she had confessed to having feelings for him, which he politely and awkwardly declined. Things had been a little strained ever since, but she sat with him last time he’d bothered going to the cafeteria. The conversation had been easy, mostly about their work and a little bit of Academy gossip. He hoped it was a good sign.

“Viktor! What are you doing here?” she asked as he joined the group, letting go of the slender man’s arm to give him a quick hug.

“Heimerdinger invited me,” Viktor replied.

“Ah, yes. He seems to have taken a renewed interest in you. Any new projects we should know about?” Councilor Medarda asked with a sly smile.

“No. I...I have taken two Undercity students under my wing. I think he is merely interested in them,” Viktor said, nodding towards Ekko, who laughing at something Powder had said.

“Hm. Well then I should like to meet them as well.”

“Later, perhaps. They are busy with their Young Innovators Competition entry,” Viktor said, already debating if introducing the councilor to them was a good idea.

“Of course. But how rude. I haven’t introduced everyone,” Councilor Medarda said as if she were the host of this particular social interaction. “You already know Miss Young, and this is Anton Ivanov, her partner, an up-and-coming pianist with the opera, and Caitlyn Kiramman. You have met her mother, I believe.”

“And father, yes. I attended his lecture series on anatomy in my early Academy days. A very intelligent man,” Viktor said, hardly believing his luck. “Nice to meet you.”

“A pleasure,” Caitlyn said, offering Viktor her hand and a firm handshake.

“I was actually hoping to speak with you, Miss Kiramma--”

“Caitlyn. Please. Caitlyn,” Caitlyn said so quickly Viktor nearly laughed aloud.

“Caitlyn, then. I have a—”  

Caitlyn narrowed her eye and sucked in a breath. The room suddenly felt decidedly icy. Viktor followed her gaze to a young woman with ginger hair across the room, hanging off the arm of a well-dressed woman.

“I know mother didn’t invite...” Caitlyn trailed off with a heavy glare. “I have to go. Excuse me.”

With that, she left in a huff, not even stopping to acknowledge anyone as she stormed out of the room. Viktor felt his heart sink. He had squandered what may be their only opportunity. Councilor Medarda watched her go with a small smile and then glanced at the young, ginger woman, who was standing a little taller and pretending to laugh at something the well-dressed woman said. Or Viktor assumed it was pretend. There was something odd about her.

“Well. I suppose the break-up was not as...amicable as we were led to believe. Not that I blame her. That woman is a shameless social climber,” Councilor Medarda said.

Viktor raised an eyebrow. He didn’t take her for a gossip, but then again, maybe she was trying to say something else that went above his head. Another reason her interest in him hadn’t lasted long. He was not the kind of person she wanted, awkward in front of crowds, face not fit for posters.

“I’ll leave you to it. I’ve just seen Amara and we are overdue for a catch-up. Viktor, I do hope you’ll introduce your young proteges to me soon. They must be quite talented to catch your eye,” she said, putting an elegant hand on Viktor's arm briefly before withdrawing it. “Sky, lovely to meet you. Anton, I do look forward to your next concert. Good evening.”

Councilor Medarda left and with her the strange feeling of being under a spotlight. Sky let out a sigh and grinned. Viktor couldn’t help but smile back. He hadn’t known she was dating anyone. It was a relief. Maybe the lingering awkwardness between them would finally vanish.

“So, Viktor, since when do you take on mentees?” Sky asked, firmly yanking the subject back to something they were all comfortable with.

Viktor paused a moment before answering. He knew the sooner one of them spoke to a Kiramman, the sooner he could leave, but he had a feeling it would take Caitlyn some time to cool off and he had always found her mother a bit intimidating. In the end, he was glad he talked to Sky. The lingering awkwardness between them seemed to vanish with the introduction of Anton, who he rather liked. He was quiet, kind, passionate about music and Sky.

When the conversation petered out, he went in search of Ekko and Powder and found them on the dance floor, giggling as they tried to mimic the staid, formal dances Piltover favored. He watched them for a moment, strangely content to stand by himself in the Kiramman’ s elegant ballroom. He felt less lonely than he had in years. Perhaps he just needed more than two and a half friends.

Powder spotted him, waved, whispered something to Ekko, and then dragged him over. Both were out of breath and grinning.

“I see you’ve having fun,” Viktor said with a smile.

“These Piltie parties aren’t half bad,” Ekko said with a shrug.

“Yeah, as long as you have the right dance partner,” Powder said with a grin. “Any luck finding a Kiramman?”

“Yes. I met the daughter. She seemed…preoccupied,” Viktor said.

“So, you didn’t ask about Jaye?”

“No. Not yet. She…left in a hurry,” Viktor said, eyes flicking to the ginger woman again, who was in the center of a circle of admirers. “Have you seen Heimerdinger? Perhaps we should, eh, regroup.”

“Nah, but…but I think he’s busy,” Ekko said, nodding.

Heimerdinger was also in a circle of admirers, the tuft of his head just visible through the crowd. Viktor rolled his eyes. Up to the three of them, then. He glanced around the room, looking for any sign of Caitlyn. She would be the easiest to speak with. They had already been introduced. Upper crust Piltover customs were still something of a mystery, but he did know that things were easier once pleasantries had been exchanged.

As luck would have it, he spotted her by herself on a balcony. Her arms were folded over the railing, and she was holding a glass of champagne loosely in her grip. Sulking, then. He could understand that. He had done the same from time to time when he had been forced to attend these sorts of things with Heimerdinger.

“Come on. I see Caitlyn Kiramman. Let us try again,” he said, pointing towards the balcony.

“Oh. She’s tall. Cool eyepatch, though,” Powder said, already leading the way.

Caitlyn Kiramman was indeed sulking. She straightened up when she saw the three of them and plastered a smile on her face.

“Hello again. Sorry to have left so suddenly, I was no aware my ex would be here and—” she started.

“No matter. These are my proteges, Powder and Ekko,” Viktor said, making the introductions as quickly as he could.

“Hey,” Powder said with a small wave. “Nice eyepatch. Who’d you piss off?”

“No one,” Caitlyn said icily.

“Sorry,” Powder said with an awkward smile.

“We were wondering if you could help us with something,” Viktor asked, deciding to ignore the interaction entirely.

“Oh, well, my parents are already lending their patronage to another young inventor so—” Caitlyn started, giving Powder a dismissive look.

“No. Not that,” Ekko said. “We were wondering what you knew about Jayce Talis.”

Caitlyn had not been expecting that. Her eye widened and she blinked a few times before downing the rest of her champagne.

“Jayce? What do you want to know about Jayce?” she asked.

“It’s nothing bad, I promise,” Ekko said. “We just know your family was close with him.”

“We were friends. Are still, I suppose although—he’s...well, he was exiled. Seven years ago, now,” Caitlyn said slowly.

“Yes, I know,” Viktor said quickly, excitement building. It felt like they were finally getting somewhere. “I…came across we research. We have been studying it, I think, with his input, we might be able to do great things.”

“No, he wouldn’t...it’s outlawed, for one, and for two, it killed someone. A girl. I...I was there. Horrible thing, really,” Caitlyn said with a small shudder.

“You were there?” Powder asked in a soft voice. Ekko reached out to hold her hand.

“Yes. I was helping Jayce bring some supplies back to his lab. Some...vandals broke in. If they hadn’t, that girl would still be alive, Jayce would still be here, and I would still have my eye. They got off with barely a warning, if you can believe it. It’s why I joined the enforcers,” Caitlyn said, voice hard.

“Oh, I can believe it,” Powder said, voice turning dark.

“Powder—" Viktor warned but was promptly ignored.

“You see, I was there too. Maybe you remember me? I was the vandal sobbing over my sister,” Powder continued with a knife-like smile.

“You were—I'm sorry. I didn’t—" Caitlyn stuttered.

“Just another enforcer, like all the rest. Can’t even breathe without one of you—”

“You broke the law! Jayce nearly killed himse—”

“My dad says you just take everything. He was right. Let’s go.”

Powder turned on her heel, still gripping Ekko’s hand, and pulled him after her before he could do anything. She slammed the door behind them. A moment later, Viktor heard a muffled argument from the street below. Viktor watched as Ekko pulled Powder to him and she clutched him as she buried her head in her chest. Caitlyn was silent, stunned. She put a hand to her eyepatch and sighed.

“I...I didn’t know. I am sorry,” she said.

“A mistake,” Viktor said, deciding to gloss over her obvious prejudice against the Undercity. There were more important things to deal with.

“But...what they did. Jayce was distraught. I thought he was going to...he nearly did. Stood there for an hour, on the edge, before he came down. Then...well, he left.”

“Where is he now?” Viktor asked.

“A small town in the mountains,” Caitlyn said replied.

“The mountains? Jayce doesn’t like the cold,” Viktor said without thinking.

“What?”

“I…I mean it must be cold there. Unpleasant,” Viktor said quickly, wondering where the thought had come from.

“Yes, he…he does complain about the winters. Still,” she said, smiling briefly, before giving Viktor and appraising look. “Who are you again?”

“A scientist, that’s all. One who is very interested in Jayce’s ideas. I…I stole his journal. After the explosion,” Viktor admitted sheepishly.

“You did?” Caitlyn said, smile growing.

“Yes. Silly, but it just seemed too important to waste. Heimerdinger’s come around now. He wants to research to continue.”

“And you are working for him?”

“Eh, more with, but it is always hard to tell,” Viktor said with a shrug.

“Well…I’ll tell you where Jayce is, but you mustn’t…you mustn’t bring Heimerdinger. He’s still upset with him. He didn’t stick up for him at the trial. I think Jayce saw it as a personal betrayal,” Caitlyn said sadly.

“He didn’t?”

“No. No one did.”

Viktor was silent for a while. He could imagine it well, the devastation, the hopelessness. He had known about the trial, been tempted to go after thumbing through Jayce Talis’s journal, but the whole thing had seemed too depressing. Now he wished he had gone. Maybe he could have spoken to him then, maybe he could have changed something.

“I...well...I think...he is not as he was. He...he misses the Academy. Academia in general for gods know what reason. He keeps up with the journals, but...I think it would be good. To speak with another scientist, one who knows the Academy. You won’t do anything to upset him?” Caitlyn asked carefully.

“Not intentionally, no,” Viktor promised.

“Do you have a paper and pen?” Caitlyn asked after a moment.

Viktor wordlessly handed her the small notebook and pencil he always kept in his pocket. Caitlyn took it and scrawled the name of a town and the words “Talis Forge” in looping cursive. Viktor didn’t recognize the town, but then again, he had never been out of the Piltover region before.

“Thank you,” Viktor said.

“You’re welcome and...and tell Jayce he owes me a letter, will you?” she replied with a smile. “And...I am sorry. For upsetting your friend.”

“I…we have all had our share of tragedy, I think.”

“I suppose so. Come see me when you get back. I’d like to hear how he’s doing. We’ve written, but I haven’t seen him in years. I miss him,” Caitlyn said sadly.

“Of course. Good evening, Caitlyn.”

Viktor left her on the balcony, staring out over the city, and made his way through the crowded ballroom and out of the gala. It was a relief to leave. He felt his shoulders relax and took a deep breath, coughing slightly. He frowned, thankful he had his treatment the next morning.

Heimerdinger was with Ekko and Powder when he reached them. Ekko still had an arm around Powder, whose eyes were red and puffy. There were streaks of makeup on her cheeks. When she saw Viktor she broke away from Ekko with a desperate look and came to him quickly, talking the whole way.

“I’m so sorry, Vik! I shouldn’t have said anything. Should I go apologize? I should, but I don’t like her and—”

“It’s no matter. She told me where Jayce Talis is,” Viktor said, holding out a hand to stop Powder.

Powder relaxed. Ekko’s face lit up and Heimerdinger let out a small cheer, hurrying over on his tiny legs.

“Splendid! Where is he?” he asked.

Viktor showed him the notepad and he let out another small gasp of excitement.

“I know that village. Absolutely lovely and not far at all! Six hours by train,” he said.

That did seem far, but not prohibitive. Viktor looked at the address again. Something about it felt significant. Hextech was important, world changing, but his feeling was not about that. It was about something deeper, like a memory from a dream he had long ago and couldn’t remember.

“There should be a train leaving tonight. If we hurry, we can—”

“I think I should go alone. The competition is coming days away and, Heimerdinger, Caitlyn hinted that he might be less than pleased to see you. After the trial,” Viktor said carefully.

“Goodness. What did I do?”

“You did not speak up for him. He was exiled.”

“Oh. I think I regret that,” Heimerdinger said quietly. “But, no matter. I’ll apologize to the boy when I see him. Viktor, you can still make the train! If we hurry—”

“I have a treatment tomorrow morning. I will go after,” Viktor said firmly. He knew how Heimerdinger was when he got like this.

“Treatment?” Powder asked.

“Grey Lung. Chronic, I’m afraid.”

Powder’s eyes went wide, and Ekko blinked at him in a slow-moving realization. Heimerdinger, however, sighed as if it were a great inconvenience.

“Can you reschedule?” he asked.

“Not if I wish to keep breathing, no,” Viktor replied archly, biting back a meaner response.

“Oh, well, I suppose it can’t be helped them. When are you done?”

“Around noon.”

“Then you will catch the afternoon train! Oh! I’ll call ahead. There is the loveliest inn there. Or at least it was lovely when last I visited what was it…fifty years ago? Seventy! No…maybe more…hm,” Heimerdinger said, muttering to himself as he walked ahead of the group, back towards Zaun.

Viktor let him go on for a while before he followed. He didn’t want to speak with him. Heimerdinger had always had a slightly cavalier attitude towards human mortality. It was not something Viktor admired about him.

“How long have you had it?” Powder asked, falling into step beside him, arm in arm with Ekko.

“Since I was a child, most likely. I think it would have killed me already, but, well, since the cities united, some great strides have been made. Mine was too advanced to be cured completely, I will not die anytime soon, if that is what you are worried about,” Viktor said gently.

“That was...what Heimerdinger said about your...he doesn’t get it, does he?” Ekko said, staring ahead at the yordle.

“No. He does not. I…I was his assistant when I was your age. It is...well, a disappointment, once I figured that out about him. But I do not think he means anything by it.”

“Still...” Ekko said, trailing off.

“It doesn’t matter. I should go home. I have to pack, after all,” Viktor said, pausing as they go closer to the bridge.

“Okay. We’ll come see you off,” Powder said.

“Good. See you tomorrow, then.”

Powder waved merrily before turning to Ekko as they continued for the bridge.

“Let’s just go home. I feel like death. Like death served cold with a side of sump rat,” she said, voice carrying into the night.

Ekko chuckled at that, but there was something serious in his eyes as he looked back at Viktor. He sighed. He wouldn’t have told them about his condition if he knew it would upset Ekko, not so close to the competition anyway. It was nothing to mourn, not yet at least. It would be a shorter life, but the doctors have given him decades where there had once only been a handful of years.

His treatment went as it always did. An hour in a chair, an IV in his arm, a mask over his nose and mouth, breathing in something that smelled sterile. His nose bled afterwards, as usual. His mind wandered the whole time, as usual, but this time, his thoughts had more direction. His upcoming trip and Jayce Talis’s journal danced through his mind. Viktor felt a sharp twinge of excitement, knowing that he might meet the man soon. It was mildly embarrassing to be honest. Like a schoolboy with a crush.

Powder, Ekko, and Heimerdinger were waiting for him at the train station when he was done. He found he was pleased to see all of them, even Heimerdinger. Powder handed him a bar of chocolate when he reached them with a grin.

“I thought you could use something to cheer you up,” she said.

“Thank you,” he replied, putting the chocolate in his bag next to his personal journals.

“Good luck,” Ekko said. He still looked odd, pensive. Viktor frowned. There was something going on, but Heimerdinger and Powder were closer to him. Let them tease it out.

“You too. I am sorry to miss the competition,” Viktor replied.

“Yeah, well, we’ll show you our big, shiny trophy when you get back,” Powder said.

“They will be in good hands. But do come back quickly. I want to continue our work,” Heimerdinger said.

“Of course, professor.”

“Give my regards to Jayce and…and I apologize for last night. I think I was a bit careless. Of course, your health comes first,” Heimerdinger said carefully, as if it were rehearsed. Ekko was giving the yordle a significant look. Viktor had a feeling he knew exactly what prompted the apology.

“Apology accepted. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a train to catch.”

Heimerdinger had reserved him a private compartment in first class. It was more luxurious than anything he’d imagined and, most excitingly of all, he’d be able to spread out on the table and get some work done. He laughed. For the first time in years, he felt genuinely excited about something. It was like waking up.

Chapter Text

The train ride was meditative.  It was easy to get lost in Jayce Talis’s journal and his own notes. Viktor’s mind was brimming with ideas. If Hextech were viable, if the four of them (plus hopefully Jayce Talis) could make it inert, stable, it could be a completely self-sustaining energy source, like Ekko’s vision. The Undercity was much improved from his childhood, but he knew there was still a lot to do. His old neighborhood still had constant blackouts. He could start by fixing that. The rest could follow.

The train stopped at an old station set in quite frankly the most picturesque town Viktor had ever seen. The buildings were mostly half-timbered and the mountainside that rose above it was dotted with white and yellow wildflowers. Birds wheeled above him. A white butterfly settled on his suitcase briefly before taking off again. Viktor watched it for a moment, smiling. Its wings were nearly translucent in the light.

Heimerdinger had given him directions to the inn, but they were unnecessary. The town was endearing small. The innkeeper, a tall woman with a kind face, greeted him with a smile and changed his room to one on the first floor without batting an eye when it became clear Heimerdinger had failed to mention his crutch.

“Honestly, your employer should have mentioned it,” she muttered as she handed Viktor the keys.

“These things slip his mind,” Viktor replied politely, defending Heimerdinger reflexively. “But, if I may, I have a question.”

“Of course. We don’t get many tourists. I’m always happy to show off our town,” the woman said, swelling with pride.

“Yes, it is quite lovely, but...do you know the Talis Forge?”

The woman frowned a moment and then nodded, giving Viktor a confused look. He decided not to take that as a bad sign. The journal felt like it might burn a hole in his bag.

“Yes. It’s a stone building on the south edge of town, you can’t miss it. What do you want with it?” she asked.

“A friend recommended it, the owner, Jayce Talis, yes?” Viktor asked.

“Yes. Decent enough man, bit of a loner,” the innkeeper said, almost dismissive.

“Hm, yes, well we have some...fiddly bits to make for a prototype. We need an expert.”

The lie came easily. He’d thought of it on the train. It was a relief Jayce Talis had a job he knew something about. He didn’t know what excuse he would have made if he’d been a baker or a shepherd or anything like that.

“Well, he is talented.”

“Excellent. I shall be on my way. Thank you for your—"

“If you wait a moment, I can call my husband to take you in our cart. He won’t—” the innkeeper started.

“That won’t be necessary. Thank you,” Viktor said, trying not to be annoyed. The town was small. He could manage it. The exchange still left a sour taste in his mouth.

The forge was unmistakable. It was a large stone building, with smoke coming from the chimney, and the sound of metal being worked within. He took a deep breath. Something about it was familiar. Jayce must be happy there, he thought and then wondered where that idea came from. He didn’t know the man, not really.

He pushed open the door. A small bell rang, heralding his entrance, and the one person in the forge, a tall man stripped to his waist with dark hair and a beard turned around. He wore a polite smile and was terribly handsome. Viktor knew him immediately. Jayce Talis. He had to be. Viktor felt he would know him anywhere, another strange thought he quickly dismissed.

“Hello. How can I help you?” he said.

“Jayce Talis?” Viktor asked, confirmation he didn’t need.

“Yes. I...have we met?” Jayce Talis said, moving towards him, pulling a shirt over his head.

“Eh, no, not…not that I recall,” Viktor said. “I’m Viktor.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said, holding out a hand.

Viktor took it and got the most peculiar feeling. A buzz of electricity, a light headedness, something more serious trying to break through. He froze for a moment, unable to shake the strangeness of it.

Then it was gone. Jayce was still holding his hand, hand reaching to support him with a wrinkled of concern in his brow. The gesture and expression were so familiar that Viktor nearly cried. None it made sense.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jayce was asking, voice sounding far away as the ringing in Viktor’s ears died.

“You didn’t feel that?” Viktor responded, taking his hand back and shaking the last of the tingling feeling away.

“What? Are you—your eyes.”

“My eyes?” Viktor parroted.

“Yeah. They’re normal now, but for a second, they weren’t golden, they were…” Jayce trailed off with an awkward laugh. “Sorry. What a weird thing to…are you okay? Do you need to sit down? I can get you some water. You—”

“Yes. I’m…a head rush. That’s all. Sitting is, eh, a good idea,” Viktor said. His head was still spinning.

Jayce led him to a chair, not taking his hand off his back. It felt warm, heavy, right. Viktor wondered if it would be strange to kiss him. Then he realized that it was not a question. It would be strange to kiss him. He had known the man for five minutes. The impulse itself was odd, new. He had never wanted to kiss anyone so quickly before. He tried not to jump when Jayce pressed a cool glass of water into his hand, face still twisted in concern.

“Sorry, I don’t have any sweetmilk to offer you,” Jayce said with a shrug.

“I forgive you, but how did you know I like it? Most people find it, eh, gross.”

Jayce started to answer, then stopped, then shrugged. Viktor drank the cool, sweet water and tried not to look at him while Jayce seemed unable to look anyplace but at him. It was awkward now. He had made it awkward. Or maybe they both had. This was not the best start to his plan of convincing Jayce to break every law in Piltover and come back to continue his illegal research.

“I’m sorry. Are you sure we haven’t met? You look so familiar,” Jayce said again, as he half-reached for him, like he wanted to put a hand on his shoulder but stopped.

“I…I do not think so, though you may have seen me before. I was Heimerdinger’s assistant. At the Academy,” Viktor said.

Jayce’s face went to shock to sadness to something cloudy. He pushed back in his chair. Viktor wished he hadn’t. He really should go someplace else, clear his head, come back tomorrow. Maybe it was just tiredness from the journey. Maybe that could explain anything and the fact that Jayce grew up in Piltover could explain the sweetmilk and he could look at him without wanting to run a hand down his jawline.

“Oh,” Jayce said, a disappointed lilt to his voice. “Why are you here?”

“I found your research. Hextech,” Viktor said, ripping off the proverbial band aid.

Jayce flinched at the name, but Viktor swore he could see a spark in his eye. Jayce’s hand went reflexively to the leather cuff on his wrist. Viktor recognized it. He could almost feel the weight of it in his own hand, the smooth, worn leather, the slight weight of the stone. That could be his imagination. That he could explain.  

“There is promise in it. I think—” Viktor continued after Jayce had been silent for a good, long while.

“It killed someone,” Jayce said softly, each word was shameful.

“I know. I…I was there. After they took you,” Viktor said carefully.

He was certain if he had gotten there ten minutes early, they would have met. He imagined for a moment how different that would be, if he’d come with Jayce to the little mountain town, if he’d found a way to save him from exile. A fantasy, nothing more.

“I have your journal and saved some of your equipment. Heimerdinger—” Viktor continued.

“Heimerdinger?” Jayce said incredulously, like the name was a curse.

“Yes. Him. He is…leading a renewed effort into your research. Him, his newest protege—”

Jayce scoffed. Viktor flashed a small smile. They both knew exactly how that went, being former proteges of Heimerdinger themselves.

“And…and the sister of the girl who died. And me, I suppose. We’re working together, trying to make it a reality,” Viktor said.

“Why?” Jayce asked.

Because Heimerdinger said he came from a different dimension. Because Ekko and Powder had young, eager minds and it was a good puzzle. Because Viktor was so bored with his life, and he had read Jayce’s journal until the pages were soft. Because there was promise. Because it would change the world and Viktor had to do something before he died.

“It is a bit of a long story. I do not understand it all myself, but…but I have your journal,” Viktor said, withdrawing it from his bag. “I made some…addendums to your original notes. I hope you do not mind.”

Jayce took the journal like it was some holy thing and began flipping through it. It wasn’t like when Heimerdinger and Ekko were looking through it. It felt right in his hands. Viktor watched his face. There was wonder there and a painful sadness. He wished to kiss it all away.

“Wait. What do you mean increase the energy output?” Jayce said, stopping at a page halfway through the journal.

“It will stabilize better,” Viktor said with a shrug.

“How do you—what if it destabilizes instead? The resulting explosion—”

“Would be disastrous, but if the frequency is high enough, it cannot help but stabilize itself. You just really have to—”

“Crank it?” Jayce said, a boyish grin splitting his face.

“Yes. Crank it,” Viktor said, smiling back. The words felt familiar in his mouth. For a moment, everything felt exactly as it should.

They talked about Hextech for hours. Jayce seemed unable to help himself. He was what Viktor had hoped he would be. Brilliant, creative, open, boyishly enthusiastic and naïve in a charming sort of way. In a more surprising twist, he seemed interested in everything Viktor had to say. He wondered if they would have talked all night if a customer hadn’t come in with an iron pot that needed repair. It was depressing, watching the smartest man he’d ever met take a sad, rusted thing and promise to fix it, swearing it wasn’t too complicated. When the old man left, it felt as if some of the magic had gone out of the room too.

“Look,” Jayce started, not looking at him, only at the pot. “I…this has been fun. Exhilarating, actually. But I can’t. Hextech was abandoned for a reason. Whatever Heimerdinger is trying to do, he can do without me.”

“Hm, well, that is a disappointment, yes, but I enjoyed our talk,” Viktor said carefully, another plan forming.

“Yeah, I…I did too,” Jayce said wistfully. “There’s no one to talk to here. Not like…like you, at least. I mean…an Academic. Another scientist.”

“Heimerdinger has already paid for my room for the whole week. I could use a vacation and this place is, eh, quite charming. Perhaps I can come back tomorrow?” Viktor said.

He wanted to scream at him, shake him until he understood what he was turning his back on. He never wanted to go for a day without speaking to Jayce again. Maybe he had developed a boyish crush on Jayce from the journal alone and meeting him had only made it real.

“Yeah, um, sure. I…I have some work, but…it’s slow right now. We can…talk,” Jayce said.

“I look forward to tomorrow, then,” Viktor said, carefully getting to his feet and turning towards the door.

“Viktor?” Jayce called when his hand was on the knob.

“Yes?” Viktor said, turning, afraid he had changed his mind.

“You’re staying at the inn?”

“Where else?”

“Want to have dinner? I can meet you there.”

“Yes,” Viktor replied quickly, feeling a blush creep to his cheeks.

Jayce grinned and Viktor left with it burned on the inside of his eyelids. It was not a date. It was dinner with a man he had just met, a like mind starved for mental stimulation. Still. He felt like his insides had been cracked open and remade. It was ridiculous. He had never thought of another person in that way, though the boy he had dated just before he left the Undercity had come close. He had never craved romance or sex like so many others seemed too. Jayce was different, though. He’d felt it when their hands touched.

Dinner was pleasant. The food at the inn was surprisingly good and Jayce continued to be good company. They didn’t talk about Hextech. They talked about the Academy and Heimerdinger and what Viktor thought of the newest students and Ekko and Powder and the newest research coming out of Ionia about crystals. Jayce insisted they ordered dessert. He said he knew Viktor had a sweet tooth. Viktor tried not to question how. He thought they might have talked all night, but Jayce excused himself as the dining room of the inn began to clear out with a yawn.

“Sorry. Early morning tomorrow,” he said, stretching.

“Of course. I don’t mean to keep you,” Viktor said.

“It’s fine. I…I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yes, of course. When shall I come by?”

“The forge opens at eight. Any time after then is fine.”

Viktor said goodnight and Jayce left. The innkeeper came to clear their dishes with a friendly smile.

“That’s the most I’ve ever seen him talk!” she said.

“Really? He seems friendly,” Viktor said.

“He is, but keeps to himself, like I said. It’s nice to see him with a friend.”

There was something to how she said the word “friend” that made Viktor want to crawl inside his sweater. His affection must have been obvious. He felt like a teenager, even more so when the innkeeper told him that Jayce had settled their bill before he left with what came very close to a wink.

He needed to get ahold of himself. He barely knew this Jayce. They did connect, yes, but that didn’t mean anything. He should stop thinking of it, compartmentalize so he could focus on what he had come there to do.

  A figure in a white, hooded robe flitted through his dreams. It felt strange, out of place, familiar.

When Viktor woke, he could barely remember any of it. Early morning sunlight was pouring in through the crack in the curtains. The room was already warm, promising a lazy, hot day. He wondered how Jayce could stand it at the forge even as he dressed, wincing as he put on his braces, and went downstairs for coffee.

Breakfast was an impatient thing and he took up the innkeeper’s offer to have her husband drive him to Jayce’s forge. When he arrived at 8:15, Jayce was there to greet him with a smile and a cup of coffee. It was sweet, how he liked it.

“Thank you,” Viktor said, sitting on the chair Jayce offered him, a pillow discreetly added.

“Of course. How is it?” Jayce asked, taking a sip of his own.

“Good. Impressive, since you drink yours black and bitter.”

Jayce laughed. Viktor told himself he knew that because he could smell Jayce’s coffee, see the dark liquid in the yellow mug. Yellow, like the flowers on the hillside. Yellow, like the sun. Viktor wanted to stare at him. He drank his coffee instead.

The second day went much as the first. They talked. Viktor didn’t mention Hextech this time. Jayce did, ten minutes after they finished their coffee. He’d gone over more of Viktor’s notes and had more questions and then Viktor had questions and then he was scribbling new equations on sheets of scrap paper while Jayce diagramed a new housing for the crystal.

The forge was hot. Viktor felt sweat pooling beneath his brace and the hair the fell into his eyes was damp. He caught Jayce staring twice.

When it was lunchtime, Jayce closed the forge and asked Viktor if he wanted to eat with him. He followed Jayce to the small, one room house behind the forge. It was cooler there, in the shade of the house, a relief.

“Sorry it’s so hot today,” Jayce said, as if he had a say in it, while he made sandwiches for the pair of them.

“Eh, it’s not so bad,” Viktor shrugged.

“Are you sure? You…you just looked a little uncomfortable. Back at the forge. If you need take the afternoon off—”

“No, no. It is not so bad, only my brace does not do well in the heat, and I do not do well without it,” Viktor shrugged.

Jayce glanced at him, chewing on a question. Viktor raised an eyebrow, inviting it. At some point over the past few hours, they had begun communicating silently. It was not helping the compartmentalizing Viktor was trying very hard to do.

“Your brace, is it…comfortable?” Jayce finally asked.

“No, but it is the make that best suits me,” Viktor replied.

“You ever try to design your own?”

“Yes, but no one will do it. Too fiddly they say,” Viktor said with a scowl.

“Can I see?”

Viktor was taken aback. No one had asked to see it before. It had always been him, shoving his design in the face of anyone he thought might be able to do it. He nodded slowly. His heart leapt. A butterfly alighted on the windowsill, flapping its wings slowly.

“I have it in one of my journals, back at the inn. Dinner again tonight?” Viktor asked.

“Yeah, of course. I…I’m kind of excited. I want to see what you came up with.”

Viktor gave him a smile and took a bite of the sandwich. It was going well. Hextech aside, he wanted to talk with Jayce about science forever. A fantasy formed of the two of them living in the small town, inventing things in a little lab, but it was impossible. His life was in Piltover, not to mention the fact that he needed monthly treatments to keep his lungs from deteriorating until he drowned in his own blood. Still, it was a nice thought.

Their second dinner was just as pleasant as their first. He showed Jayce his designs. Jayce seemed certain he could do it, coming up with a supply list and a few recommended improvements to the structure of the brace. Most of them were good, so Viktor allowed them. He promised to come the next morning so Jayce could measure him and begin work.

They talked about Hextech after that. Jayce with a near fever, as if it was something he’d kept bottled inside, waiting to explode. Viktor with reverence. He told him more about Powder and Ekko. He hoped Jayce would like them. He hoped Jayce would come with him. He felt like he had known him forever now, a strange thought.

The innkeeper was half-smirking when she bid goodnight to Viktor. He ignored her. It was a small town. People would gossip. It was like the Academy in that way. He had not been the subject of such scrutiny since he started, and people whispered that he slept his way in or that his father was a powerful chembaron holding Heimerdinger’s beloved poro hostage.

He dreamed about the hooded white figure again. It felt closer this time, breathing down his neck. It felt important, worrisome.

When he woke, his skin felt a little clammy. It was warm out still. He decided that was all and pushed it from his mind, letting Jayce and Hextech and the brace take it’s place.

Viktor told Jayce about the hooded figure in his dream. He laughed, saying it was a silly thing to Fret about. He was sitting in front of him, bare chested as Jayce measured him. His hands left trails of fire in their wake. Jayce did not quite look at him. There was a redness to his cheeks, but that could be blamed on the heat. Viktor intended on doing so if Jayce brought it up. When they were done, it was a relief to put his old brace and shirt back on.

“How long do you think it will take?” Viktor asked.

“A few days. Well, a few days until I have something for you to try. I…you’re welcome to stay, but I have to work,” Jayce said.

“I have work to do to. Perhaps we can do it together, though I doubt mine is as interesting. Term papers from first year biology students,” Viktor said with an eyeroll.

“Oh yeah! I remember that class. It was so boring, so simple—”

“Yes! Hardly scratches the surface or gets into anything of interest.”

“And there are still kids who fail it.”

“Just so.”

“Well, read me the highlights, if you come across anything truly…mind numbing,” Jayce said with a grin.

Viktor laughed. An hour later, he was settled with the paper and Jayce was doubled over, laughing at some rich Piltie’s extremely fantastical understanding of inherited traits. It was good, peaceful. They worked well next to each other, in comfortable silence or with gently chatter.

They had dinner again that night. Jayce paid. He told Viktor about his life in the village, about his mother who lived nearby but not close enough to smother, about his father who died young, about the mage who had gifted him the crystal he wore in the cuff on his wrist. There was a rune etched into it. Viktor didn’t recognize it.

Viktor told Jayce about his life in Zaun, about his parents’ deaths, about his early days at the Academy, about working for Heimerdinger and how he had loved it and how it had become frustrating. Jayce could sympathize. He had been a favorite of Heimerdinger. A heavy crown to wear.

“I know,” Viktor said when Jayce told him. “I was working for him then. He spoke of you fondly.”

“We could have met earlier,” Jayce said quietly, almost regretful.

“Yes, I suppose we could have.”

They had dinner again that night. Viktor paid. Jayce lingered as they said goodbye before squeezing his arm affectionately in parting. Viktor had to keep himself from shuddering at the contact. The compartmentalizing was failing. Love might choke him.

The hooded figure still haunted his dreams. Illogical. Dreams were nothing but fragments the mind couldn’t digest during the day. It was unsettling. Viktor blamed the altitude, the heat, the swirling feeling he got whenever he saw Jayce.

When Viktor woke up, he went to see Jayce. They worked in companionable silence. Jayce had the leather part figured out and was smelting the metal. Viktor had finished grading and was working on a water purification system, something without Hextech. Maybe Jayce would build that too and he would have an excuse to come back.

Jayce made dinner for him that night. The inn’s food was better. Viktor preferred Jayce’s cooking. When he left, Jayce paused a moment before going for a hug. It surprised Viktor. He nearly flinched back, before returning it. Jayce relaxed in his grip before pulling away. He smelt of the forge, soap, and sweat. The smell made Viktor feel a little light-headed.

That night, the hooded figure was standing in front of him. It pulled his hood back. Viktor’s own face stared back at him. Older and indescribably sad. They were standing on a ruined building. Jayce was in front of them, turned to stone, face twisted in fear.

Viktor woke in a cold sweat. He felt like he might throw up. Then he did. He didn’t see Jayce that day. Sent a letter saying he was sick. Spent all day trying to puzzle out what the dream meant. Ate dinner in his room. Missed Jayce like a limb.

“You should not be here,” he, the him in a white robe said.

“What does that mean?” he, the actual him, said.

“I suppose I have something to ponder. Don’t return for a few nights.”

“I am not trying to come here,” Viktor said. His body was made of starlight. His hair was white.

“You are smart. You will figure it out.”

Viktor woke. That explained very little. His older self was a figment, a stress dream. The vision of Jayce from the night before was a nightmare. That was it. It felt like he was lying to himself.

He went to Jayce, arriving a little before 8:00. Jayce was already there. When he saw him, something in his heart released. Jayce grinned, half-running to meet him on the path, startling little white butterflies in his wake.

“Viktor! You’re feeling better?” Jayce asked.

“Yes, much. Just a…bug, I think,” Viktor replied.

“Good,” Jayce said, putting his hand on Viktor’s shoulder, thumb rubbing it slightly. An intimate gesture. “The prototype of the brace is almost done.”

“Really? That was quick,” Viktor said, grinning and following Jayce into the forge.

“Yeah, well, I got inspired. Come see.”

Even incomplete, the brace looked like Viktor had always imagined. A feeling swelled in his heart. It was like love, but more complicated. He reached out to touch it. It was cool, smooth. He could already tell it was lighter, less bulky than the one he had been wearing for four years now. His shoulders sagged, anticipating the relief it would bring.

“It is better than I had thought. More elegant,” Viktor said.

“Glad you like it. It should be done by the end of the day. I’ll, um, after dinner. I’ll cook. You can try it on then. A celebration,” Jayce stumbled out.

“Yes, good,” Viktor said, pulling his hand back, focusing on Jayce. “Now. I was reading the latest theories on time manipulation, which is impossible, but was wondering if you had any thoughts?”

“Impossible is a strong word, V,” Jayce said, grinning.

Viktor warmed at the nickname, even as Jayce continued as if he had not said anything out of the ordinary at all. They talked, argued, went in circles around Hextech and time manipulation and paradoxes. Jayce worked on the brace. Viktor wrote down all their new ideas about Hextech. He would have much to show Heimerdinger when he came back. He hoped Jayce would come with him. Now it seemed impossible to live without him. A slippery slope.

Jayce was right. The first version of the brace was finished that evening. Jayce carried it like a precious thing to his house and made Viktor wait while he cooked for them. There was a heavy anticipation in the air Viktor couldn’t blame entirely on excitement over his new brace. They ate quickly. Jayce said he’d wash up later. They had more important things to do.

Viktor stripped off his shirt and his old brace. Jayce didn’t watch, which felt purposeful, which made it feel like he had been staring at him. Then Viktor picked up the new brace. It was lighter. Beautiful. It reminded him of Jayce and himself, a perfect meeting of their minds.

“Do you want any help with it?” Jayce asked, voice strangely soft.

Viktor did not need help. He had designed it. He had been wearing his other brace for years and had always prided himself on being self-sufficient.

“Yes,” Viktor said, the word coming out strangely breathless.

Jayce’s hands brushed his skin as he helped him with the brace. It felt purposeful this time whereas before, it had been accidental or utilitarian. They had known each other for less than a week. Viktor had never wanted to kiss anyone more in all his life.

When he was done, Viktor stood. He laughed aloud. The brace was lighter, more flexible. It relieved the pressure on his shoulders and his spine felt more secure, like he wouldn’t shatter if he moved wrong. All at once, several knots in his back released.

“Well?” Jayce asked.

“It’s perfect! Jayce, you are—”

Viktor whirled around to thank him. Jayce was right there. He caught him on instinct. Viktor’s hands were gripping his arms. It was an embrace of sorts. They were close together now. They were staring at each other.

“I cannot thank you enough,” Viktor said quietly.

“It’s payback. For bringing me my journal,” Jayce said, not looking at Viktor’s eyes. Looking at his lips.

“Silly,” Viktor said softly. He was already leaning in.

The kiss was electric. It felt like he’d been waiting for it forever and it felt familiar, as if the shape of Jayce’s soft lips were already imprinted on the inside of his skull. As he moved his hands higher, to rest on Jayce’s shoulders, Jayce let out a sudden gasp and the world broke apart.

A thousand meetings. A thousand Jayces. A thousand Viktors. His head was spinning. They were floating. The world was blue. They were working. Side-by-side. Jayce laughing. Jayce arguing. Jayce bringing him coffee. Him frowning. Him talking a mile a minute at a chalkboard while Jayce took notes. Him watching Jayce from across the room at a gala, champagne in hand. Them. Together. In every single one.

Viktor pulled back. Jayce was looking at him with wide eyes, panting slightly. They hadn’t let go of each other. Everything feel into place. The strange feeling. The intimacy. The little things they just seemed to know about each other. Heimerdinger was right. Other universes, other timelines, all of it.

“Jayce, I—” Viktor started.

“Me too,” Jayce said.

“What—”

Jayce kissed him again. There was too much to process. Too many memories, too many realizations that could rewrite reality as they knew it. All of it felt secondary as Viktor leaned into Jayce’s embrace and kissed him back as hard as he could.

Chapter Text

Viktor woke in Jayce’s bed.  Jayce was next to him, sleeping on his stomach, head cushioned by Viktor’s arm with his own arm thrown around his waist. Viktor smiled. The previous night was a blur. Jayce’s hands and mouth and tongue. The taste and feel of him, all over him, inside of him. Their mingled moans and gasps and cries. Viktor touched every inch of his skin, cataloged it, dedicated it to memory because he had missed him. He shouldn’t have missed him. They hadn’t known each other in this world, not until very recently, but there it was. A retroactive ache. 

They had not talked about the revelation that followed their first kiss. They should. They would, but later. The memories were less strong now, a flash of color and feeling with a few specifics, like remembering a dream. A few images burned through, clear as day. Mostly Jayce. Nothing remarkable. Everyday things like a small frown or a smudge of black grease across his forehead or his face when he spotted Viktor in a crowd. 

The sun was already illuminating the small house, it must be late, but that hardly seemed to matter. Another hot day. Jayce could close the forge. They could talk. They could fall back into bed. They could figure out what to do next because he really should write Heimerdinger. Ask for more time. Explain that he understood now. Not tell him anything of what he had seen. He shifted to look at Jayce, peaceful in his sleep. Love burst within him. They’d managed to say it in the throes of passion last night. It held true for him at least that morning. Whatever happened next, they’d to do it together.  

Jayce stirred, groaned, and opened one hazel eye. His face relaxed into a soft smile when he saw Viktor, so close, and he leaned forward to kiss him, quick and gentle. 

“Hey,” he said.

“Good morning,” Viktor replied. “We slept late.”

“Shit. I should get up. Open the forge,” Jayce said, not moving.

“Close it today. We have…things to discuss.”

“I guess we do,” Jayce said with a rueful laugh. “I still need to get up. Put up a closed sign.”

“Hm, a little longer,” Viktor said, leaning in to kiss him properly this time.

They kissed slowly and then less slowly for a few minutes until Jayce pulled back before the morning got derailed. He sighed heavily and stood, pausing for a moment to look at Viktor. It was enough to make him blush, even after all they had done the night before.

“I’ll be right back. We should…eat. Then talk,” Jayce said.

“Very well. I’ll…I’ll be right here, then,” Viktor said.

Jayce bent to kiss him again, pulled on a pair of pants, not bothering with a shirt and left. Viktor lazed a moment longer before stretching carefully and maneuvering himself to a standing position. His crutch was leaning against the nightstand. He didn’t remember doing that. It must have been Jayce. Something warm bloomed in him. There was a familiarity to the gesture.

By the time Jayce returned, Viktor had dressed. The gravity of the situation had finally started to sink in. Heimerdinger was right. He was from a different timeline because different timelines, different universes must exist. What was more, he and Jayce had managed to find each other again and again, a strange idea. Viktor had always been a practical man. Science over faith and religion, facts over fantasy. What he and Jayce were was complicated and not something he was willing to name yet.

“You’re thinking too hard. You get this…line between your eyebrows when you do,” Jayce said from the icebox, pulling out eggs and cheese.

“Perhaps. I was thinking about…our situation. Last night—”

“I don’t regret—” Jayce said quickly, failing to hide the flash of desperation that crossed his face.

“No, this isn’t that kind of talk,” Viktor said, and Jayce relaxed. “When we kissed, what we saw, it has implications I think I am only just starting to grasp.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jayce sighed, turning to face him fully. “I…ever since we met, I just felt like I knew you. All this little stuff would pop into my mind. I didn’t…it should have been upsetting or concerning, but it was you. I don’t know how to explain it, except…it was you.”

“I understand,” Viktor said quietly. “I feel the same way.”

“So. What does it mean, then? Are we…cosmically bound? Is this a pocket universe or a dream or a simulation? I…I hope not. It feels real, but—”

“Now you are thinking too hard. You grab your wrist, fiddle with your cuff,” Viktor said, grinning. Jayce let go of his cuff, crossed his arms, and gave Viktor a fond look.

“Gods, I missed you,” he said.

“I missed you too,” Viktor replied, smiling as if he couldn’t help it.

Breakfast was a quick affair. They were supposed to talk when they were done. They ended up back in bed. Then in a shower together. Then Viktor fell asleep, and Jayce made them lunch and then it was afternoon. It was a good day. Viktor hadn’t thought he could have that kind of good day. It was not so much that he had never had a lover before, but that he hadn’t had anyone so willing to stay with him since his parents had died. Jayce didn’t seem to grow tired of him. That was new. It was exhilarating.

“We do need to talk, though,” Jayce said, voice rumbling through his chest.

They were in bed again, just lying together, Jayce holding him against his chest. It felt like they were making up for lost time. In all the timelines they’d gotten a glimpse of, it seemed that they met when Jayce’s apartment exploded, years ago now. It was hard not to mourn for those years.

“I know. I am to go back in…tomorrow. Or the day after, I think,” Viktor said quietly.

“Stay. Live here, with me,” Jayce said without hesitating.

“I can’t.”

“You said yourself, there isn’t much for you there.”

“I am…sick, Jayce,” Viktor said carefully, sitting up to look at him.

A million timelines of worry crossed Jayce’s face. Viktor cupped his cheek. It was not so bad. He would live for decades yet. Perhaps not to see seventy, but there was still time.

“Grey-lung. Not curable, but treatable. The hospital where I receive treatment is in Piltover. Only once a month, but…I will not do well without it.”

“How long till you need to go back?”

“Three weeks.”

“Then stay three weeks,” Jayce said, pulling him into a kiss.

It would have been easy to stay like that, to let things go as they had all day, to end up naked and flushed in Jayce’s embrace, but they needed to focus. Viktor let the kiss linger but broke it with a shake of his head.

“There is more. Heimerdinger needs my help, but what is more, his proteges do. He wants to recreate Hextech. I think now it is something to do with all the timelines, but…I need to ask him. They would do it without me, I think, but I cannot say how that would go,” Viktor said.

“And that’s why you came to me,” Jayce said.

“That is, yes. I am glad I did. And…and you can come with me. We can create together, Jayce. Can you think of anything better?”

Jaye was quiet. He leaned his head against his pillow and stared at the ceiling, arm still looped loosely around Viktor’s waist. He waited. Jayce was thinking. He could see it in his face. Familiar expressions and gestures he’d seen over a million lifetimes still unfamiliar in this one. Sometimes it was disorienting. Now, it was lovely. He wondered what had happened to all the other versions of them. He hoped they were happy.

“I’ll go with you,” Jayce said quietly. “I don’t…Hextech is…only what Heimerdinger wants. Nothing on a larger scale. If it…if we die, at least we’ll do it together, right?”

“That does not sound so bad,” Viktor said, smiling.

“And after…we’ll figure out after.”

“And the timelines, the other versions of us? What of that?” Viktor asked.

That was the real question. Them staying together was a logistical issue really. Everything else was more existential.

“I don’t know,” Jayce said with a small laugh. “I think we need more than my forge and a bunch of old research notes and outdated textbooks to figure it out. The library here is…not great.”

“Then we will figure that out when get to Piltover.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Jayce said with a faraway look in his eye. Another thing to figure out later.

“It is settled, then. I will need to pack, and you will need to get a train ticket, though perhaps Heimerdinger can—”

“Can we wait for another week? You…your leg brace. I can make you a better one. And you can stay here,” Jayce said.

There was a desperation in his voice. Viktor laid his head on his chest, thinking. Another week would be good, doable. Heimerdinger, Powder, and Ekko couldn’t get into too much trouble without him. He had grown to like the little town, but maybe that was just Jayce.

“Yes. That would be good. I will have to write to Heimerdinger and gather my things from the inn,” Viktor said.

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Viktor said, leaning into Jayce’s hand stroking his hair.

His letter was short and to the point. He told Heimerdinger that he was staying another week, would not need to extend his stay at the inn, and that Jayce would be accompanying him back to Piltover. He checked out of the inn. Jayce came with him and carried his bags to his forge. The innkeeper watched them without a word but with many significant looks. There would be gossip, no doubt. Viktor didn’t really care. He doubted Jayce did either.

Heimerdinger’s reply was short (for him). Ekko and Powder won the Distinguished Innovator’s Competition. They could do without him for a week, not to worry, and please do pass his apologies on to Jayce. There were also two train tickets for another private compartment. Viktor put them in a safe place. They seemed heavy for such little pieces of paper.

Viktor read the letter aloud. Jayce scowled as he worked and then went into a very long diatribe about Heimerdinger and why he should retire. Viktor let him. He agreed with most of it. By then, his back brace was done. Jayce said it had been easy, like he had done it before. Viktor smiled. All the other Viktors were lucky, then. The leg brace was coming along nicely too. It would be done well before they had to leave, which meant they had time to spare.

Their free time was taken up by two things: each other and Hextech. Sometimes both. Viktor theorized in Jayce’s lap while he kissed his neck. Jayce worked out a new equation while Viktor stroked his hair in bed, a love bit vivid on his neck. Both of them talked about it between kisses. It was electric. Jayce was adamant that most of their discoveries remain. Viktor was positive he could convince him otherwise, given some more time. There was so much good they could do.

That week was the happiest of Viktor’s life. As their return journey loomed, he began to dread it. Jayce would stay with him, in his apartment, of course, but it would be different in Piltover. It wouldn’t be just them.

“There’s one thing we have to do before we go,” Jayce said, three days before they left, as Viktor tested the new leg brace.

“Hm?” Viktor replied. “It fits, by the way. No adjustments needed.”

“Great! And it feels okay?”

“Yes, better, even. It doesn’t dig into my thigh like my other one did. And what do we need to do?”

“See my mom,” Jayce said sheepishly.

“Oh. Ximenia. Yes, of course,” Viktor said.

“I didn’t tell you her name.”

“Add it to the list.”

They had started keeping a list of things that the other knew without being told. It was long now and covered everything from the fact that Jayce hated strawberries to Viktor’s preference for cats. Neither of

them was sure if the data was important, but writing it down seemed to mean something.

“And thank you, Jayce. The brace really is quite good,” Viktor said quietly, walking around the small house again. He still needed his crutch, though. A part of him had hoped he wouldn’t.

“It wasn’t…I wanted to do it. For you,” Jayce said, coming to wrap his arms around him.

“You won’t get tired of it? Fixing broken things?” Viktor said quietly.

“You aren’t broken, V,” Jayce said softly, seriously. “You’re beautiful.”

He kissed his cheek. Viktor leaned into him, letting himself be held, letting the weight be taken off him for once.

They went to visit Ximena the day before they were due to leave. She lived in the next town over, a short train ride away. Jayce seemed nervous, fidgeting with his cuff and unable to sit still. Viktor held his hand once they reached their seats. It seemed to settle him somewhat.

“I…haven’t told my mom. Any of it,” Jayce said as the train approached the station.

“Ah. I see,” Viktor replied, waiting.

“I will, I just…it’s a lot. I don’t know if she’ll understand. Not you. That…she’s been bugging me about finding someone for years. But everything else. Piltover. Hextech.”

“It will be all right, Jayce.”

Jayce smiled at him. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. Then the train stopped, and they got off. It was another picturesque town, a bit bigger than Jayce’s, more bustling. Viktor could see why Jayce preferred his. There was a quiet peacefulness to it so rare in either Piltover or Zaun.

Ximena met them at the train station. Viktor recognized her immediately. She looked as she always had, but perhaps her clothes were not as fine. He would tell Jayce later, add it to their list. She waved excitedly when she saw her son, coming quickly to kiss him on his cheek and hug him tight. Jayce relaxed in her arms. They were close. That was not something Viktor had remembered from before. It was obvious in how he spoke about her. When their greeting was done, she pulled back and noticed Viktor, a smile crossing her face.

“Jayce, who is this?” she asked politely, pointedly.

“Mom, this is Viktor. He’s my…partner.”

The word meant something more. It sent a swell of warmth in Viktor’s chest, quickly overshadowed by Ximena’s exclamation of joy. She reached out, taking Viktor’s hand in her own and shaking it warmly.

“Jayce! You didn’t tell me you had a…it is so nice to meet you, Viktor. I want to hear everything about you. Come. We’ll have tea and then Jayce, I have a few things I need help with, so Viktor we will get to talk. You will stay for lunch and dinner, right? Should I get the guest room ready. Jayce—”

“Mom,” Jayce said laughing. “We need to go home eventually, but yeah. We’ll stay for dinner.”

Jayce took his mother’s arm, and she took Viktor’s. It was surprising but pleasant. If he could find a way to get his treatment all the way out there, he would move in a heartbeat. Piltover and Zaun had raised him, he would always love them, but maybe it was time for a change of scene.

Ximena doted on both of them, eager to learn about Viktor, hiding her surprise well when he said he was from the Undercity, sparking with excitement when she realized Jayce had found another scientist. He was cagey when she asked what had brought him there, but Jayce filled in, saying it was his research, that he taught biology and was on sabbatical. All of that was true, if the truth skirted around the thornier subjects. Those stayed happily buried until dinner.

They were finishing dessert, a sweet, milky cake in honor of Viktor. It was delicious. He already had accepted leftovers, bundled away in a small container.

“Well, it is getting later. You’ll have to go soon if you want to make the last train, unless—”

“Mom, I told you. We can’t. It’s…it’s a big day tomorrow,” Jayce said.

Viktor glanced at him. There was an edge to his voice.

“Big day, dear?” his mother asked innocently.

“Yeah. We’re…we’re going back to Piltover.”

The words cast an immediate pall over the table. Ximena’s mouth went thin, and she stared hard at her son. Not quite anger, but not just worry.

“Piltover? You were exiled. You’re…you know what happened,” she said softly, glancing at Viktor.

“He knows. No secrets, but…but he’s why I’m going back,” Jayce said, setting his hand on top of Viktor’s on the table.

Ximena looked at their hands, then at Jayce, then at Viktor, then back at their hands. She sighed and put a hand to her forehead. So like Jayce, Viktor had to fight a smile. It was not the time.

“You are not thinking things through. I remember when I first met your father, I thought anything was—”

“It’s not…mom, I know what I’m doing. I’m thirty-two, for gods’—”

“Thirty-two is not so old, Jayce Talis. Do you know what it was like watching you during your trial? There was nothing I could do. If you go back, there’s not telling—”

“I’m not going to do anything stupid!”

“Then what are you going to do?”

“Hex—”

“Heimerdinger invited him,” Viktor said, cutting Jayce off.

Ximena looked at him, blinking, as if she had forgotten him for a moment. Viktor shrunk back. This was his fault. Jayce squeezed his hand as if he could read his mind.

“Heimerdinger? After all he did?” Ximena said.

“Yes. He needs…help with an avenue of study Jayce knows quite well and I think he is…unhappy with how they parted,” Viktor continued carefully.

“And what is it he needs Jayce’s help with?”

Viktor was silent. He looked at Jayce, who sagged in his seat. fight going out of him. He let go of Viktor’s hand to take his mother’s.

“Magic?” he said.

“Jayce—”

“I know, ma. After last time, I…I’m going to be careful. Viktor’s helping me. He’s brilliant, you should hear him—” Jayce cut himself off, blushing. His mother was softened, but there was a sadness to it. “Anyway. It’ll be different. And if it goes well, maybe we can both go back.”

“Maybe, my love,” she said softly. “I am not…I cannot say I am pleased, but I…I just want you to be safe.”

“I know.”

“So be safe. You’re a smart man, Jayce. Don’t…don’t throw everything away, chasing a dream.”

“I won’t,” Jayce said seriously, looking his mother in the eye.

Viktor felt odd, as if he should not be there. The moment was too intimate. Despite everything, he was suddenly vividly reminded that he had only known Jayce for two weeks.

Ximena sighed and took her hands back, putting them in her lap. Jayce sat back. Viktor tried to mimic him.

“I know I can’t make you stay. I wish I could, but…if you are going to Piltover, just be sure you come back,” Ximena said.

“Yes, mom. I promise,” Jayce said gently.

“Good,” Ximena said, wiping her eye suddenly. Tears had been gathering. Viktor hadn’t noticed. “You’ll miss your train now, if you don’t hurry. And you don’t want to bother poor Viktor’s leg.”

Viktor let the comment slide. There had been enough tension for one night, but Jayce put a hand on his back, rubbing it soothingly. He understood. He had always understood. It was strange that Viktor had once thought he wouldn’t, in another distant lifetime.

“Okay, mom. I love you,” Jayce said, getting to his feet and kissing her head.

“I love you too,” she said, standing and ushering them to the door.

As they reached the door, she held Viktor’s arm, pulling him back for a moment. Jayce turned back and she waved him ahead.

“I need a word with your new partner. It won’t be a minute,” she said.

Nerves built in Viktor’s stomach as Jayce nodded and went through the door. Ximena Talis was a kind woman, he knew that, but she loved her son enough to be cruel.

“Jayce loves you,” she said, stating a fact.

“I know, Ximena, I—” Viktor started.

“He is going back to Piltover because of you. He nearly died when he got exiled the first time. I don’t want to think of what will happen if he is disgraced again,” she said, voice hard, sterner than he had ever heard her in any lifetime.

“I know. It is my fault entirely,” Viktor conceded, feeling guilty about dragging Jayce into it for the first time since they’d met.

“Can you promise me nothing bad will happen to him? That you will look out for him?”

“Of course. I…I love him too.”

“Good,” Ximena said after studying Viktor for a moment. “Then I will see you again, when you both return.”

“I look forward to it.”

Ximena hugged him quickly, kissed his cheek, and opened the door, where Jayce was waiting. She squeezed his shoulder, gave her son one last hug, and watched them go with tears in her eyes.

“What did my mom want?” Jayce asked once they were settled in their seats on the train.

“To warn me that if I let anything happen to you, she would hold me responsible,” Viktor said with a shrug.

“Oh, gods, I’m sorry. She—”

“No. She’s right. I dragged you into this. I…when we met, before, in the other ones, you were on a ledge. I won’t put you back there.”

“I…yeah. I nearly did it this time, but I won’t go back, I promise.”

Jayce leaned against him and Viktor took his hand. They passed their train ride in silence, simply enjoying each other’s warmth and company. The next morning, when they boarded the train for Piltover, in another private compartment, they didn’t talk about Ximena or their anxieties surrounding Hextech and going back to Piltover. They talked about their plans, about how Piltover had changed, about what Jayce had missed, about what they wanted to do and make, about Hextech. Viktor was amazed. He had been with Jayce for nearly two weeks straight and he had not grown tired of talking to him. He doubted he ever would. It felt as if they were embarking on some great, world-changing thing.

No one was there to greet them at the station. That was not unexpected. Jayce seemed annoyed, muttered something about Heimerdinger under his breath, but hoisted both of their bags over his shoulder and let Viktor lead the way.

“You will like Powder, I think. And Ekko. Brilliant, the pair of them. They’re going to do great things,” Viktor chatted happily as they walked.

“Yeah, you’ve said. You’d think they were your own kids,” Jayce teased.

“Well, no. But…they are something. Almost family,” Viktor said.

“Then I’m sure I’ll love them.”

Viktor rolled his eyes but smiled. Jayce was sappy sometimes. One of his charms. When they reached Powder’s lab, Viktor unlocked the door without knocking. It felt good to be back. His time with Jayce was not wasted, but he was ready to get to work.

“Powder? Ekko? Professor?” he called out as they entered.

There was a small exclamation and the sound of feet running towards them. A moment later, Powder appeared in the doorway. She let out a cry and ran to throw her arms around Viktor, nearly knocking the wind out of him.

“Viktor! You’re back!” she said.

“I am,” he said, returning the hug. “And look who I found.”

Powder let him go with a smile and then turned to Jayce with wide eyes. Jayce smiled and held out his hand, already trying to charm her as if she were an investor. Somethings did not change across timelines, apparently.

“Jayce Talis,” Jayce said.

“Powder NoLastName,” Powder said in a mock serious voice taking his hand and shaking it firmly.

“I, um, nice to meet you,” Jayce said, glancing at Viktor. “Viktor’s said a lot about you.”

“All lies. But! Oh! Wait. I should…”

“What is it, Powder?” Viktor asked.

“Heimer wanted me to wait until he and Ekko were here to explain it, but there’s been a…development,” Powder said carefully. Viktor could see the excitement brimming just below the surface.

“What kind of development?” Viktor asked.

“Okay, so—"

“Oh shit. Jayce.”

Next to him, Jayce was frozen, staring at a young woman standing in the doorway behind Powder. She looked worse for wear, dressed in a scuffed leather jacket with poorly dyed black hair. She was staring at Jayce, smiling slightly, as if she knew him.

“I…you…I’m so—” Jayce started, words coming out strange and choked.

“Jayce?” Viktor asked, putting a hand on his cheek, making him look down at him.

Jayce blinked rapidly. He looked like he was about to cry. Viktor glanced at the young woman again. There was something familiar about her he couldn’t quite place.

“She died,” Jayce said quietly, only looking at Viktor.

“Powder? Who is this?” Viktor said, not looking at her, not daring to look away from Jayce.

“Oh, um. This is Vi. My sister.”

Chapter Text

The new world, the new Powder, was disorienting. It was like every dream Ekko had ever had coming true. Benzo and Vander, alive and well, laughing over nothing like they used to. Claggor and Mylo dogging Powder’s steps, growing into men he didn’t think he’d ever see. Vi wasn’t there. The one bit of salt in the wound. And Silco. Who was with Vander. Who was Powder’s dad and they were still too close. It was hard to drop his guard around him, even if he was softer somehow. More jovial.

“No matter, my boy! You’ll get used to it,” Heimerdinger had said early on, with a comforting pat of his furry hand.

“But what about the other me?” Ekko asked.

“Goodness, what a quandary! Are you two the same or fundamentally different? Your experiences, yes, but your soul…hm. What an interesting thought. Now, my old friend—”

Ekko tuned him out at that point. He liked Heimerdinger, but he rarely had anything useful to say when he started talking about old friends who had died before Ekko’s great-grandparents were born. Still, the question bothered him. It created a wall between him and Powder. Being with her hurt sometimes. In his reality, his own Jinx was so fucked up, but he still saw her in the way Powder laughed, teased, worked, in every expression. He tried to forget. He found he couldn’t.

After Viktor left, all they did was work on their project for the Distinguished Innovator’s Competition. It was freeing, working on his battery, ignoring Hextech for a little bit. Something about it, about the anomaly they had been trying to create, made him feel wrong. Like his insides were being ever so subtly rearranged. It was a necessity, though. This new world was nice, better than his own, but he had people to get back to.

“Well, it’s not use without Viktor, you know,” Heimerdinger had said when Powder brought up working on Hextech in his absence. “He really is the brains behind the operation.”

She’d left it at that with a small shrug. She liked Viktor. They were growing close. Ekko liked the thought. A mentor for her, another older brother to tease and confide in. Someone to be there once he was gone.

Later, he asked Heimerdinger about it, if Viktor really was the brains. He had heard of him back in his own world, but very little. Only that some Undercity kid had clawed his way to the Academy and had something to do with Hextech. Ekko hadn’t thought much of him then. He had sneered when the Hexgates opened, certain that that Viktor had forgotten them all. Now, though, he wasn’t so sure. Surely some of this Viktor existed in the one he’d never met back home.

“Viktor? Hm, yes, just as instrumental as Jayce. Quite the pair of brilliant minds! He had plans to bring Hextech to the common man, although…well, better not to say. Our Viktor, back home, is a desperate man. You saw the…thing that had grown around him,” Heimerdinger said when he asked, a little darkly.

Ekko shuddered. He had seen it. A webbed mess of organic shapes that now seemed familiar, after the wild rune, after Jayce touched the anomaly. But he understood. This Viktor had grey lung. That Viktor almost certainly did as well and was probably in worse shape. He hoped he was okay, but doubted it. 

The day before the Distinguished Innovator’s Competition, Ekko was brooding. Their project was done. Perfect. Claggor was jealous, bitterly saying he’d settle for second. Everything still felt off. He was homesick. He never wanted to leave. Jinx and Powder blurred in his mind. Not for the first time, he wished he had never come there.

“Something on your mind, Little Man?”

Ekko looked up with a reflexive curl of his lip. Silco was tending bar. He smirked and set a glass of something in front of him.

“Goodness. We are in a temper today,” he said.

“Sorry,” Ekko muttered, though it still felt weird. “I’m just…I don’t feel like myself. Lately.”

“Hm, yes. Powder seems to think so too.”

Ekko shrugged. He took a sip. Cider, not too sweet, not too strong. It was one of his favorites. This Silco knew him. It was annoying and a little bittersweet. Aside from Vi’s death, his timeline was feeling like the worst one more and more.

“I know Benzo is your usual…confidant. Or one of the boys, but I am willing to lend a sympathetic ear,” Silco said lightly, pausing his work.

Ekko looked at him. Lately, and only sometimes, he could feel the other Ekko’s memories stir to the surface. Silco giving him his first drink when he was fourteen, bandaging Powder’s knee, sitting with his head resting on Vander’s shoulder, gifting him a book on mechanics that was far too advanced, that he still had, worn and loved. He sighed. Maybe it would be okay to give into this world’s Ekko, just a little bit. He didn’t want to mess up his life while he was gone. Dormant. Sleeping. Whatever or wherever he was.

“I…you ever feel like you woke up in the wrong world?” Ekko said, deciding that the truth disguised as metaphors was the way to go.

“Occasionally,” Silco replied.

“I…I just…I feel like I don’t fit here. And Pow…”

“Yes?” Silco prompted, sharper than he had been.

“She’s just…I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Then don’t. You are now, by the way.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ekko said sadly. He was. She was hiding it well.

“You are here, Ekko,” Silco said pointedly. “Act like it. We are all…family of a type. Ever since Vander…well…you don’t want to hear me rehash the past.”

Ekko shrugged. He would have liked to, actually. Get the whole story about how Vander had forgiven him, how they had ended up married, with Benzo as their best man, when Silco had killed them both in his reality.

“I’ll try. I…you’re right,” Ekko said softly.

“I am. And remember what I said when you first started dating Powder. I was a violent man once.”

Silco flipped the knife he’d been cutting lemons with for emphasis. It was a joke. There was a threat beneath it. Ekko let out a small laugh. Some things were true across timelines apparently. Powder loved Vander. Silco was her undisputed favorite.

A moment later, Powder herself plopped onto the barstool next to him. She looked like she wanted to touch him, reflexive, but stopped. If Silco noticed, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he slid a cup of that orange drink she liked to her.

“Thanks, dad,” she said, taking a long sip and then turning to Ekko. “Come on. We need to check the calibrations one last time.”

“It’s fine, Pow,” Ekko said. “You’re overthinking.”

His hand hovered just a moment before coming to rest on her back. She stiffened, then relaxed, smiling a little shyly at the contact. A soft smile crossed Silco’s face. Ekko ignored it. He would have to get used to this Silco, though, for however long they stayed there.

“I’m overthinking our way to victory, you mean,” she said, a teasing lilt to her voice.

“Let’s hope so.”

They finished their drinks and left. Ekko let his hand stay on her back the whole time. Silco was right. If he was here, he needed to act like it, whatever that meant.

The competition was an unmitigated success. They took first. Claggor took third. Mylo got to dance with Gert, who still refused to date him, which made sense. She was way out of his league. He kissed Powder. It felt like the first time. It was his first time. Maybe it would be okay. When Viktor got back, they’d figure out Hextech, he’d go home. For now, he’d take Silco’s advice. He’d live like he belonged there, like the other timeline didn’t exist.

When Viktor sent a letter saying he’d be another week, Ekko felt relief. One more week with Powder, with Benzo. He was still living with him. It was nostalgic and sad. His old bedroom was still recognizable but changed. Less little wind-up toys and vehicles, more books and serious projects. He found the start of his hoverboard in the closet. Before he could remember that he was leaving, he got excited about working on it with Powder. He brought it to her lab anyway.

“Where’d you dig this up?” Powder asked with a grin, bending in close to study the engine.

“My closet. Figured it was time to bring it into the light,” he replied, watching her. “What do you think?”

“That it could go faster and be a little…flashier,” Powder said, turning to him with a manic grin that reminded him painfully of Jinx.

“Next project?”

“Oh yeah. Definitely.”

He kissed her then, just a little peck. They were doing that now. It felt right. He knew Heimerdinger wanted to stay. He was beginning to agree, his duties back home were feeling less and less pressing. Scar could manage it, maybe even better than he could. Let his face be added to the memorial mural.  Maybe he could have an easy life for once. It was selfish. With Powder by his side and Benzo’s laugh echoing through the bar, it was hard to care.

It was the third day after the Distinguished Innovator’s Competition, two days after Viktor’s letter. He and Powder were recalibrating the chemicals used to power the engine. He thought the green was fine. Powder wanted it to change color at random, another thing that reminded him of Jinx with a pang. She could figure it out. It would just take time.

Heimerdinger, thankfully, was out of the lab. He enjoyed wandering the Undercity as some sort of benevolent bard and, since the competition and since Viktor had left, was doing it more and more. Sometimes Ekko wondered if he’d be a scientist at all if he wasn’t there to mentor.

He had made a bad joke. Powder was laughing. Then there had been the smell of ozone and a crackle. He had jumped to cover her without thinking as a burst of light filled the room. When it was done, they were alive, unharmed. There had been no explosion, nothing was out of place.

“You okay?” Ekko whispered to Powder.

“Yeah, what was—”

Powder froze. She was looking at something behind Ekko, her wide eyes even wider and her face suddenly pale. Ekko whipped his head around.

Vi stood in the middle of the area they’d created to test the anomaly. Or she swayed, rather. She looked awful. Her hair was poorly dyed black and dark make-up streaked down her cheeks. There was a bruise on one side of her face and her knuckles were bloody. He knew, instinctively, that she was his Vi.

“Vi?” he said before he could think and Powder drew a sharp breath.

“Yeah,” Vi said, voice slurring. She was drunk. That would not make anything easier.

“How did you—”

Vi interrupted him by doubling over and vomiting spectacularly. Ekko tried to get to his feet, but Powder was frozen, gripping his arms stronger than he would have thought possible. By the time he untangled himself, Vi had finished vomiting and sunk to her knees, thankfully avoiding the mess by centimeters.

“I feel like shit,” she muttered as Ekko reached her. “Where the fuck am I?”

“I…I think you’re too drunk for that conversation,” Ekko said with an apologetic smile.

“Huh. Maybe. You’re sensible, Little Man. A sensible Little Man,” Vi said with a half-giggle, patting his cheek playfully.

Ekko sighed. At least she was a happy drunk.

“Come on,” he said, hoisting her to her feet. “Let’s get you—”

“Vi?”

Powder’s voice was small, but she might as well have screamed, Vi snapped her head towards her. Eyes narrowing, then widening, then narrowing again. She shook her head bitterly and Ekko had to hold onto her as she swayed.

“Nah. You’re not here,” she said.

“Vi, is that really you?” Powder asked again, getting to her feet, taking a few cautious steps towards her sister.

“Powder, I’ll explain everything, but maybe Vi needs to—” Ekko started.

“Who are you supposed to be? A sick kinda joke?” Vi snapped.

“Vi, she’s not—”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Powder said, voice still small.

“Come on, Jinx. Don’t be—”

“Why’d you call me that? You know I hate it when Mylo calls me that,” Powder said. There were tears in the corner of her eyes now.

“It’s your name. Choose it yourself. Or maybe Silco did. I don’t know. You won’t tell me,” Vi spat back.

“What does dad have to do with—”

“He is not your father! Our dad is. Or Vander is. That’s it,” Vi said, lurching herself out of Ekko’s grip and stumbling towards Powder.

“I know that. They’re…Ekko what’s going on?” Powder said, wrenching her eyes from her sister to him.

“I…kind of don’t know exactly. But she’s…drunk?” Ekko said, reaching for Vi again, but she shrugged away from him.

“I am buzzed,” Vi said, suddenly mad at him.

“Sure. Powder, I promise I’ll explain, but can you just go? Vi needs—” Ekko said, reaching for Vi again, steadying her.

“No. Vi—” Powder said, turning back to Vi and hugging herself. “You died.”

Vi froze. Ekko successfully looped one of her arms over her shoulder, putting the other around her waist to support her. She was a ragdoll now, only looking at Powder. She shook her head quickly then groaned and reeled a little to one side. This time, Powder was close enough to catch her. She withdrew her hands quickly, as if burned.

“No I didn’t. You…you’re not Jinx, are you?” Vi said quietly.

“I’m Powder. You know that, right?”

Vi looked at her and then laughed. It was a horrible, sad thing that made both of them wince. Powder took another step back. She looked at Ekko, then Vi, then back to Ekko again, stealing herself.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I’m going to go get dad,” she said.

“I don’t know if that’s a good—”

“I can’t, Ekko. I need…either of them. Both of them. I…” Powder’s voice broke.

“Yeah, okay, but…maybe just Vander?”

Powder gave a quick nod. Then the tears finally fell. She put a hand over her mouth to stifle the noise and hurried from the lab. Vi watched her until she was gone.

“Shit. This is…Ekko, what the fuck?” she said.

“You believe in alternate universes?” Ekko asked with a sigh.

“No.”

“Well. That’s too bad,” Ekko said, helping her to the couch.

Once she was there, it was easy. He helped her with her jacket, her shoes. Gave her a tall glass of water and covered her with a blanket. After a moment of consideration, he put an empty bucket next to her head. Despite it all, Vi was snoring in moments. Ekko watched her for a moment. All hell would break loose as soon as she was awake. There was no hiding anything now.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, putting his head in his hands.

Powder came back after nearly an hour, Vander and Silco in tow. Ekko didn’t say anything, just gestured to Vi’s sleeping form. Vander froze, clasping his hand where he had tattooed her name. Silco watched her with an unreadable expression. Powder, much to his surprise, pulled him into a hug. He held her, letting her rest her head against his shoulder, feeling her shoulders shaking.

“Right. Ekko, care to explain?” Vander said after a moment.

“Yeah, um, okay. So…gods, this would be easier with Heimerdinger here,” Ekko muttered.

“Should I go get him?” Silco asked.

Ekko nodded. Silco left. It was easier with him gone. Vander sat next to Vi, resting a hand on her head. He sighed. Vi seemed to relax a bit in her sleep. For a moment, she looked younger than Ekko had seen her in a long time.

“Is it really her?” he asked.

“Yeah. Or…yeah. It’s complicated,” Ekko said.

“If she…if she’s real, I don’t think I care how she got back here,” Vander said quietly.

Powder turned away from Ekko, watching them for a moment. Then she let go of him and went to lean against Vander, her hand joining his on Vi’s head.

Ekko felt like he was intruding. He wanted to go, but he needed to explain, to be there if Vi woke up. It was a mess. Whatever was going on back home, it felt like he was dragging it into this timeline. It was unfair. Everyone was so happy here.

When Silco and Heimerdinger arrived, Heimerdinger launched into his whole alternate universe thing unprompted, which saved some time. Ekko was pretty sure a lot of it went over Silco and Vander’s heads. None of it went over Jinx’s. When he was done, Vi was still asleep and everyone else was silent.

“So Vi, this Vi, is from another timeline?” Vander asked.

“Yes, ours I believe! How strange. Ekko, do you think—” Heimerdinger said.

“She needs to go back. Her Powder needs her,” Powder said.

“She…her Powder is…they aren’t talking,” Ekko finished lamely. It was too much to explain the whole dynamic.

“What about the rest of us?” Silco asked as if he didn’t want to know the answer. “How are we faring?”

Ekko was quiet for an awkward amount of time. Heimerdinger ended up cutting in.

“Well, I’m not sure! I don’t know either of you gentlemen, but perhaps Ekko—”

“Dead. You’re both dead. Benzo, Claggor, and Mylo too,” Ekko said, ripping off the bandaid. “Silco’s fault, but Jin—Powder, my Powder, blames herself.”

There was another long, awkward pause after that. Then Silco got to his feet with a sigh. Vander stood, holding out a hand to stop him, but Silco shook his head.

“I gather that she will not want to see me when she wakes. I’ll be at the bar when you’re ready,” he said.

“Sil—”

“Take your time, Vander,” Silco said, standing on his tiptoes as Vander leaned down to kiss him swiftly and leaving. Ekko was still not used to that. 

“I think I will make my leave as well. Perhaps I’ll stop for a bit of wine on the way out. I think we could all use…something,” Heimerdinger said, suddenly at a loss, following Silco on small feet.

“I…should I go too?” Powder asked, staring after them.

“I don’t know,” Ekko replied.

“I…I need some air. Come with me?” she said.

“Of course.”

“I’ll wait with her. She’ll want to see you when she wakes up, Pow,” Vander said, settling next to Vi again.

He and Powder didn’t speak until they were far away from the lab. She took him to some garden. In his world, it was a junkyard. Pretty, delicate metal sculptures swayed in the breeze and the fragrance of night flowers filled the air. Piltover’s lights shone, just visible, in the distance. He missed his home suddenly, and wasn’t sure if he could stand going back.

“Who are you?” Powder asked.

“Ekko,” Ekko said.

“No, I mean—”

“I’m not…I’m not your Ekko.”

“Yeah, I know,” Powder said softly. “I…it kinda explains it. How you’ve been acting.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t…I didn’t know what to do.”

“Where is he? My Ekko?”

“I…I don’t know. I…I think he’s still here. I can remember stuff sometimes and…I don’t…Heimerdinger had a better grasp on all of this than I do,” Ekko said, looking at his hands, avoiding Powder’s intent gaze.

“No, I don’t think he does,” Powder said.

“He’s centuries old and a genius.”

“He doesn’t get it. You heard what he said about Viktor’s disease. And he wants to have a drink with my dad after all that. He doesn’t even know Vi and dad’ll have to pour it for him and he hates Heimerdinger,” Powder said, speaking quickly.

“Why?” Ekko asked.

“Because this—” Powder said, gesturing between the two cities. “Is his doing. Or not his…he ignored it for years. Zaun. That’s why it used to be so bad.”

“That’s a lot to blame him for,” Ekko said, suddenly defensive.

“I’m not wrong.”

Ekko didn’t answer. He had a feeling she was right. He didn’t want her to be. He ran a hand over his face and wished he was back home, by which he meant his old room in Benzo’s house. Which was disorienting.

“Pow…” he sighed.

“I like him, Ekko. I do. Or I think I do, but…sorry. I don’t want to fight. I don’t know who you—where’s my Ekko? I just want to talk to him,” Powder said miserably.

“He’s…look. My…Powder. Jinx. She’s…different from you. But you guys are still the same in so many ways. She likes color and is loud and funny and…and loves her family so much she lets it drown her. I know you, Pow. I think you know me too.”

Powder studied him. Then she took his hand and squeezed it, face falling into sadness. He knew that look better. Jinx wore it a lot. They weren’t friends. They weren’t anything, really. He missed her. His Jinx. Her Ekko. Wrong place, wrong time.

“I can’t…you’re still not him,” Powder said softly.

“I know. You aren’t her either,” Ekko said.

“So now what?”

“We make the anomaly. I go home. Ekko, your Ekko, comes back,” Ekko sighed. It was the only solution now.

Powder leaned in and kissed his cheek. He felt like crying.

“Okay. Well. That’s a solution. But Vi, what about her?” she asked.

“I don’t know. She’ll come back with us, probably.”

“Oh. Then. Oh. I…what if she wants to stay? There’s no Vi here. She could…we could be sisters. Again.”

“I don’t know. Ask Heimerdinger.”

Powder rolled her eyes, but then she leaned against Ekko’s shoulder, hair tickling his cheek.

“You aren’t my Ekko, but…we’re still friends,” she said.

“Yeah,” Ekko said, wrapping an arm around her.

“And your Powder? Jinx, right?”

“We’re not. She’s…gods, you don’t…it’s hard to explain. She probably hates me.”

“Nah,” Powder said confidently. “Don’t give up on her, Little Man.”

Ekko was quiet. They sat like that for a long time, until her head grew heavy on his shoulder, until the cold stone of the bench started to get uncomfortable. Then, as if in agreement, they stood, walking back arm in arm. Powder paused at the entrance to the Last Drop. She hugged him, kissed his cheek again, and went inside.

Ekko went back to the lab. Vander was still sitting with Vi, a soft look on his face. He smiled tiredly at Ekko when he saw him.

“Has she woken up?” Ekko asked.

“No. She was always a heavy sleeper,” Vander replied.

“Can I stay here?”

Vander nodded. Ekko sat next to him, waiting, but his own eyes grew heavy and soon, he was sprawled on the floor next to Vi’s couch. Someone, Vander, put a blanket over him and a pillow under his head.

When he woke, sometime in the morning, Vander was asleep against a wall and Powder was curled against him. Vi was sitting up, staring at them. When she turned to Ekko, her face was glazed with tears, and she was sober.

“Is this real?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Ekko replied.

Vi got off of the couch and half-crawled to Vander and Powder. When she reached them, she only paused a moment before curling against Vander’s other side and reaching across to touch her sister’s face. Powder woke with a start. She stared at Vi for a moment before her face broke into a wide smile. The movement woke Vander. He shifted to put an arm around both of them and then, they were holding each other and crying. Ekko looked away. The moment was private. He was the wrong Ekko. She was the wrong Vi. Now the inevitable seemed that much worse.

Chapter Text

Vi was alive. It was a paradox of sorts, but Viktor was getting used to those. Vi stared expectantly at Jayce, a half-smile slowly fading from her face as Powder looked between the two of them. Jayce was pale, still only looking at Viktor. He looked as if he had seen a ghost, which was probably some version of the truth.

“I…I didn’t…” Jayce stammered out.

“It’s all right,” Viktor said soothingly moving his hand from Jayce’s cheek to take his hand. Jayce clung to it like a lifeline, still not quite looking at Vi.

“You are not from our world, I take it?” Viktor said, facing the sisters, getting straight to the point.

“No, I’m not,” Vi replied. “You must be the other one. Viktor, right?”

Viktor nodded. He glanced at Jayce. He was still gripping Viktor’s hand as if he would vanish if he let go, but some of the color returned to his cheeks. Vi was not a ghost, just another version of herself, one that had been allowed to grow to adulthood.

“I didn’t want you to find out this way,” Powder said awkwardly. “I was going to meet you at the station and explain, but, well, I got caught up in stuff.”

“Eh, it happens,” Viktor said, accepting her apology for both of them.

“So, this is him?” Powder asked.

“Yes, this is him,” Viktor said fondly.

Powder grinned and hopped forward, studying Jayce. Viktor waited for her assessment. They’d get along, he was sure of it. Both geniuses he loved.

“He’s taller than I thought he’d be,” she said to Viktor before turning back to Jayce. “But glad you’re here. Any friend of Viktor’s is a friend of mine,” she said.

Viktor smiled wryly at her. He supposed their relationship was obvious. It had only been him and Jayce for two weeks. There was no need to be subtle then and now he found he didn’t especially want to be.

Jayce finally looked at Powder again. His brow wrinkled slightly and something like fear or dislike crossed his features for just a moment. Powder drew back quickly, and Vi’s protective hand was on her shoulder. Jayce shook his head with a small laugh as if chasing away a bad dream.

“Sorry. I. You seemed familiar for a second,” Jayce said sheepishly.

“One of those faces,” Powder said with a shrug, smile hiding something else. “Let’s go into the lab. Heimerdinger and Ekko will be back soon and…and we have a lot to catch you up on.”

“Yes, I think so,” Viktor said, giving Vi a pointed look as Powder took his arm, steering him down the hallway to the lab proper.

Jayce was still holding his hand. Viktor turned back and found Jayce still staring at Vi who didn’t quite seem to know what to do with herself. He frowned. They needed to talk to Ekko and Heimerdinger, learn more about the Vi situation, but then they would go home. He was ready to let Jayce rest and talk until all the hurt was gone. No one had made him this soft before. He thought of the flashes of memory and wondered which belonged to Vi’s Viktor and Jayce. He hoped they were happy or, barring that, together at least.

“Jayce?” he said gently.

Jayce’s eyes snapped to him and something in him shifted. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Some of the tension very slowly left his shoulders. He was trying. That would have to be enough.  

“So, um, are you two together?” Vi asked in a very clear effort to make small talk.

“Yes,” Viktor asked simply.

“Huh. My Cait. Or…my world’s Caitlyn,” Vi said, bitterness lacing through her words. “My…anyway, she thought you two were together. Or had been together or had a…what did she call it? ‘Tortured situation they refuse to acknowledge’. Glad to see you’re less tortured here.”

“Eh, we’re trying.”

“Caitlyn Kiramman?” Jayce asked.

“Yeah,” Vi said shortly.

“Have you met this one yet?” Jayce asked, trying to match Vi’s small talk efforts.

Vi shook her head, shoving her hands in her pocket. The air between them was palpably awkward as they stepped into the lab. As soon as they were inside, Jayce made a beeline for the far wall, pretending to be fascinated by the machine spread out in pieces across two worktables. Viktor followed him, putting a hand on his back. Jayce jumped at the contact.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

“No. But I’ll survived. She…this is a lot, V. She died. I saw her and—"

“Hey, um,” Vi said from behind them, making Jayce jump again. When they turned to face her, he clutched the back of Viktor’s vest like it was a lifeline.

“I don’t blame you,” Vi said continued taking a deep breath. “For what happened to the me that was here, so don’t…don’t blame yourself. It was an accident. Pow explained.”

“Thanks, but–”

“No. No buts. We’re, well, friendly if not friends in my world, believe it or not. I don’t want you to…spiral about this.”

“I…thanks,” Jayce said again, sighing. “But you’re not her.”

“No, but I’m pretty damn close. And…and I think she’d forgive you too. God, this place…”

“What’s–what’s it like? In your world?” Jayce asked. Viktor could feel his curiosity peeking through.

“Sucks. My sister is dead. Vander is dead. Just broke-up with my girlfriend,” Vi said bitterly.

“That’s why her hair looks like that,” Powder said sadly, coming to join them. “I’m gonna fix it for her.”

“And we’re…friends. But you don’t know Viktor?” Jayce asked.

“Leave it. It doesn’t matter here,” Viktor said softly.

“Yeah, I…I know,” Jayce said like he didn’t mean it.

“See? Less tortured. This is the good universe,” Vi said, smiling.

“So. What is this?” Viktor asked, gesturing at the machine on the table, ready to talk about anything else.

“Me and Ekko’s hoverboard. What do you think?” Powder said grinning and reaching for the schematics.

By the time Powder explained the hoverboard and Viktor and Jayce got the chance to study it, the awkwardness in the lab had lifted. Jayce still seemed a little wary around Vi, but Viktor caught him laughing at one of her jokes. He could imagine them being friends in Vi’s world.

The mood shifted again to something tense when the door burst open and Heimerdinger and Ekko entered. When the professor saw Jayce and Viktor he stopped suddenly, nearly tripping Ekko, and a grin spread across his face. Jayce, in contrast, did not look pleased.

“Boys! Goodness! Jayce. What a pleasant—hm, the beard is new, but quite impressive,” Heimerdinger said, padding over to them, studying Jayce, looking for differences, Viktor assumed.

“Professor. Hello,” Jayce replied coolly.

“Ah, yes. I owe you an apology, though I will point out that it was not me, but my…other self, this universe’s Cecil B. Heimerdinger, who exiled you.”

“You’re not–he’s not–” Jayce said, looking at Viktor.

“Oh. Yes. I forgot to mention. We were…occupied,” Viktor said lightly. Jayce gave him an incredulous look, but some of the anger drained out of him.

“With Hextech, I presume?” Heimerdinger asked and Powder had to slap a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing aloud.

“Yes, and I made Viktor new braces. The least I could do,” Jayce said, looking at him so fondly that even Heimerdinger couldn’t ignore it.

“Oh. Well. That does make sense too,” he muttered to himself. “But I have much to tell you! You see, other universes–”

“We know. We saw when we, eh, when we met,” Viktor said.

“Saw?”

“Other versions of us across, erm, across the universes or timelines. I don’t, we don’t remember much–”

“But we were always together,” Jayce finished for him.

“Excellent! Well, that saves us some time. Now, me, Vi, and Ekko are from the same–”

“Ekko?” Viktor said, glancing at Ekko, who had been uncharacteristically quiet.

“Yeah, me too,” he said softly. “Hey, Jayce. Good to meet this version of you.”

“So, we know each other in your universe?” Jayce asked, shaking Ekko’s offered hand. “Do you know Vik–that Viktor?” Jayce asked.

“No. I mean, I’d heard of an Undercity kid working on Hextech, but I didn’t actually know his name until right before I…left. Sorry,” Ekko said, glancing at Viktor.

Viktor was quiet. He wondered who he was in that world. A recluse, it seemed, save for Jayce and Heimerdinger. A sad thought.

“Enough introductions! I want to hear all about your progress and, well, we have serval things to share with you,” Heimerdinger said, ushering the group to the small sitting area near Powder’s tent. Jayce put his arm around Viktor’s shoulders reflexively as they settled on the couch. Viktor leaned against him, smiling. It still felt like they were making up for lost time.

It took a long time to explain everything. He and Jayce shared what they had discussed, what their new theories were. Heimerdinger, Ekko, and Powder interrupted frequently with questions while Vi listened and tried not to look bored. When it was their turn to speak, everyone started at once.  They didn’t know what dragged Vi there. After a rocky start, she seemed to settle in with no obvious disruptions. No other strange occurrences, no other anomalies. Powder was hesitant to question it. Viktor understood. It was a gift. If his mother and father appeared in front of him, healthy and whole, he wouldn’t ask questions either, no matter what universe they were from.

Viktor wondered if they were like he and Jayce, fated to be together in each universe. Perhaps that was all the explanation there was. The timeline found a Vi without a Powder and put them together again, a matching set. It was close to the idea of soulmates, which he was starting to believe in. It was not an inherently romantic concept. He had never believed it to be such. From the glimpses he had seen, he and Jayce were together in every universe, but not necessarily together. Romance appeared to be secondary to whatever they were.

“So where does that leave us?” Viktor asked when everyone was done talking.

“That’s the other thing,” Powder said softly. “We talked, and, um, Vi’s not going back. Neither is Heimerdinger.”

“And Ekko?”

“I’m going. I…I have people back home waiting for me,” he said, the last part delivered pointedly at Vi who was ignoring him.

“That’s why you need us for Hextech. To send you home,” Viktor said, everything falling into place.

“Yes. We need an anomaly, a wild rune,” Heimerdinger said.

Viktor and Jayce drew in a breath. Of course. That made perfect sense, but they were so rare and so volatile that it seemed an impossibility. Viktor’s mind spun. He suddenly wanted to see it more than anything. Raw power, the beauty of something brought about by a version of him and Jayce. Hextech had its price, but if they could control the wild rune, show Ekko how so that he could bring it back, it would be worth it. There was so much good they could do.

“It is quite dangerous, but I think that with five genius minds, we are more than up to the task!” Heimerdinger said.

Jayce laughed suddenly. Viktor shot him a worried look.

“Sure. Why not. I’ve already been exiled once,” he said.

“That’s the spirit!” Heimerdinger exclaimed, thrusting a small, furry fist into the air.

Viktor didn’t want to go home after that. Hours passed in a blur of theory and argument. Viktor and Jayce all but took over, finishing each other’s sentences and equations with ease. Viktor wanted to kiss him badly, toss everyone else out of the lab and have his way with him. He had never felt so in sync, so in love before.

Late that evening, there was a knock at the door and Powder’s fathers came in, carrying bags of greasy take-out. It took Viktor a full fifteen minutes to notice. He was engrossed in mapping out a new rune sequence. He was certain that the arcane was more alive, more sentient than anyone had expected it to be. It was a deep rabbit hole he was perfectly happy never to leave.

“Hey, V? You gotta eat something,” Jayce said softly, setting a bowl of something in a yellow sauce at his elbow.

“Hm?” he said, blinking at Jayce.

“Food. Dinner? Powder’s dads brought us something. I…I think you should take a break.”

“No, I’m close to—”

“Come on, V,” Jayce said softly, kissing his head, pushing the food towards him.

“Very well,” Viktor sighed, pushing his notes away and picking up the bowl. Now that he could smell it, his stomach grumbled.

As they ate, Viktor surveyed the others. Vander was sitting with Vi, Ekko, and Heimerdinger, talking animatedly. Powder and Silco, however, were removed, solitary. Vi kept looking at her sister. There was something unspoken and dark in her gaze.

“I think we’re making good progress. Ekko has some ideas about the acceleration rune that sound interesting,” Jayce said, oblivious.

“Perhaps. I will miss him, though,” Viktor said.

“Yeah, well, Powder’s Ekko, this world’s Ekko will take his place, so it won’t be like he’s gone forever, but…he’ll be different, right? The other versions of us have to be different,” Jayce said, half to himself.

“Jayce?”

“I…none of them know you. The other you. But they all know the other me. I…I just don’t like to think of you, any version of you, by yourself.”

Viktor sighed. He hadn’t thought much about it. It wasn’t a surprise. He had reclusive tendences, but Jayce never knew that version of him. He thought for a moment of the other him, alone, no Powder, no Ekko. But Vi and Heimerdinger didn’t seem surprised by his and Jayce’s relationship. Whoever the other him was, he was sure they were together at least.

“He has you, at least. Perhaps that is enough,” Viktor said, taking Jayce’s free hand.

Jayce smiled at that and took a large bite of his meal, fish in a grey sauce, and coughed slightly.

“Not to your taste?” Viktor asked.

“It’s a strong flavor. Spicy,” Jayce said diplomatically.

“Hm. Here. Mine’s milder,” Viktor said, switching with him.

“Really? Powder said this was the least spicy one.”

“Powder was fucking with you,” Viktor said, and Jayce let out a small laugh. “Do you think we should join the others?”

“Yeah, sure. Can’t have you be a recluse here too.”

Jayce took both of their bowls while Viktor got to his feet, setting his crutch under his arm. He took his bowl back and went towards Silco and Powder. Jayce paused, halfway to the other group. Then he shook his head, half at himself, and joined Viktor.

“Can we join you?” Viktor asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Powder said, voice bright and brittle, shifting to make room.

“I’m Jayce, by the way,” Jayce said, offering a hand to Powder’s father. “And this is Vik—”

“Yes, I know. We met after…the accident,” Silco said. “And I know what caused the accident.”

Jayce went quiet, hand dropped. Powder shot her father a look. He was a slight man, intimidating even without the dead eye and the scar across his face. Viktor had heard of him a bit in his youth, before he came to the Academy, when revolution was just starting to brew. He had a complicated reputation then.

“Dad, that doesn’t matter. Vi’s back. And I know she’s acting like you’re…she’ll get over it, whatever it is that happened in her world,” Powder said.

Silco didn’t say anything. He frowned and looked at his meal. There was a reason Vi was not sitting with him. Different timelines, different possibilities. He knew Silco’s reputation. He could imagine what might have been.

“It’s not just you, you know. It’s me too,” Powder continued quietly. “Vi won’t say it. Ekko either, but I think I’m…different there. Worse, maybe?”

“Nonsense. You’re perfect.”

Powder smiled as Silco kissed her head and then continued with his meal. It had been a strangely private moment. Viktor felt awkward, like he should leave, but Silco turned his attention to them. He sized them up for a moment before speaking, focusing mostly on Viktor.

“Powder has told me a lot about you. And you are an interesting figure. Zaunites rarely made it to the Academy before the two cities were united. Too much bureaucracy,” Silco said, shooting a scathing glance at Heimerdinger who seemed to feel it and sat a bit straighter. “What are you plans when you finish this project?”

“We haven’t discussed it,” Viktor said, glancing at Jayce. “But…I’d like to do something useful. Something with water purification, improve the power grid, prosthetics, maybe.”

“For Zaun?” Silco asked pointedly.

“The water and power work, yes. The prosthetics are for everyone,” Viktor said, just as pointedly.

“Hm. Interesting. Vander and I have pull in the community. We’ll lend our support if you need it.”

“Thank you. We—”

“Prosthetics?” Jayce asked. “Not that I don’t agree, but—”

“Yes. The braces gave me the idea and, eh, maybe I’ll be done with it and replace some parts,” Viktor joked, tapping the brace on his leg.

“OH! Can I help? No offense, but you need something with style,” Powder said excitedly.

“You can make my…fancy one. For parties,” Viktor said, grimacing at the thought of something neon attached to him.

“Dad, pass me my notebook and colored pencils!” Powder said, gesturing to the desk next to Silco.

Silco handed it over and Powder started sketching immediately, swapping colors seemingly at random. Viktor watched her, lost in thought. It had been a joke, but it made sense. He’d need another spinal surgery in a few years. That was more than enough time to design a good prosthetic leg, perhaps a spine too. It might reduce his pain, improve his mobility overall. Jayce could help. They could release the schematics for free if they were simple enough, start improving lives now.

“Are you…are you really going to do it?” Jayce asked quietly, pulling Viktor out of his thoughts.

“Hm? Make a new leg? Maybe. Why? Do you not like the idea?” Viktor said.

“No, it’s not…I just like the old one. But it’s your leg, your decision. I just…it’s a big decision,” he said carefully.

“We have time to think about it. Don’t fret,” Viktor said.

Jayce kissed him softly. Viktor let whatever annoyance he felt wash over him. It was just an idea for now. Viktor lay his head against Jayce’s shoulder, food forgotten. Jinx and Silco were talking quietly now. It was peaceful in the lab. He wanted desperately and suddenly for it to always be like this.

It didn’t last. When the meal was finished, Silco and Vander decided to go back to the bar and said their goodbyes. Vi was noticeably cool towards Silco, who avoided talking to her directly. Instead, he went to Powder, giving her one last hug.

“Goodnight, Powder. Don’t stay up too late,” he said.

“I’m not a little kid, dad,” she replied fondly.

Vi turned her head sharply at that. The temperature in the room seemed to drop as Vander put a large hand on her shoulder. Ekko tensed, looking between the two.

“Vi,” Vander said, a low warning.

“I wish you wouldn’t call him that,” Vi said in a low, hard voice.

“What am I supposed to call him? He’s my dad,” Powder shot back.

“Powder,” Silco said, quiet, pleading.

“How about a fucking—” she started.

“Vi,” Vander said, harsher this time. “I don’t know what happened back in your world, but Silco is part of my family now and Powder’s, just as much as you are. I would watch what you say.”

Vi made an ugly face. She opened her mouth to speak several times, but finally gave up, shrugging Vander’s hand off and shoving her hands in her pocket.

“Whatever. I’m going for a walk,” she said and stormed out.

“Vi!” Powder cried, starting after her until Vander stopped her.

“I’ll go after her,” Vander sighed. “You finish up your work. And listen to your father. Don’t stay up too late. And Sil, tend the bar. Benzo can’t do math after eight.”

“I know, Vander,” Silco said with a strained smile.

Vander gave Powder’s shoulder a squeeze, kissed Silco quickly, and followed after Vi. A moment later, Silco sighed and left. The rest of them made it another hour before Powder said she needed to go check on Silco and Jayce feigned exhaustion. Viktor was relieved. He was ready to go home, to have it just be him and Jayce again.

They didn’t talk on the train ride home. Jayce leaned against his shoulder, relaxed, watching the city go by.  He only commented once, when they passed a small coffee shop outside the Academy.

“Oh, I used to love that place,” he said.

“It’s one of my regular spots. We can get breakfast there tomorrow,” Viktor replied, smiling at the thought.

Jayce nodded, not lifting his head. Viktor hoped every train ride would be like this from now on.

Viktor’s apartment was not impressive, the only nice details were the large alcove for his desk and door to the courtyard where he could see the stray cats already gathering. Jayce looked at it as if it were some holy place, eyes catching on the framed sketch of the parts of a clock (his father’s), the photo of him and his parents, and the teapot painted with red flowers (his mother’s).

“Well?” Viktor asked, almost nervous.

“I love it. I love you,” Jayce said, dropping the bags and pulling Viktor into an all-consuming kiss.

Viktor sighed into it, letting his crutch rest against the wall to hold Jayce. He could imagine him here now, permanently. They could replace the worn sofa, put a photo of his mother next to the one of his parents, and get more mugs. Properly adopt at least one of the stray cats, who were now crying pitifully. Viktor broke the kiss with a groan.

“I need to feed them, or they will not stop. A moment,” he said.

“You have cats?” Jayce asked, following him as he gathered a few cans of fish.

“Eh, I have stray cats. Freeloaders,” Viktor said fondly.

Jayce took a can and followed Viktor out to the courtyard. The orange one making a beeline for Jayce as if he also knew him in all universes and timelines. Viktor smiled, bending to stroke the grey one and the little calico as they twined around his legs.

“Thanks,” Jayce said quietly.

“For what?” Viktor asked.

“For finding me. For bringing me here.”

Viktor hummed and ran a hand through Jayce’s hair. He needed to thank Jayce too, but he didn’t have the words yet. Jayce took his hand and kissed it before giving the orange cat a last scratch and standing.

“Bed?” he asked.

“Bed,” Viktor agreed.

By the time Jayce found his toiletries and pajamas and Viktor undid his braces, they were too tired to do anything but curl up together and go to sleep. Jayce went first, breath even and warm against Viktor’s cheek, his arm thrown around his waist. Viktor watched him, content for a moment, before he too fell asleep.

In his dream he stood on the great tower above a ruined city. Piltover and Zaun, he realized with horror. The fossilized version of Jayce was still there, still overgrown. Grief and pity bubbled in Viktor’s stomach as he reached out to touch his cheek with a stardust hand. It might have been his imagination, but the fossilized Jayce leaned into it, just a little.

There was a prickle on the back of his neck. He turned. His older self was there, hood down, frowning in a way Viktor recognized. He was an inconvenient variable in an equation.

“You are not the problem,” he said.

“Oh, wonderful,” Viktor said sarcastically.

“You are where you are supposed to be. You met Jayce, yes, but…hm.”

“Were we not supposed to—”

“You were, but…not quite like this. Something is wrong.”

Viktor looked out on the ruined cities. Figures moved below, strange, uncanny things. He shuddered. Something about them made him feel guilty.

“Usually, it is a Jayce who finds me. You are the first Viktor,” his older self continued.

“How many?” Viktor asked.

“Eh, seven? Eight? There is another one here now. He will come to me, soon enough. They always do, but you are a more pressing matter. Your timeline was safe. Hextech did not exist.”

“Hextech—”

“Is responsible for all this. It was beautiful, yes, but so terrible” his older self said, putting a hand on the shoulder of the fossilized Jayce.

Viktor didn’t say anything. He stared at the fossilized Jayce. Suddenly, all he could see was his Jayce. He could feel his warmth, where they lay sleeping, safe in his bed, a million worlds away.

“One of you will have to stop it,” his older self said.

“It is not just us, perhaps that was always the problem. We have help now. Ekko, Powder—”

“Powder?” his older self said a small smile gracing his face.

“Yes. And Heimerdinger—”

“He is dead.”

“No, I assure you—”

“He is. Yours is, at least. He died almost three years ago. What is…give me your hand.”

Viktor offered his older self his hand. He took it. It was odd. A little like his father back from the grave. They had looked very much alike. He wondered if this version of him missed his father too. When his older self let go of his hand, he wore a grave expression.  

“They all have to go back. Some damage has been done, yes, but it can still be fixed. They all must return to their proper places. Or your world will become this. It will not be our fault, this time. A personal relief that will change nothing,” his older self said with a sigh and a shrug Viktor recognized in an uncanny way, like watching himself in a mirror.

“What do

Viktor woke up to Jayce nuzzling his neck sleepily and sunlight filling his room. His heart was beating hard in his chest. He felt a little bit like crying.

“Viktor, hey, what’s wrong?” Jayce said, suddenly fully awake and worried.

Viktor looked at him with wide eyes. His Jayce was there, breathing. He wasn’t a fossil. He wasn’t dead. He was warm and soft. Birds were singing outside his window. He could hear cars and people on the street. The dream clung to him like mold. He could see the decay, the destruction laying over everything. He let out a shuddering breath and closed his eyes, reaching for Jayce. When he felt his shoulder, warm flesh not cool stone, he relaxed.

“A bad dream. That’s all,” he said, opening his eyes, the vision gone.

Jayce kissed him softly and held him a little tighter. Viktor relaxed in his arms. He would explain later, when he knew what to do. He could see their reactions already. Ekko would accept it. He had already decided to go back. Heimerdinger would argue and talk himself in circles until he realized the truth of the situation. Vi and Powder, though, this would break their hearts.

Chapter Text

They woke fully. Jayce showered. He showered. They showered together, which helped alleviate some of his strange mood. They dressed. Before they left, Jayce wrote a note to Caitlyn, he explained, asking her to meet him for lunch at the Last Drop. Viktor agreed to join them. Inside his apartment, everything seemed fine. Once they left, his strange mood returned.

The dream lingered. He half expected to see his older self around every corner. Viktor shoved it down, pretended everything was fine. He took Jayce to that cafe he used to love, and Jayce ordered a black coffee and egg sandwich. Viktor was quiet. Jayce was worried and Viktor told him not to be. They kissed.  He didn’t tell him about the dream. He didn’t tell him about Old Viktor alone on a derelict building with his fossilized Jayce. He didn’t tell him about the warning.

It could be different this time, Hextech. They could make it different. He needed more details, more data points, before he made any kind of decision. He was stuck. Right thing, wrong thing, never the easy thing. Setting the timeline right, though, that made sense. Heimerdinger could go back. The Academy and the Council had functioned perfectly fine if a little aimlessly since his disappearance, or death if his older self was correct about this world’s Heimerdinger. Another thing to haunt him. Viktor would miss him, either way. There would be statues erected in his honor. Buildings named after him. Ekko was already planning to go. He was not from here. The right Ekko would take his place, and Viktor hoped he was just as brilliant as the other.

Vi couldn’t go. Or shouldn’t go. Powder needed her. He barely knew the girl, not really, but he knew that. He would leave her for last, give them as much time together as he could spare.

He slipped his hand into Jayce’s on the train. Jayce only smiled and gave it a quick squeeze. Viktor thanked everything he could think of that Jayce was his Jayce. He thought he might tear all the various universes apart if he lost him.

“Just as good as I remember,” Jayce said, still smiling as he finished his coffee.

“I always thought their coffee was, eh, a little burnt,” Viktor replied.

“Yeah, it is. Nostalgia, I guess.”

Viktor hummed in agreement.

“You okay. You seem…distant,” Jayce asked, for the third time that morning.

“Yes. Just thinking about the rune sequence,” Viktor said, shrugging.

An easy lie, an easy excuse. Jayce believed him, or pretended to at least, and said something encouraging. Viktor tossed him a faint smile. Jayce seemed like he almost believed it. Later. He would tell him later, when he knew what to do.

When they arrived at the lab, Heimerdinger and Ekko were the only two there. Ekko looked as if he had barely slept. He was staring at the chalkboard, tapping a piece of chalk against his chin, leaving a dusty, white mark. Heimerdinger was relaxing in Jinx’s tent, tuning his guitar. He waved merrily at Viktor and Jayce when as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Hello, boys! Lovely morning, isn’t it?” he said.

“Yes, lovely. Ekko, did you sleep?” Viktor asked, setting his things down.

“Hm? Sleep? No,” Ekko said. “I’ll do that when I get home.”

Viktor and Jayce exchanged a look. Ekko had been quieter since Viktor had gotten back, subdued. He knew it had something to do with returning home, but he hadn’t pried. Perhaps he should. Not sleeping was understandable. Viktor had pulled more all-nighters than he could count, but there was a desperation in him that was unnerving.

“Let’s go get coffee,” Jayce said, putting a hand on Ekko’s shoulder, making him jump.

“I don’t need—”

“I think you do,” Jayce said, already leading Ekko away from the chalkboard.

Ekko let him, putting the chalk down with a sigh. Jayce gave Viktor a look, inviting him, but Viktor shook his head. He needed to talk to Heimerdinger alone and, besides, he had had enough coffee.

After Jayce and Ekko left, Viktor sat for a moment, listening to Heimerdinger tune his guitar and mutter-sing some new ballad to himself. Then he pulled himself together and approached the yordle, knocking on Jinx’s tent as if it had solid walls.

“Yes, Viktor?” Heimerdinger asked, poking his head out.

“I was wondering if we could talk,” Viktor said, ducking into the tent.

“Of course! Sit,” Heimerdinger said as if he owned the play. “Now, what is bothering you, my boy?”

“Do you put much stock in dreams, professor?” Viktor asked after he settled on the couch.

“Dreams? Goodness, no. They’re nothing but stuff and nonsense, never anything of use though the can be quite—well, no, that isn’t right. Never say never, you know. Why Miranda Kuttlebaum, who discovered at least seven distinct types of stars said some of it came to her in dreams. Lovely woman. I do wonder what she is up to these days.”

“She died, professor. Before I was born,” Viktor said gently.

“Ah. Yes, well. A pity,” Heimerdinger said, drooping briefly. “Have you been having…portentous dreams, my boy?”

“I am not sure. I…had a dream or perhaps vision is the better world, I suppose. An older version of myself in a destroyed Piltover,” Viktor started slowly. Heimerdinger gave an encouraging nod. “Jayce was…it doesn’t matter. I have seen him before a few times, the older version of myself. He…he said that the timeline is shattering. That…that our world is in danger of turning out like his. It was frightening. He…I was the only one left.”

“A dark vision indeed. Did you tell you what caused this destruction?” Heimerdinger asked.

“You believe it? My dream?” Viktor asked, relief settling around him like a blanket.

“Yes, if you do. You are not prone to fancy, not like dear Powder, and you are an intelligent man. If you say it is real, then it must be.”

“Thank you, professor,” Viktor said quietly, profoundly touched. “He said it was Hextech that caused such destruction, but—"

“Ah, well. That will save us some heart ache! I quite agree. Terribly dangerous. Once young Ekko has gone home, we ought to destroy all evidence of it. If that is all—”

“There was more. He…he said that you must return to your own timeline. And Vi,” Viktor said, carefully, hoping Heimerdinger would understand.

“Oh. Well. No,” Heimerdinger said simply and went back to tuning his guitar.

“No? Professor, I think—”

“We are content here. We are doing no damage. Powder’s Vi is dead and I fear I have also passed in this world, though I would like to know how I managed such a thing. We are not taking anyone’s place. There aren’t even any anomalies, and we are having a devil of a time creating one. All signs, all tangible signs, point to things here being stable. There is no reason to go.”

“The timeline is—”

“Dreams are…vague. I understand your concern, even the smartest man can be frightened by things of his own imagining. If you’ve uncovered anything concrete in a year or so concerning any damage being done to the timeline, I’ll consider it.”

“A year? Professor, the vision was—”

“A vision. That’s all,” Heimerdinger said firmly.

“And Miranda Kuttlebaum?” Viktor said through gritted teeth.

“Lovely woman. Crazy as a loon,” Heimerdinger shrugged.

“I am not—”

“You mustn’t go on believing so firmly in dreams, my boy. Who knows where it will lead. Now that is all I will say on the matter until you have any concrete evidence.”

“You are being obtuse. If you—”

Heimerdinger started playing a tune on his guitar. Viktor had the urge to take it from his hands and smash it against the wall, force him to listen. He had not expected such a flat refusal from Heimerdinger of all people.

Powder and Vi came into the lab before Viktor could come up with any concrete arguments. Seeing their easy chatter and the way Powder hung on Vi’s every word, every gesture, made his heart ache. He would talk to Vi later, alone. He didn’t have the energy for another flat refusal, not after Heimerdinger.

Lunch was a relief. Viktor was too angry at Heimerdinger to concentrate. The tension between them had bled out and started affecting the others. Ekko snapped at Powder and Vi jumped to defend her, starting a fifteen-minute argument. Jayce screwed up three equations in a row and Powder took over with a condescending sigh. Heimerdinger started loudly writing a song about the folly of following advice from dreams. When Jayce declared that he and Viktor had lunch plans and needed to leave, Viktor threw down his pencil mid-equation and joined him without a word.

“Are you okay?” Jayce asked for the tenth time that day once they were on the stoop of the building.

“Yes,” Viktor snapped.

“Yeah, obviously,” Jayce muttered under his breath.

“Sorry. I…it’s been a long day already,” Viktor sighed.

Jayce pulled him into a hug. Viktor leaned against him, arms by his side. This was good, this was comforting. The dream and Heimerdinger’s stubbornness could be distant memories when he was in Jayce’s arms, breathing in the smell of his coffee and aftershave.

 “It is silly,” Viktor finally said. “I had an argument with Heimerdinger this morning, when you took Ekko for coffee,”

“Heimerdinger’s an asshole,” Jayce said gently, pulling back to look at him. “What was it about?”

“About…I’ll tell you when we get home. I don’t want to ruin lunch.”

“Okay,” Jayce said, kissing him quickly and taking his hand as they stepped into the crowded street. “And you won’t. I’m excited for you to meet Cait, properly I mean.”

“I am looking forward to it as well,” Viktor said with a smile and meaning every word.

The bar was crowded with the lunchtime rush. Once it would have been revolutionaries and miners, now it was a mix of merchants and salarymen and everyone else who lived close enough to walk. And miners, of course. Vander and Silco still had a reputation and rapport among them.

“I think Caitlyn will feel terribly out of—” Viktor started but was interrupted by Jayce’s excited gasp. He let go of Viktor and practically ran to a table in the corner, where Caitlyn was sitting.

“Jayce!” Caitlyn yelled, standing to greet Jayce and pull him into a tight hug.

“Hey, sprout,” Jayce said, holding her just as tightly.

When they let go of each other, they were still grinning and their eyes were a little bright. Caitlyn cleared her throat and turned to Viktor, suddenly stiffer, more formal.

“And Viktor. Lovely to see you again. I see you found Jayce,” she said.

“Yes. Thank you for your help,” Viktor replied, offering her a polite smile.

“I’ve gotten us a table in the corner. It seemed a bit more…intimate. Easier to talk. Are all bars in Zaun like this?” Caitlyn asked, leading them through the crowd.

“This one is a bit tamer than most,” Viktor said, grinning to himself.

“Oh. Well. Fascinating.”

“Yes, well, shall I get us some drinks?” Viktor said, wanting to give Jayce and Caitlyn a moment alone.

“Yes, thank you. Can you get something for Councilor Medarda too? I think she was drinking the house red,” Caitlyn said.

“Mel?” Viktor said before he could stop himself.

“Yes. She asked to join, something about meeting your proteges,” Caitlyn said gesturing to a table in the corner.

Viktor wondered how he hadn’t seen her before. Mel Medarda was sitting, trying her best to look as if she owned the place, in a back corner. The Last Drop was not dirty. It was cozy and warm and comfortable. Homey, even. Next to Mel, it looked dingy and derelict. He knew why she was there. In an hour or two, she’d be in their lab, already planning how to convince the Council to allow Hextech to exist. Yesterday, he would have greeted her as an ally. Today, after his dream, after Heimerdinger, things were more complicated.

Mel smiled and gave a small wave when she saw him. Viktor felt his sour mood return as if it had slapped him in the face.

“Yes. Fine,” Viktor said tersely.

“Do you need help, V?” Jayce asked quietly.

“No, I…no. Go and talk with Caitlyn. I’ll be fine,” Viktor said because, despite it all, he would not ruin this for Jayce.  

Silco came up to him the moment he leaned against the bar. He slid a small shot glass of something a violent shade of green to him. Viktor drank it without asking. It burned and didn’t taste like anything but alcohol.

“We’re going to have to get tablecloths if you keep bringing your Piltie friends around,” Silco said, taking the glass back. “Two councilors in less than a week? How lucky we are.”

Viktor glanced at Silco. His eyes were hard, snake-like. Viktor wanted to put his head in his hands and scream or go to sleep.

“I am just as excited to see Councilor Medarda as you are, Silco,” Viktor muttered.

“Hm. Well. Something to discuss later, perhaps. I assume your fancy friends want our finest wines?”

“Councilor Medarda is drinking the house red, apparently,” Viktor said with a small chuckle.

“Ah. Vander mixed that up this morning. He’ll be happy to know she enjoyed it,” Silco said archly. “Go sit. I’ll bring something suitable.”

“Thank you. Food too? Whatever the special is. I don’t care.”

Silco nodded. It was the most they had spoken. Even years after the peace, there was still a solidarity for Zaunites amongst Pilties.

When he arrived at the table, Mel was laughing at something Jayce said. Her hand was on his arm. Jayce bore it all with his natural good grace. He was also looking at Mel as if he’d never seen anyone like her before. This was likely true, but it still rankled Viktor, which annoyed him. He had assumed he was above petty jealousy and trusted Jayce besides.

“Hey, V,” Jayce said, getting up from his chair to greet him, effectively shaking Mel’s hand off his arm. “Mel says you offered to introduce her to Powder and Ekko?”

“Yes. I did,” Viktor said.

“At the last Kiramman party. I have a free afternoon, if today works for you all,” Mel said.

“Should be fine, though we’re kind of stuck. There really isn’t much to show you,” Jayce said.

“I’m sure that’s not true. Now sit, the both of you. I would love to hear all about your work,” Mel said as if this were her home.

The only chair left in the corner. It would be harder to get into, but, what was worse, it was the furthest from Jayce. Viktor pulled a face. Jayce caught it and put a hand on his back, rubbing it gently.

“I can switch seats. It’s not a problem,” he said softly.

“No, no. You want to talk to Caitlyn. I will manage,” Viktor replied.

“V—”

“I can switch,” Mel said, standing. “I apologize. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Thank you,” Viktor said, surprised. She seemed genuine enough. He had to remind himself he had never really disliked her. It was simply a bad time and a bad day and her hand on Jayce’s arm.

Jayce took Viktor’s crutch from him after he sat and leaned it against the wall. When he settled again, he put his arm casually around the back of Viktor’s chair. Caitlyn watched it all with sharp eyes.

“Are you two dating?” Caitlyn asked bluntly.

“Dating?” Jayce said, as if testing out the word. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Viktor shrugged in agreement. he wasn’t offended. They hadn’t put a label on what they were and “dating” seemed too small a word.

“You’ve only known each other for two weeks.”

“Two and a half weeks.”

“You’re rushing into things.”

“Blunt as ever, Cait,” Jayce as wryly.

Caitlyn sighed. She glanced at Viktor then back at Jayce. Then sighed again.

“You’re happy, then?” she asked, voice softer, more serious now.

“Yes. Happier than I’ve been in a while,” Jayce said, moving his arm to Viktor’s shoulder now.

“Then I suppose I’d better get to know you, Viktor,” Caitlyn said. “Are you from Zaun?”

The conversation quickly became an interrogation. Caitlyn wanted to know his job, his family, his background. It was clear why she had chosen to become an enforcer. Viktor felt as if each answer he gave confirmed her suspicions about something. Eventually, Jayce managed to distract her with a question about some woman she’d been dating named Maddie who sounded awful and Viktor was blessedly freed from the spotlight.

“I think I owe you a bit of an apology,” Mel said, shifting forward so that he could hear her better while Jayce and Caitlyn laughed over some shared mishap from their youth.

“Hm?” Viktor said, smiling slightly at Jayce’s story.

“If I had known you two were together, I would have been less forward. He is a handsome man and…have you ever felt an instant connection with someone?” Mel continued, pulling his attention.

“Yes, him,” Viktor said bluntly.

“Sorry. That was also…I just feel as if I’ve known him for years,” Mel said softly to herself.

“He has that effect on people,” Viktor said softly and wondered how Mel figured in to things in all the other universes. “Did you really just come to meet Jayce and sneak into our lab?”

“Mostly, yes. Caitlyn mentioned he was back and I was curious what you two were doing. I put two and two together and I have an offer for you.”

Viktor frowned. Mel frowned briefly back, annoyed, before pressing on.

“Viktor, you are an intelligent man. You know how difficult things are likely to become if the wrong people get wind of whatever you, Jayce, and your proteges are doing. I only want to help,” Mel said.

“And reap the benefits of our work,” Viktor said, cutting the point.

“That too,” Mel said, unashamed. “I…I always admired you. Perhaps I should have invested in you all those years ago.”

“Tell me what you are offering in plain terms,” Viktor replied.

“My discretion, protection, and funding. In exchange, I will get first look at anything you create and share of your profits. A simple business deal.”

“I will have to discuss it with Jayce and the others.”

“I expect nothing less.”

Mel offered a hand. Viktor shook it. It felt like the edge of something. He was never sure if he could trust Mel Medarda, but for the moment at least, it seemed like a path forward. The Medarda name came with money and a prestige they’d have to work years to achieve on their own.

“What are you two talking about?” Jayce asked, putting his arm around Viktor’s chair.

“Business. I’ll tell you later,” Viktor said softly.

“V, we—"

He was interrupted by Silco’s arrival with their drinks and a tray with four bowls of what looked like some kind of stew, mushroom most likely. The kind of thing people in Zaun ate daily because it was filling, cheap, and easy to spice. Comfort food. It was the first thing Viktor felt had gone right.

“Having fun?” Silco asked Viktor in a soft, sarcastic voice as he set down the drinks.

“Obviously,” Viktor replied, just as sarcastic.

“You’re the leader of the Zaun delegation, aren’t you?” Mel interrupted eagerly. “We haven’t had a face-to-face yet. Mel Medarda.”

Mel offered an elegant hand. Silco did not take it. Mel let her hand drop and fixed Silco with a steely smile.

“I would like to discuss somethings regarding both our cities. Shall we put something on the books?” she continued.

“I’m a busy man,” Silco said.

“And I’ve a blessedly light schedule,” Mel said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

Silco smirked. He leaned back, crossing his arms, and glanced at the bar where Vander was watching him like a hawk. He gave a small shrug and Vander sighed, going back to work.

“Next week. Tuesday. Five o’clock, here if you don’t mind. I have children,” Silco said.

“Tuesday’s not good. Thursday at three?” Mel countered.

“Thursday at seven. Here.”

“Excellent. I look forward to chatting,” Mel said, offering her hand.

This time, Silco did shake it. Viktor felt his shoulders relax with a tension he didn’t know he was holding. Silco gave the table a look as if they were all somehow beneath him.

“Enjoy your food,” he said and it almost sounded like an insult.

“Lovely man,” Mel said flatly. “Now, Viktor, I understand you’re on a sabbatical?”

The rest of the lunch went smoothly. After some initial hesitancy, the Pilties dug into the stew and the conversation became light. General council and Academy gossip, a bit about their trip home, Jayce’s time in the little mountain time. Even so, next time Viktor would suggest dinner at their house, just the two of them and Caitlyn.

Viktor wished they had time to send word ahead, to warn Powder, Ekko, and Heimerdinger that Caitlyn and Mel especially were coming. Hopefully, everyone’s mood had improved after lunch. Hopefully, the visit would be quick.

When they arrived, he felt a wave of relief. The three of them were chatting happily while they ate lunch. There was nothing obviously new and the lab was more or less organized. It wouldn’t take long to explain the basics to Mel and Caitlyn and send them on their way. When they were gone, he’d explain Mel’s offer and suggest an early night for him and Jayce. Then he would tell him about his dream and Heimerdinger and hope for a better day tomorrow.

“My, what a colorful space,” Mel said, as she looked around.

“Um, hi?” Powder said, setting her food down with a clink.

Viktor glanced at her with a wince. Her eyes were narrowed suspiciously. She was nothing if not her father’s daughter. Ekko watched the group passively, Heimerdinger with a look of surprise. Vi, though, was staring at Caitlyn, her mouth slightly open, a complicated play of emotions across her face. She had mentioned knowing Caitlyn in her world. Surely it was jarring to see another version of her.

“Ah, this is your protégé, then?” Mel asked, gesturing towards Powder with a smile she did not meet.

“Yes. One of them. Ekko, the young man there, is the other. Then there’s Heimerdinger you know. And Vi. Neither proteges,” Viktor said, waving vaguely at them in quick introduction.

“Lovely to meet you all,” Mel said, earning silence from Powder and an awkward wave from Ekko. “I’m Councilor Medarda, but please call me Mel.”

Viktor watched as she sized them up and then turned, beaming, to Ekko. He looked desperately for help, but Powder was practically radiating dislike and Vi was still staring at Caitlyn. He stood, putting the remains of his lunch down.

“Nice to meet you too, councilor,” Ekko sighed.

“I would love to hear what you’ve been doing, if that’s no bother,” Mel said, politician’s smile firmly in place.

“None at all! Why, Miss Medarda, it is lovely to see you again. Sprockets, but it’s been a moment, now, where shall we begin? Jayce?” Heimerdinger said, taking Mel’s hand jovially and taking over.

Jayce winced. He looked to Viktor for help. Viktor nodded at Powder who was glaring. Jayce sighed, giving up.

“Yeah, sure. Come on, council—Mel. Sorry. Ekko and I can walk you through some of our latest breakthroughs,” Jayce said, smoothly guiding Mel and Ekko to the chalkboard, as Heimerdinger followed in their wake.

As soon as she could, Powder turned to him, her glare nearly enough to knock him from his feet.

“Coulda sent a head’s up about the councilor, Vik,” Powder said sharply.

“Apologies. I did not—”

“Cait?” Vi asked.

Caitlyn blinked at Vi, confused. She tilted her head slightly and made a small hum as if she were remembering something and then shook her head. Vi just stared, eyes growing wider, something painful coming over her face.

“I’m sorry, have we met?” Caitlyn asked.

“I guess not,” Vi said quietly, getting to her feet, offering a hand. “Vi.”

Caitlyn took it. For a moment, Viktor held his breath, half expecting some sort of recognition, like the one between him and Jayce, but nothing happened besides the touch lingering. He suddenly knew without a doubt that Vi had loved her Caitlyn. It was painfully obvious. He glanced at Jayce, explaining the hexcrystals to Mel with Ekko’s help, thankful again that he had his correct Jayce.

“Caitlyn Kiramman,” Caitlyn said, words coming soft and distant, as if she wasn’t quite sure what she was doing. “But don’t you call me cu—”

Vi dropped her hand as if burned and shoved it in her pocket.

“So. Here to pour some of that Piltie money into my genius little sister?” Vi asked, all fake ease.

“No. Jayce offered a tour. We’re old friends. Your sister is Powder? I…you…I’m sorry, this is…didn’t you…I heard Powder lost her sister,” Caitlyn stumbled out, strange thing between her and Vi forgotten.

“Found her,” Powder said, skating over the awkwardness and throwing an arm around Vi’s shoulders. “Turns out I’m really bad at looking for stuff.”

“I…see,” Caitlyn said, brow wrinkled, not remotely appeased. “And where does one find a dead sister?”

“Usual spot. The last place you looked,” Powder said.

Viktor could feel her hackles rising. The animosity between her and Caitlyn seemed ingrained now. He would have to ask Vi about it in her world. If he and Jayce loved each other in every universe, perhaps the opposite could exist as well.

“Powder,” he said, warning.

“She started it,” Powder said.

“Started what? I simply asked—”

Viktor looked across the lab, trying to catch Jayce’s eye and beg for help. He wasn’t paying attention. His hand was out, offering Mel a crystal. She touched it. There was a flash of bright blue light and Viktor felt the world move, an earthquake-like jolt under his feet. He felt sick and had to grasp the desk for support. Caitlyn was at his side in a moment, asking if he was all right and what had happened, but her voice sounded as if she were underwater. From somewhere far away, Powder let out a small shriek and ran towards the others. Vi watched, hovering somewhere between her and Caitlyn. Then she froze.

“What?” Vi breathed out.

Caitlyn straightened and gasped. Almost afraid to look, Viktor followed their gaze.  

There were two Ekkos, sprawled on the ground, eyes shut. The world suddenly came back into firmer focus. Caitlyn was supporting him now, as if she were afraid he would faint. Across the room, Jayce was helping Mel, whose face was ashen, into a chair. Powder was kneeling by the new Ekko, cradling his head in her lap. Vi was kneeling by the old, face twisted in a kind of sadness.

Heimerdinger kept looking between the two and then he stood still, looking up. He looked scared as he met Viktor’s gaze. His shoulders sagged and he nodded once, quickly. Viktor understood. Now, there was only Vi to convince.   

Chapter Text

When Ekko woke up, his head was swimming. Three people were talking at once. One was Powder, one was Viktor, and the third sounded like him. He groaned and sat up. A hand pressed him back down. Vi was kneeling next to him, a look of sisterly affection on her face.

“Woah, there, Little Man. Take it easy,” she said.

“What the hell happened?” he asked.

“I, um, there’s two of you,” Vi said, eyes darting to something behind him.

Ekko turned. Another Ekko stared back at him. Everyone was silent. The other Ekko’s eyes were wide. Powder had her hand on his shoulder. Bottle green suit, neat, longer dreads in a ponytail. This world’s Ekko, returned at last. He looked down at himself. A familiar white tank and green jacket looked back at him. His old clothes. He felt a weird sense of wrongness in the pit of his stomach, like he was a popcorn kernel stuck in the Universe’s tooth.

“What?” he breathed.

“I…hm. Ekko,” Viktor started. Both Ekkos looked at him and he flinched. “First Ekko? The…hm. We need to call them something different.”

“Who was first Ekko?” the other Ekko asked.

“Not…you,” Viktor said awkwardly.

“I was here first,” the other Ekko said, almost joking.

Ekko studied him again. Less serious, more studious. Easier smile. Now it seemed like there were a million little things that separated them. Jealousy reared in him. This was what he would have been if Benzo lived. If Jinx was still Powder.

“I suppose so. I…I have some medical training. Let me make sure nothing is wrong with either of you or…or Miss Medarda, and then, well, then I think I have some explaining to do,” Viktor said.

“Yeah, okay,” this world’s Ekko said.

“Fine,” the other Ekko said.

Councilor Medarda nodded faintly from her chair. Her face was still pale. Whatever had made them split had hit her too. There was a faint glow around her, the gold in the armor she wore on her shoulders shone a little brighter. She looked like she might throw up.

Viktor was a thorough if dispassionate doctor. He checked Ekko and his strange twin over. No obvious injury, no ill effects. He declared Councilor Medarda fine as well and she shot him a glare. She did not look fine. Caitlyn offered to get her a glass of water and Vi’s eyes followed her somewhere between hungry and melancholy. The other Ekko kept looking at Vi as if she were a ghost. The whole thing was so damn weird.

“Vi?” the other Ekko finally said.

“Yeah. That’s me,” Vi said in a lilting voice. “I’m not…her. Your Vi. Different universes and…Pow can explain it better.”

“I…okay. I…missed you,” other Ekko said, softer than Ekko had been since he was a kid.

“I know, Little Man,” Vi said with a smile and something weird twisted in Ekko’s chest.

“It’s a lot to take in, but I’m glad you’re back,” Powder said quietly, leaning her head against other Ekko’s shoulder. He smiled warmly and put an arm around her, the picture of peace.

Ekko shouldn’t be jealous. She was never his. His was Jinx and she was back home doing gods know what, innocence gone even if the genius and creativity remained. He looked at Vi, who was not looking at either of them. She had gone with Caitlyn to the kitchen, they heads bent together as Caitlyn poured a glass of water, laughing slightly.

Ekko frowned. She wasn’t her Caitlyn either. It was getting to fucked up, to jumbled. He wished he’d never come there.

“So. What now?” Vi asked after she helped Caitlyn bring exactly one glass of water to Mel Medarda.

“I…I have a theory,” Viktor said slowly, glancing at Heimerdinger who had been uncharacteristically quiet through the whole ordeal. “It is a little, eh, farfetched, but…but I think it holds merit. If I may?”

No one argued. Viktor began to speak. It was a farfetched story. An older, alternate version of himself visiting him in dreams. A destroyed world, hinted to be his doing, stated to be due to Hextech. A fracturing timeline, which meant multiple timelines and universe, but Ekko already understood that. The last part explained some stuff. The weird bond Jayce and Viktor had, the other Ekko, the way Cait kept looked at Vi almost like she knew her. It was not good, to put it lightly.

“I…there will need to be sacrifices made, but I think I know how to fix it,” Viktor said, voice slightly strained from talking.

“Sacrifices? Like what?” Vi asked sharply.

Viktor was quiet, guilty. He looked at Heimerdinger, who sighed and shook his head. Viktor made a disgruntled face and turned sharply away from the yordle.

“All things of this nature require…a balance. The Arcane is…living, I think. It will be anything harmful, just perhaps unwanted,” Viktor said, giving Heimerdinger another hard look.

It was a non-answer. Ekko saw through him. A high price or an awkward price then. He sat a little straighter.

“I’m almost there. We’ll have the anomaly soon,” he said.

“Anomaly?” the other Ekko asked. “What’s that?”

“Don’t strain yourself. It…it’s almost done. There’s too much to catch you up on,” Ekko said.

It was petulant, it was not like him. He just wanted a little more time with the rest of them, in this safe, happy world, before he had to admit he had never belonged. The other Ekko was an interloper.

“You think I’m stupid?” the other Ekko asked.

“No. We’re the same person,” Ekko said in a voice that very much hinted that he did think he was stupid.

“I’ll tell you later. It’s…he’s right. It’s a lot to take in,” Powder said before other Ekko could shot back, a peacemaker where his was an instigator.

Ekko looked away. He didn’t know how long he could put up with any of this before he went home.

The lab cleared out earlier than it ever had before. Other Ekko and Powder needed to explain everything Benzo, Silco, and Vander, Caitlyn and Councilor Medarda needed to go home. Vi offered to walk them, saying Zaun was dangerous. It wasn’t, not like theirs was. Caitlyn accepted the offer anyway, a faint blush on her cheeks. Between them, Powder and the other Ekko, and Jayce and Viktor, he was starting to feel like a seventh wheel.

It was a relief to have the lab back to just them, even if he missed Powder’s presence immediately. Jayce and Heimerdinger went straight to tinkering with the cage they’d created to house the anomaly while he looked at the chalkboard filled with theory, Viktor at his side. He could almost hear his brain whirring.

“If we work all night, I think we’ll have something,” Ekko said, taking up the chalk.

“I agree, but…there is something I have not told the rest,” Viktor said.

“The sacrifice?”

“Just so. I…Heimerdinger already knows, but Jayce…Jayce come here,” Viktor said, raising his voice slightly.

Jayce turned to Viktor like he was a flower and Viktor was the sun. Heimerdinger, in his wake. A caterpillar, Ekko thought, letting a small smile flicker across his face.

“What is it?” Jayce asked.

“The rest of my explanation. My older self said that the presence of Ekko, Vi, and Heimerdinger are tearing the timeline apart. They need to go home,” Viktor said bluntly.

“Fine. I was already planning on it,” Ekko said, relieved it wasn’t anything more.

“It is not you I am worried about,” Viktor said, looking pointedly at Heimerdinger. “Professor? What do you think now?”

“I…have seen the error of my ways,” Heimerdinger said softly, more penitent than Ekko had ever heard him. “I apologize for my behavior this morning, Viktor. After seeing what happened to Ekko, I believe that is, regrettably, the only option we have. I will miss this place terribly, though, and wish I did not have to leave.”

“Thank you, professor,” Viktor said shoulders dropping with relief and leaning a little heavier on his crutch. “That only leaves—"

“Vi,” Ekko sighed.

“Yes. Vi.”

“I’ll talk to her. She’s…we’re friends. She’s not…she doesn’t want to hurt anymore. She’ll listen. I think. I hope,” Ekko said.

“If not, then…” Viktor said trailing off.

“We’ll fix it. Don’t worry, V, we’ll find a way,” Jayce said, kissing his head briefly.

Viktor leaned into him a little. Ekko suddenly felt more alone than he had in years, since Powder left and everyone else had died.

“There’s…there’s something else. My Viktor. The one in my world,” Ekko said carefully.

Jayce lit up with curiosity. Viktor only looked mildly interested, apprehension growing on his face. He understood. Meeting one doppelganger was enough.

“I…when I met my Jayce, um, there was this…thing in the lab. A cocoon, maybe? I don’t know,” Ekko continued.

“Yes! The Hextech healing pod Jayce created for Viktor, but it was empty. What does—” Heimerdinger exclaimed, snapping his fingers as if he just remembered.

“It reminded me a little bit of your descriptions of the dead Piltover. I don’t know how, but I think they’re related,” Ekko said, not looking at Viktor or Jayce.

“Ah. Well,” Viktor said softly, disappointed.

“Goodness! I didn’t think of that. Hextech is a dangerous thing, my boys. The implications of it all…” Heimerdinger said, sounding more upset than anything else. Ekko didn’t ask for elaboration. It didn’t really matter.

“It’s okay. We’ll be safe. There’s no Hextech here,” Jayce said softly.

Viktor nodded bitterly. He sighed, shoulders slumping and Jayce put a hand on his back. Heimerdinger looked on, face going soft. For a moment, he looked very serious indeed, but it passed quickly. He clapped his hands once, loudly, startling all three of them.

“A night off! That’s just what we need,” Heimerdinger said. “Ekko, if you do not mind me saying so, you look like you need several good night’s sleep. Jayce and Viktor, you boys have your own things to consider, and I…I have a peace to make with what must come.”

“I agree. A night off,” Jayce said, putting his arms around a pouting Viktor who sighed and nodded like a petulant toddler.

Ekko shrugged. A night off seemed a waste of time, but moments later, Heimerdinger was padding out of the lab, Jayce and Viktor in his wake, arm in arm. For a moment, Ekko didn’t know what to do. His room at Benzo’s was no longer his if it ever had been. He didn’t want to ask Powder for a place to sleep and he knew Viktor didn’t have room.

Feeling wrung out and miserable, he collapsed onto the couch in Powder’s tent. It was too short, but it was soft at least. It wasn’t even dark out yet, barely passed four, but suddenly all Ekko wanted to do was sleep until everything worked itself out and he could go home. He let his eyes close and drifted into a dull, dark sleep.

He woke some hours later feeling like he had barely slept at all. His other self was sitting on the floor, looking at the Vi shrine. It was weird. He still hated looking at him. It gave him a deep sense of wrongness somewhere around his bellybutton that was hard to reconcile. Reality was splitting, Viktor said. Looking at his other self, he could feel it.

“Hey,” the other Ekko said quietly.

“Hey,” Ekko replied. “What are you doing here?”

“Benzo wanted…he was asking about you. Family dinner night.”

“Oh. That,” Ekko said quietly.

A tradition. They left the Last Drop to Sevika (she had both arms in this world, was nicer to him, and still tough as nails) for a few hours. They took turns cooking dinner while the rest of them relaxed and caught up. It was a good tradition. It was also Mylo’s night to cook dinner and, the Ekko’s eternal surprise, he was the best of the bunch. He’d been looking forward to it that morning. Now he felt wrong, out of place.

“He wants you there. We explained it,” the other Ekko said.

“And you? Pow?” Ekko asked, defensive.

“Look, man. This is all…weird? I don’t know. You’re kind of a dick.”

Ekko didn’t argue.

“But Powder says you’re okay. And that…you didn’t…when I was gone, when you were pretending to be me, you didn’t press anything,” the other Ekko said, not looking at him.

“We kissed,” Ekko admitted.

“Yeah, but…you didn’t push her, and you took your time. And the kissing…I think I’d have done the same in your shoes.”

Ekko laughed bitterly. Jinx would eat this version of him, soft and sincere, alive. Maybe it was good he had come to this world and not the other way around.

“What?” the other Ekko asked defensively.

“Nothing. Just my…my Powder isn’t as nice as yours. She’s…she’s not really Powder anymore,” Ekko said.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s not…that’s not the worst part of it, where I’m from. She’s not Powder, but she’s alive. Benzo’s not. Vander, Mylo, and Claggor either. Or Silco,” Ekko added. An after thought.

The other Ekko was silent. Ekko felt like he’d told a secret, even though it wasn’t, not really. Common knowledge where he was from, the fucked-up world.

“Vi is though,” the other Ekko said quietly.

“Yeah. She is,” Ekko said sadly.

“How’d they…what happened?”

“Silco’s not so nice in my world,” Ekko said bitterly.

“You said he was dead.”

“Remember what I said about my Powder?”

“Oh. I can’t imagine her—” Ekko started and stopped, shaking his head. “The Silco thing is less surprising, honestly. I know he and Vander had…problems. Back in the day. I kinda think Benzo still thinks Vander’s too good for him.”

“That’s probably true,” Ekko said, mouth curving up despite himself. The other him returned the almost smile.

“Yeah, well. You coming?”

“You serious?”

“Yeah. I don’t…know what this is. Us. But I know I don’t like it. Makes me feel wrong, but Powder and Benzo and Vi definitely want you there. So…you coming?”

It only took Ekko a moment to nod and get to his feet. The other Ekko started to offer him a hand, habit probably, but took it back at the last minute. Ekko wouldn’t have taken it anyway. It seemed like something bad would happen if they touched.

Dinner was awkward and dinner was nice. The other Ekko fit back in seamlessly, as if he had never been gone. He could see a glimpse into how things normally were. Silco, Vander, and Benzo bantering about life before the peace between the cities, Powder, Mylo, and Claggor talking over each other and teasing and how he had always remembered them, the other Ekko caught up in the middle of it. He was quieter than the others, but easy with them, settling Mylo and Claggor’s debates, nodding along to Benzo’s stories, putting an arm around Powder. At some point, it was too much. Ekko excused himself, the first thing he’d said in at least fifteen minutes, and went out into the strangely peaceful streets. A moment later, Vi was standing next to him.

“You okay?” she said, all affection and concern.

“Not really,” he sighed. “But I don’t think there’s anything I can do about it.”

“Yeah, I...I know the feeling,” Vi said quietly, settling against the wall with a sigh.

“This isn’t our world. We don’t…we have to go home,” Ekko said gently, setting next to her.

Vi closed her eyes for a second. He thought she might cry and realized he hadn’t seen her cry before. Maybe once, when they were kids, she’d come close. He felt like a little boy again with no idea what to do.

“I know,” Vi finally said, voice barely above a whisper. “I assume you and the rest of the big brains have figured out how?”

“Yeah,” he said, starting to regret it.

“How long?”

“No long. A few days, maybe.”

“Can you give me a week to say goodbye?”

Ekko nodded. A week was not so bad. They could survive. The world Viktor had seen was still far away. Standing on the peaceful street in the middle of the Lanes well after dark, his own felt just as far.

“Thanks,” Vi said and let out a very long sigh. “Everything back home sucks.”

“I know,” Ekko said with a small laugh.

“No. It’s not just… Vander and Mylo and Claggor and…and Pow. It’s…I fucked up. Cait and I broke up. She…she’s not who I thought she was. And…gods, Ekko, I joined the enforcers. I let…I’m not better than them. Than her,” Vi said, haltingly. A confession.

“You…” Ekko trailed off, not knowing what to say. It was too much to take in.

“I quit. I…I’m not good right now, okay? I won’t be better when I get back. Worse, probably. I was already trying to…I don’t know. Punch it all away? Drink myself to death? Its so much easier here,” Vi said.

“You quit?” Ekko asked, focusing on what he could handle.

“Yeah. I quit. I never wanted it in the first place, but Jinx is…she’s my responsibility. And she’s…I just want something to go right.”

“I know the feeling. The tree, the one in the Firelight sanctuary, is dying. I’m not…I’m here. Scar can handle it, but I need to go back. Besides, you fit in here. I don’t.”

Vi put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. Ekko didn’t move, staring up into the sky with wet eyes. He could give Vi a week. He couldn’t give her any longer without breaking into a million pieces.

When his eyes were dry and Vi was ready, they went back in. Dinner had been cleared. His other self was gone, only Powder, Vander, and Silco left. Vi’s face went hard when she saw Silco. He politely ignored her. Maybe it was better she was going before the tension between them had time to break.

“You can stay the night here, lad,” Vander said, giving Ekko a kind smile.

“Thanks, but I can just sleep at the lab,” Ekko replied.

Everyone exchanged a kind of concerned look at that. Ekko let out a small chuckle. He would miss them.

“Really, it’s not problem. I want to get an early start tomorrow anyway,” he added.

“If you insist,” Silco said carefully.

“I do.”

“I’ll walk you back,” Powder said, getting to her feet.

“Powd—”

“I’m going. Don’t argue,” she said and Ekko’s heart twisted.

As soon as they were outside, Powder took his arm and started talking at a breakneck speed, not letting him get a word in edgewise.

“Ekko, my Ekko, told me what you told him about my dads and that is kind of a fucked-up thing to keep from me but I kinda get it and it explains some stuff. I’m not telling Silco. He’d…he wouldn’t take it well. Your world sounds awful. I…don’t tell me what I’m like there, okay? And you don’t have to go back. We’ll lie. Say you’re Ekko’s twin brother. Long lost or something. That kind of thing happens, right? You can choose a new name. That sounds fun. Start over. Stay here. We can work together, me, you, Ekko, Jayce and Viktor. Don’t…don’t go.”

“I have to,” Ekko said simply.

“Why? Don’t do some stupid self-sacrificing—”

“I’m what’s screwing up the timelines. Me, Heimerdinger, and—”

“And Vi,” Powder interrupted, speaking like it was a death sentence.

“Yeah. I’m sorry, Pow.”

“Does she know?”

“Just found out.”

“How long?”

“A week, maybe a little more.”

Powder nodded and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, smearing her makeup just a little.

“Hey, it’ll be okay,” Ekko said. “You have your family and your…me and—”

“Fuck you, Ekko. I won’t have my sister,” Powder said, voice harsh and clogged with tears.

“I didn’t—”

“I dreamed about her coming back for so long and she did and now I get her for what? Two weeks? I can’t…I don’t…why are you doing this?”

Ekko pulled her into a hug. She had sounded like Jinx then. Powder collapsed against him, crying into his jacket. She wasn’t his. His was back home, probably working on some new way to blow up everything. His was alone.

“I’m sorry,” Powder said, letting him go when she got ahold of herself. “I didn’t mean to…I understand. I hate it, but I understand.”

“It’s fine,” Ekko said. “And I…I won’t tell you about her, my you, back home, but…but I think she probably needs me.”

“She does. I need my Ekko and my world is peachy keen,” Powder said with a hint of humor. The quick switch was another thing that reminded him of Jinx.

“She needs Vi too,” Ekko said carefully.

“Vi said she was gone.”

“She’s not, not…not really. Not…you didn’t want to hear about her.”

“I know. Just tell me…something. Anything. A little hint, but she hasn’t—”

“She’s smart, like you. Funny too. Weird sense of humor, but…she lost Vi the same time you did. The rest too, except Silco, and things went bad,” Ekko said.

“What else? Something nice,” Powder said.

“She…she draws. She doesn’t want…she’s still in there. Vi’s wrong.”

Powder nodded like she understood. She took Ekko’s arm again, as if they were old friends. In another world, they were.

“You can still come stay the night, you know. Just say you changed your mind,” she said lightly.

Ekko paused. The lab was empty, quiet, not a true place to sleep. His head ached with exhaustion. A couch in a house sounded nice. Soft blankets, warm breakfast, Vi and Powder and everyone else close by.

“Come on, don’t do that stupid stubborn man thing,” Powder said, dropping her voice two octaves at the end.

“Yeah, okay,” Ekko laughed.

“Good choice,” Powder said with a smile, swinging them around so that they were going back the way they came. “Just…don’t tell anyone else. About leaving. Not yet.”

“I won’t,” Ekko promised.

“Good. See? Still need you.”

It was nice, sleeping on the couch. He could hear the creak of doors and footsteps above him as the rest of the family settled in. No one had said anything when he returned. Vander got him a blanket and a few pillows and told him to just ask if he wanted anything else. He slept like the dead and woke up to sunlight and the smell of fresh coffee. In the morning, he felt better. He was going, it would be hard, but it was the right thing to do. He had to talk to Jinx again. He shouldn’t have given up on her. He’d known that for years now.

He, Vi, and Powder walked to the lab together. The other Ekko would join them later. Ekko had a feeling Powder had asked him to give them some space. Or he was still reeling from coming into a fairly intense situation he knew nothing about.

“Hey, Ekko, can you give me and Pow a minute?” Vi said as they reached the lab.

“Yeah, okay,” Ekko said, already pulling away.

Powder grabbed his arm, shaking her head. He stopped. Vi looked between them and then frowned. Powder shrugged. A silent conversation between the sisters.

“Ekko told you,” Vi said.

“Yeah,” Powder replied. “Last night.”

“I…sorry,” Ekko said.

“Don’t be,” Powder said before Vi could snap at him. “I…a week, right?”

“A week.”

“We’ll have to make the most of it, okay? Do…sister stuff. Paint nails, sleepovers, you can braid my hair and give me life advice and yell at me for touching your stuff and—”

Powder was crying as Vi pulled her into a hug. Ekko stood back, watching them for a moment before turning back towards the lab to give them some privacy. Vi reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him awkwardly into the hug. For a moment, they all held each other, the misery of their parting washing over them.

Jayce and Viktor were already in the lab. The mood was strange, tense. Despite the heat, Viktor wore a high-necked shirt and gloves. His hair had been arranged so that it hid the sides of his face. Jayce was next to him, arm around him as if he were afraid to let go. Viktor was leaning against him, eyes closed, as if sleeping. When the door to the lab closed, Viktor startled awake, and Jayce made a soothing noise. He seemed to be leaning less heavily on his crutch than usual.

“You okay?” Ekko asked.

“Yes, fine. Just…tired,” Jayce replied as Viktor turned back to the chalkboard. It was an obvious lie.

“Uh-huh. You sure—”

“We had a breakthrough. You remember when Ekko…split?” Jayce said, cutting him off.

“Yeah, vividly” Powder said flatly.

“We think that Councilor Medarda had…something on her that channeled the Arcane and that caused…a reaction. We think that if we can harness it, then—”

“We can go home,” Ekko said, feeling suddenly overwhelmed.

“Yeah, but—”

“We could come back?” Vi asked, hope evident in her voice.

“I, um, it’s—” Jayce started and shrugged. “It’s dangerous.”

“But possible,” Ekko added.

“I don’t…”

Jayce looked at Viktor desperately, who only shrugged. He had been strangely silent all morning, eyes far away, distracted. Ekko had been willing to chalk it up to a bad night’s sleep, but there seemed to be more to it.

“We need to talk to Mel first. See if…see if we’re even right,” Jayce finished.

“Okay, so let’s go do that. Better than standing around here and…talking yourself in circles or whatever it is you do,” Vi teased, suddenly in good spirits.

“Yeah, sure, but what about Heimerdinger?” Jayce asked.

“He’s weird about magic, right? And my Ekko will be here soon. He can babysit the furball, get caught up, while we go to a fancy-ass Piltie house,” Powder said with a grin.

Viktor let out a huff of a laugh, the first noise he’d made all morning. He raised his hand as if to run a hand through his hair, but stopped, lowering it slowly. There had been a flash of purple at his wrist where the sleeve had ridden up. It looked unnatural.

When Viktor saw him looking, he frowned and tugged his sleeve down. Before Ekko could ask anything else, Powder had taken him and Vi by the arm and was sweeping them from the lab. He looked back, over his shoulder, at Jayce and Viktor. Jayce was leaning in, asking something with an imploring tone. When Viktor responded, Ekko could have sworn there was a strange, metallic tinge to his voice.

Chapter Text

A night off was a rare thing. In the past, Viktor would have refused it. He had to work, to prove something to someone so he didn’t die without a trace. Then, when the reality of his life set in, there was simply no reason for it. Before Jayce, Powder, Ekko, and the rest he had no real friends besides Sky. They did meet after work for the occasional drink at the an Academy bar or, when they were homesick, a bite to eat in Zaun. Now, however, he met the idea with something like anticipation.

 “We should go out tonight,” Jayce asked with a grin, once they were alone in the lab.

“Out?” Viktor responded, frowning slightly. “Where?”

“I don’ t know, just, um, a date,” Jayce said, suddenly bashful.

“Oh,” Viktor said, laughing slightly at his own obliviousness and taking Jayce’s arm. “Yes, then. What shall we do?”

“I don’t—wait. You go home. I have to check on…I have an idea,” Jayce said, kissing his temple and dropping his arm, hurrying from the lab.

“Where are you going?” Viktor called after him, laughing slightly.

“It’s a surprise!” Jayce yelled back, throwing a smile over his shoulder before he left the lab entirely.

Viktor found he was nervous. He had been on dates before, but they were few and far between. Something usually bland and uninteresting. Drinks at a bar. Coffee. A man telling him about whatever pseudointellectual opinions he held while Viktor picked at his napkin, already bored. Jayce would be different. He hoped he would be different. If he wasn’t different, it would be a disappointment. He pushed those thoughts away, showered, and chose new clothes. Something nicer than usual. A maroon shirt and dark grey vest, no cravat, let his top two buttons stay loose. Someone had told him once he looked good in dark colors. Studying himself in the mirror, he hoped it was true.

Jayce knocked on the door of his apartment an hour later. He was smiling. There was a small, gold box tucked under his arm. He bent down and kissed Viktor quickly.

“Hey. I got you something,” Jayce said quietly, mouth still mere inches from Viktor’s.

“Hm?” Viktor suggested, not really caring what it was.

“Yeah. Here,” Jayce said leaning back and offering Viktor the golden box.

Jayce watched as a smile bloomed across Viktor’s face. Chocolates.

“I know you like sweets, so—”

Viktor kissed him a little more solidly this time.

“Thank you, Jayce,” he said softly.

“You’re welcome. I…give me five minutes. I just want to freshed up. Eat your chocolates.”

Viktor took a seat on the couch and did just that. Jayce appeared ten minutes later, hair brushed, and beard trimmed. He was wearing a dark, short sleeved button up. For a moment, Viktor was silent. He had always been a handsome man, Viktor had always known that, but for a moment it overwhelmed him. Viktor put the chocolates aside and went to Jayce, pulling him into a passionate kiss that threatened to derail whatever plans Jayce had made.

“We could just stay here,” Viktor suggested breathlessly when they broke apart.

“No. We have plans,” Jayce muttered against his mouth, kissed him again, and took a step back, holding out his hand for Viktor’s. “Let’s go.”

Viktor let Jayce lead him through the familiar streets of Piltover, past the Academy, to one of the wealthier districts, and finally to the large botanical garden. Viktor smiled. He had been before. When he was younger, he often came to think. Then, after he became friends with Sky, she insisted they go so she could show him some of her favorite plants. In retrospect, it should have been obvious she had feelings for him.

“I…I went on a grand total of five dates the entire time I lived in Piltover,” Jayce said as they strolled through the gates.

“Five? Is that all?” Viktor asked.

“Yeah, I was a bit of a…I was distracted by Hextech. But most of them were to student bars and…kind of boring,” Jayce said with a grimace.

“Ah. Yes. I am familiar,” Viktor said, mirroring Jayce’s grimace.  

“But when I was nineteen, a girl took me here. Best date I ever had,” Jayce continued.

“And now you are taking me?” Viktor asked.

“Yeah. It’ll be better with you.”

It was too sweet. Viktor rolled his eyes but lifted their still joined hands to his lips. He didn’t mind. Jayce was right. He liked sweet things.

They spent a few hours there. It was a warm day. People were out, couples, families, small groups of teenagers. The gardens had a sort of excited energy to them Viktor found invigorating rather than annoying. But perhaps that was just Jayce.

Viktor pointed out the exotic plants Sky so loved, Jayce pointed out the tree where the girl who had taken him kissed him. It had been his first. Viktor kissed him again under its bows as butterflies circled their heads. They sat by the pond near the center and talked. Jayce brought an old journal, mostly for sketching now, and drew flowers and trees and Viktor. Viktor watching the ducks in the pond, Viktor smiling as he basked in the sun, Viktor’s face dappled in the shade of a tree, resting in Jayce’s lap. By the end of it, when the sun was setting and the night’s chill starting to creep in, he was certain it was the best date he had ever had. Jayce did not disappoint him, not in the least.

“What now?” Viktor asked as they made their way back to his apartment.

“Dinner?” Jayce suggested. “We could try that new café around the corner.”

“Eh, it looks good,” Viktor said with a shrug.

It was good. Piltover cuisine but not too fussy. They ordered wine with dinner and dessert, and, by the time they were done, night had truly fallen. Neither were drunk, but perhaps a little tipsy, when they finally went back to Viktor’s apartment. They fell into each other’s arms as soon as the door closed behind them. Jayce half carried him to bed. Viktor allowed it and wondered if Jayce knew how rare that was. They undressed slowly and took their time with each other. A perfect night, Viktor thought as he lay with his head on Jayce’s chest, still damp with sweat.

“Good date?” Jayce asked, his voice a low rumble Viktor could feel against his ear.

“You set a high standard for yourself,” Viktor replied.

Jayce laughed. Another rumble in his chest. Viktor nuzzled into it. It was not very late, but exhaustion was already overtaking him. Jayce sighed and shifted, wrapping an arm around Viktor. He kissed him on his closed eyelids, soft as a butterfly’s wings.

“I love you,” Jayce said.

“I love you too,” Viktor muttered and was soon asleep.

Viktor woke up a few hours later. Jayce was still sleeping peacefully, breath even and warm, arm still wrapped around him. For a moment, he watched him. His skin was still gold in the darkness, face serene and beautiful. Viktor reached out to touch his cheek and as he did, inspiration struck.

Mel had touched the gemstone before Ekko split. He had noted it but written it off as coincidence. Now he was not so sure. The councilor was not a mage, he was certain, but she was from Noxus. They were more progressive about their magic there. She must have had something on her to cause such a reaction, a piece of jewelry imbued with magic, a small subtle spell, anything. Whatever had split Ekko was undoubtably strong, volatile even when introduced to Hextech, but it could be harnessed. It might mean that no one had to say goodbye. It might mean that he would leave an impression on the world after all.

Viktor shot out of bed, mind whirring. Jayce slept like the dead. He only stirred for a moment, grunting and shifting to account for Viktor’s absence, before falling back into a deep sleep. For a brief moment Viktor paused. He tucked a bit of hair behind Jayce’s ear with a soft smile. He would tell him when he woke. They could put their finishing touches on it and present it to the group. It was revolutionary. They could take Powder under their wing. Give her a legacy to leave, her name alongside theirs.

In the living room, Viktor lit the dim lamp on his desk and dug around for an empty notebook. He needed to put his thoughts on paper, organize them, do what he could away from the lab and Mel before he told anyone else. His hand flew across the paper, handwriting barely legible. He felt like a man possessed. He wasn’t sure how long he had been writing when he felt a slight prickle, like someone watching him. Jayce, he thought with a small smile. They were linked. Surely he had felt the same strike of inspiration. He raised his head to find his older self staring around at him, brow wrinkled.

“I am dreaming,” Viktor said to himself quietly.

“Don’t be so sure. This shouldn’t be possible,” his older self said softly, looking around the apartment with a mix of bitter nostalgia and longing.

Viktor stood and took a few faltering steps towards him. In his rush, he had left his crutch leaning against the wall. He would regret that in the morning. The backs of chairs and his wall were poor substitutes.

“Are you here?” Viktor asked.

“Not quite. Is he in there?” his older self asked, nodding towards the open bedroom door.

“Jayce?”

“Yes,” his older self said with a hint of longing.

Viktor nodded. His older self sighed wistfully and turned away. He reached towards the small boat on the bookshelf but took his hand back at the last minute.

“I had forgotten nearly all of this,” he said quietly.

“I think I have a solution, for, well, not quite everything, but how to keep the universe from splitting and not…have to lose everyone,” Viktor said quickly, impatient with his older self’s nostalgia.

“There isn’t one,” his older self said harshly, attention fully back on him.

“Yes, I thought so too, but I think when natural magic interacts with Hextech—”

“No.”

“It is unstable, yes, but we can—”

“We have tried it before. The fourth or fifth attempt. It failed, or do you not remember the ruined city?” his older self said in a tone Viktor had only heard coming from his own mouth. He didn’t shrink back.

“It will be better this time,” he said firmly.

“It will not. All paths lead to the same place. I was a fool for not realizing it sooner. You need to stop this…this thing you are doing. Go back to bed, back to Jayce, and forget it. You don’t understand how lucky you are.”

Viktor nearly laughed. He apparently turned into Heimerdinger when he got older, overly cautious, unaware of the constraints of his own lifespan. This version of him looked to be thirty years or so older than he was now. He wondered if that was how he would look when he died, old disease finally eating him whole.

“No, you don’t—” Viktor said, reaching for his shoulder, to shake some sense into him.

The moment he touched him, he felt the tear in the timeline seeping through his fingers into his very core. He could see it all. Bright blue lights. Blood on handkerchiefs. Blood on his hands. Blood on the floor around him. Jayce by his bed with a million different expressions: sobbing, dry eyed, kissing his brow, only looking at him with wide, sad eyes, trembling. Death. Life. Jayce killing him. Jayce killing him. Jayce killing him. Jayce killing him again and again and again. Him fighting Jayce. Him killing Jayce again and again and again. Him taking Jayce into the warm bosom of his own divine being and twisting him until they were the same. The same ending. Death everywhere. His voice in his own head, but not really him. The other versions of him. His older self’s calm, stern one drowned out by ones shrieking with anger, sadness, speaking in joyless monotones. He felt his body seize as he fell. Before it all went black, he could only think of Jayce.

When he opened his eyes, Jayce was bending over him, terrified and loving. One of his faces at his hospital bed except that hadn’t happened. One of his faces before he killed him, except that hadn’t happened either. Viktor pushed him away involuntarily, eyes wide, panic setting in.

“V--Viktor, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—What—” Jayce said, his voice no less terrified, pulling back as if burned.

Viktor tried to feel his surely racing heart. He couldn’t feel anything.

“What happened?” he asked. His voice was strange, metallic.

“You screamed. You…”

Jayce’s eyes scanned down his body, face pale. Viktor tipped his chin to look. An impression of purple, of gold before Jayce forced him to look up, at him.

“Don’t…you changed. You’re not…you’re body looks…” Jayce said very carefully. “Just…just make sure you’re ready.”

Viktor took a breath. It felt strange, like it was unnecessary. He couldn’t feel anything. Not the warmth of the night or Jayce’s hand on his waist, only it’s weight. And not, for the first time since he was a child, the pain in his leg. He looked down.

Purple metal tendons flecked with gold twisted where his pale flesh had been. He looked like he was made of metal, a fusion of the organic and synthetic. It was beautiful and it was terrifying. He sat up quickly. It occurred to him that he should have been more afraid, but something was telling him that he was always meant to be this. It sounded like a million different versions of his voice speaking at once with every emotion imaginable. He touched his cheek. It gave Soft flesh stretched over his cheek bone. He looked at Jayce again, eyes wide.

“It’s okay,” Jayce said softly, opening his arms, expecting Viktor to bury himself in them.

Viktor did not. He got to his feet. He walked, unaided, to the bathroom and laughed slightly when he realized what he had done. Jayce had followed him, calling his name in a soft, scared, questioning voice. Viktor stared at himself in the mirror. His face was still as it had been with a few opalescent tendrils growing along the sides. From beneath thick brows, his eyes gazed back at him, gold suddenly more obvious against his changed flesh.

“Viktor?” Jayce said again, setting a hand on his shoulder.

“I can’t feel you,” Viktor said, looking at Jayce’s face in the mirror. Devastation passed over it, a storm cloud. “I can’t feel anything. Heat, my own heart, pain. I…you found me like this?”

“I heard you scream. I…I don’t know what happened,” Jayce said, wrapping an arm around his waist, pulling him close. His beard tickled Viktor’s cheek as he rested his head on his shoulder. Viktor smiled at the sensation.

“I saw my older self, but in my waking life. We argued. When I touched him—”

His own voice from within his head shouted theories. Viktor winced. It was too loud. Jayce straightened, turning him gently to face him, eyes wide with concern. He was saying something, but Viktor couldn’t hear it. The noise in his head was too much.

“It does not matter. This is how I was always meant to be, metal stronger than flesh,” a voice that was his but not his own said using his mouth.

Silence fell after that.

“V?” Jayce asked, peering into his eyes.

“I…I’m sorry, I don’t know—”

“Your eyes changed color. Iridescent. Are you—”

“I don’t feel bad,” Viktor said slowly. “But I…I feel like…do you remember? When we first kissed?”

Jayce nodded. Viktor paused. It was like that, but instead of watching it all unfold in front of him, it felt like every Viktor that had ever been had taken up residence in his skull. He opened his mouth to explain but found it impossible. He shook his head and leaned against Jayce’s chest, holding him close. He could only feel the solidness of his body, nothing else.

“They all…the older you, he said the timelines were breaking, right?” Jayce said and Viktor could still feel the rumble of his voice under his ear. “This is part of that. Your body, the…what happened just now…it’s the other Viktors, isn’t it?”

“I think so. I can…they’re all talking at once,” Viktor said.

Jayce kissed his head. The constant murmur in his head subsided for a moment into a contented sigh. Viktor always loved Jayce. That was true for all of them, even the ones he felt boiling with anger at the sight of him.

“We’ll figure it out,” Jayce said quietly. “We’ll fix it.”

“I have a theory, about Hextech and the natural Arcane,” Viktor said, still holding onto Jayce. “I think Miss Medarda was wearing an artifact and it interacted with the hexcrystal, which caused Ekko to split. If that is the case—”

“Viktor, no,” Jayce said, pulling back.

At least half the Viktors screamed in rage, justified. Viktor ignored them.

“What do you mean?” he said instead, voice even and oddly emotionless.

“It’s dangerous. Just a bad reaction from a crystal killed…killed a kid. Vi. If we add natural magic into the equation, we’ll destroy half of Piltover. All of Piltover, probably.”

“We won’t. You have help now. Powder, Heimerdinger, two Ekkos, me. Jayce, this is revolutionary! Can you imagine—”

“Fracturing the timeline even more? Yeah. Look what happened when you just touched your other self! Viktor—”

“An unfortunately side effect, but I am fine—”

“Fine?! V, you—”

“And what if we need a process to reverse it? I…I am fine, Jayce, but I…there is too much in my head and I cannot…I am cold.”

“I’ll get you a blan—”

“No, it won’t…I cannot feel you. The warmth of your skin, your touch except for…a slight pressure. It is…I do not wish to…do you understand?” Viktor said, pleading now.

“You can’t…V, we’ll fix it. I promise. Whatever it takes,” Jayce said, kissing his forehead, fight gone.

“Then we have work to do,” Viktor sighed, leaning into the kiss.

“Okay. Let’s go to the lab,” Jayce said, kissing him once more and letting him go.

Viktor paused. He looked at himself in the mirror, one last time. Inhuman was the right word for it. It should have scared him. It did not. He wasn’t lying to Jayce, only stretching the truth. The other Viktors were overwhelming, the loss of Jayce’s touch was devastating, but the transformation did not repulse him, not in the slightest.

Beautiful. Perfect. Incomplete. The other versions of his whispered in his head.

Viktor hid the odd purple flesh as best he could. It was too hot for the turtleneck and gloves, but it was better than the alternative. The marks around his face were harder to conceal. He and Jayce managed to brush his hair in just the right way so that most of it was hidden. The sky was still dark by the time they reached the lab, but the first morning birds were beginning to wake. Together, they spun theories, came up with new equations, discredited everything, and started over.

Viktor was feeling a bit manic by the time Powder, Ekko, and Vi entered the lab. It was a relief not to see the other Ekko. His own other versions had been whispering in his head all night, a steady murmur he couldn’t quite make out. Facing another set of duplicates was daunting.

He listened in silence as Jayce filled them in, fiddling with the cuff of his shirt when he felt Ekko’s eyes on his wrist. If he saw anything, he kept it to himself. All three were eager to see Mel. They set out as day was still dawning, dodging the morning commuters and ignoring the tantalizing smell of coffee and pastries coming from cafes and bakeries.

One of his other voices floated to the surface as he passed a shop with cherry danishes in the window, begging for one. Viktor ignored him by reaching for Jayce’s arm. The other versions of him seemed calmest when Jayce was near, when they were touching. It made a certain amount of sense. He wished he could speak to them individually, see what had happened to them, to Jayce, in all their worlds.

They reached the Medarda estate and were granted entry with little trouble. Mel’s assistant led them to a lovely entryway, all white and gold minimalism with a large painting of ships in a harbor hanging on the wall. The painting seemed out of place, a burst of emotion in a sterile environment. Viktor examined it, waiting. Distantly, he could hear the others. Powder and Vi gently mocking the estate’s grandeur, Ekko quietly questioning Jayce about their new theory. He felt separate, cold without feeling cold. The crutch under his arm, a ruse, irked him. He could walk now. Whatever had happened to him was not a simple curse.

“I’m sorry, she’s not taking visitors today,” Mel’s assistant said in clipped tones when she returned, face stern and closed.

“It’s an emergency. Please, we’ll be quick, we just have some questions—” Jayce started.

“She’s quite ill. I’m sorry,” the assistant said.

“Will you tell her it’s about what happened in the lab yesterday?” Viktor said, metallic lilt still coloring his voice.

He felt Vi, Ekko, and Powder’s stare. It was the first thing he’d said all morning. He had his theories, but there was also a mounting instinct that there was more to Mel Medarda than met the eye. Several versions of him seemed to think so too.

“I…she’s not feeling well,” the assistant said.

“Just relay the message. Please. And then we will be on our way,” Viktor said, trying for charm but finding impatience.

The assistant gave him a cutting glance before nodding once and leaving the room again.

“Thought you’d gone silent, Vik,” Powder said.

Viktor shrugged. Powder rolled her eyes. He didn’t feel much like talking, not until they were all on the same page. He should have shown them his strange purple flesh in the lab, but that would have opened the floor to a million questions, and he was fairly certain that they didn’t have time.

The assistant appeared a moment later, face unreadable except for a faint line of concern between her eyes.

“She will see you. Right this way,” she said, turning and leading them through the penthouse.

Viktor barely paid attention to the elegant rooms, mind focused and singular. If he was right, they would have a fix for his condition and a working portal within the month. If he were lucky, perhaps he’d keep his leg.

They came to a stop in front of a large set of double doors. The assistant opened them and nodded towards the room.

“She is in there. She’s…do be careful,” the assistant said, professionalism cracking for the first time.

Viktor went in first. It was a studio. Paintings like the one in the foyer sat on easels. Mel’s work. A curiosity. He never knew she was artistic. Gold splattered across many of them, as if someone had gone into a fit of rage. There was gold on the floor as well, but it looked more purposeful, more practiced. Standing at the epicenter was Mel. She looked more undone than Viktor had ever seen her. Her hair was slipping from its usual tight coif, and she was wearing a loose dress that seemed to be more fit for lounging than receiving visitors. Most striking of all were the gold marks decorating her body as if she two had been victim to whatever outburst had caused the gold paint to spread across the room.

Except Viktor knew better. It was not paint. It was something intrinsic. The other versions of him screamed out warnings as he approached, footsteps sure, letting his crutch fall. Mel’s eyes widened in surprise and them grim knowledge.

“You were changed too?” she asked.

“Eh, you could say that,” he replied as he pulled off a glove and rolled up his sleeve, revealing twists of dark purple and the gold of his knuckles.

Mel strode forward, hesitating only a moment before touching his hand. He barely felt the weight of her fingers. She pulled her hand back, curious.

“Well. Perhaps we should discuss. Would anyone like anything? Coffee? Tea?” she asked, facing the group, the perfect hostess.

They were met with dumbfounded silence. Powder, Ekko, and Vi’s stares felt heavier on his flesh than Mel’s light touch had.

Chapter Text

Mel agreed to come to the lab before they asked. She was as anxious for answers as Viktor was and led them to her elegant breakfast room (a ridiculous notion) where a tray of coffee, tea, juice, and fruit was already laid for them. Viktor fought an eyeroll. He knew Mel was wealthy, but everything with her seemed excessive.

There was a long silence as the others took their refreshments. Viktor stared at all of it. He still wasn’t hugry. He wasn’t even thirsty, though he took a delicate cup of coffee and sweetened it as he usually would to keep Jayce from worrying. Usually, a caffeine headache would be pounding at his temples by now, but all he felt was nothing. Jayce still cast a worried look at his empty plate.

“So…purple hand?” Powder said, breaking the drawn-out silence.

“Purple everything,” Viktor replied with a shrug.

“Why?”

“Ah. Yes. I…I touched my older self. He came to visit last night,” Viktor said.

Ekko nearly spit out his coffee. He coughed. Vi hit him on the back while Jayce slid over a glass of juice.

“Yes, I do not recommend you and your…other self repeat the experience,” Viktor said casually.

“I still don’t understand how that changed you,” Jayce said quietly.

“Something we can experiment on when Miss Medarda joins us at the lab,” Viktor replied testily.

“I’m not going to use you as a test subject.”

“Why not? I’m here and I’m willing. That’s more than you can say for most lab rats.”

“V—”

“Jayce. Be practical,” Viktor sighed. He didn’t want to fight even if most of the Viktors in his head were clamoring for it.

“And me and the crystal? Is that another reaction?” Mel asked calmly.

“I believe so,” Viktor said. “I have some theories, but we will need to do some experiments.”

“Of course.”

“I don’t think—” Jayce started again, exhausted.

“Then why didn’t anything happen when I touched you?” Mel asked, leaning forward.

“Perhaps we are both stable,” Viktor said with a shrug.

Powder laughed a little too loudly at that and Mel smirked. Viktor sighed and took his first sip of coffee. He felt it settle in his stomach and then nothing again. The taste lingered on his tongue, at least. Perhaps that was not so bad.

“Can I see your hand?” Powder asked, reaching out for him.

“I don’ t know if—” Vi started.

“Here,” Viktor said, reaching across the table to offer it to her.

Powder took it roughly, yanking him forward slightly in his seat. She turned it over slowly, watching the sunlight play off the hints of gold at his knuckles and metallic sheen of the rest of his flesh. She frowned and poked his palm.

“Feel that?” she asked.

“Yes, a bit,” he replied.

“It feel weird. Like…really springy metal. See?” she said, offering his hand to Ekko.

Ekko paused a moment, looking to Viktor who nodded. He took his hand, gentler than Powder, frowning slightly.

“Think I’d turn purple too?” he asked.

“Nah. Green. Suits you better. Besides, Mel turned gold, so I think the color’s a vibe thing,” Powder replied.

Viktor let out a small, hum of interest. Across the table, Powder grinned at him. Next to him, he could sense Jayce frowning. He turned to give him a questioning look but Jayce avoided him by taking a long sip of his coffee.

“Ekko gets a twin, Mel get magic, Viktor gets…whatever the hell that is. Makes me feel kinda left out,” Vi said, sitting back, clearly deciding that Viktor was no danger.

“Don’t be sad, sis. You’re your own anomaly,” Powder said.

Vi stuck her tongue out at her. Powder returned the gesture. There was something sad about it. Ekko watched on, melancholy. He must have told them, then, as he said he would. If Viktor was right, it wouldn’t have to be goodbye. Vi could come for short stays, an hour to two, enough to keep them both happy. The fraying of the universe only came from extended stays, another theory he wanted to explore. Of course, it meant this was all Heimerdinger’s doing in the end, but there was no use placing the blame. The end would have come sooner or later.

Mel had her drivers take them to the lab in two cars. She, Jayce, and Viktor squeezed in one, Powder, Vi, and Ekko in the other. The driver didn’t look twice at Viktor’s purple hand. Mel must have paid her quite well.

“How did yours come on?” Viktor asked as they drove through the fanciest part of Piltover.

“Suddenly. Something like a headache and then…” Mel said, gesturing at the swirling pattern on her arm.

“May I?” Viktor asked, reaching for her arm.

Mel gave it. The gold marks on her felt like flesh, still had sensation, a separate process from what he had undergone. He asked her questions, simple things, and she answered what she could. No, there were no mages she was aware of in her family. No, she had not figured out how to control it though she knew she could throw up small shields. Yes, she was fine. No headaches, no other symptoms. It was all fascinating and Jayce was worrisomely silent for the entire drive.

“Ah! There you all are!” Heimerdinger exclaimed as they entered the lab. “I was just getting to know our new friend here!”

“Yeah. He sure was,” the other Ekko said, voice tight.

Powder went to him, throwing an arm around his waist as he put one around her shoulder, relaxing. Viktor gave him a sympathetic smile. Heimerdinger could be a little overwhelming until you got used to him.

“We have had a new development, professor,” Viktor said, cutting to the chase and taking off his glove.

Heimerdinger’s eyes went wide and then he let out a loud cry and ran to Viktor, yanking his shirt sleeve back to reveal the rest of the arm.

“Never seen anything like it!” Heimerdinger exclaimed. “Goodness me, what a change. Nothing good can come of it, my boy. You mark my words. Are there any other symptoms? Fever? Chills? Nausea? Dizziness? Any strange sensations or phantom smells?”

“Well, I—”

“No. that’s foolish. Sit,” Heimerdinger said, pulling out a chair and forcing Viktor into it with surprising force, something that would have wrecked his body yesterday. “We will need blood and skin samples. Hair too. Spit. Can you—"

“Professor, calm down. He’s…fine,” Ekko said, almost laughing as he came to join them.

“He doesn’t look fine,” the other Ekko said from across the room and Powder shushed him.

“Fine is a, eh, strange word for it, but yes. Fine. We do have a theory, however,” Viktor said nodding towards Mel.

Heimerdinger had another near fit when he saw her, but he knew the signs of a mage well enough. Viktor laughed as he watched him half-run over to her, a million questions trying to burst forth at once so that all that came out were half-aborted syllables. He tried to catch Jayce’s eye, but again, Jayce was not looking at him. Viktor frowned. Something was wrong. He needed to get Jayce alone, make him speak or at least look at him.

“Jayce,” he said quietly.

Jayce looked at him for a second. There was something painful enough in his expression to make Viktor feel it in his heart as if he had stabbed him, but it only lasted an instant. Then Jayce cleared his throat and got to his feet.

“We came up with some tests. They won’t take long but should prove the…explosive connection between our Hextech and the arcane,” Jayce said.

“Literally explosive?” Powder asked, somewhere between worried and excited.

“Eh, we hope not. Miss Medarda, if you please?” Viktor said, gesturing for her to stand.

The first test was simple. They asked her to touch a hexcrystal again under safer conditions, the crystal and her hand confined to the cage they had built to house their own more dangerous experiments. This time, there was only a small flash of blue. Mel winced.

“Are you hurt?” Jayce asked.

“No. It was only a small shock,” Mel said, tossing them all a charming smile.

Viktor wrote it all down with a serious focus. They were right. There was something there. Next, they tested how runes interacted. Vi, Powder, Ekko, and the other Ekko had fun with that one. For a moment, they looked like children playing, chucking various bits of scrap carved with runes into the cage as Mel sent small spurts of her magic at them. Each hit did something different, the runes dictating it, almost as if the magic itself were playing the game as well. Viktor could barely keep notes on it all. He could feel his own new body trying to react, to play along. For a moment, he nearly did, but the memory of Jayce’s face and his own common sense won out. They would focus on Mel first. He could come later.

Throughout, Heimerdinger theorized aloud, mostly to the Ekkos, but seemingly also to whoever would listen. His theories were sound, if vague, and hidden behind layers of knowledge pulled from books and studies that were current over fifty years ago.

As they worked, the Viktors in his head murmured, occasionally rising to the surface. One hated it. One loved it. One wanted to rip Mel apart and see what made her tick. All of it bothered Viktor. A plethora of hims, each a piece of himself he recognized, many of them a piece he didn’t especially like.

“But are we certain all this is safe?” Heimerdinger asked sometime later in the afternoon when they’d been working for hours.

“Not entirely, but we’ll use our best judgement,” Viktor said, setting his pen down. He had been writing all day. His hand did not hurt.

“We won’t do it until we’re sure,” Jayce said, at his side. He had remained uncharacteristically quiet all day.

“We may not have time. If the timeline is indeed breaking, then—”

“Then we’ll send everyone home, one way ticket.”

Viktor scowled. Several Viktors scowled with him.

“Then how will we know if it has—or will—work?” Viktor asked.

“Some questions are better left unanswered, V,” Jayce said in the sort of gentle voice Viktor hated.

“You never understood our vision,” Viktor said in a strange metallic voice, another will speaking through him even if he agreed.

That got Heimerdinger’s attention even as Viktor snapped his mouth shut. Mel’s too, by the looks of it, her green eyes narrowed on him. Thankfully, Powder, the Ekkos, and Vi were having so much fun coming up with new rune sequences that they didn’t notice.

“What is going on, Viktor?” Heimerdinger asked, peering at him.

“Nothing. I am…adjusting, that is all,” Viktor said with a shrug.

“Are you certain? It seems as if—”

Jayce put a protective arm around Viktor’s shoulder. Viktor nearly jumped at the contact. Jayce had barely touched him all day. The other Viktors calmed at once. They all felt a pang of sadness, though. He felt none of Jayce’s familiar warmth.

“We didn’t sleep well, that’s all,” Jayce said.

“Viktor?” Heimerdinger asked.

“Yes. That is all, professor,” Viktor said, relieved. “Perhaps…perhaps another early night, hm?”

Jayce caught his eye that time. He nodded. Jayce understood, he always did in the end.

“You guys pooping out?” Powder said, coming over. Her hair was falling out of her buns, and she had a streak of motor oil on her cheek.

“They’re old. What can you do?” Ekko said, shrugging.

“That’s fine. Sister-only slumber party tonight. I was gonna kick you all out in a few hours anyway,” Powder said with a shrug.

“Then let us work for a few more hours,” Viktor said.

Powder kicked everyone out but Vi, Ekkos, included, promptly at seven. For once, Viktor did not argue. They had made some good progress. His theory about Mel was correct and he was fairly certain they could come up with a way to travel between timelines before theirs fractured entirely.

The only thing worrying him was Jayce. He remained quiet throughout the day, speaking only when spoken too and refusing to catch Viktor’s eyes at the other’s jokes or little quirks. Viktor did catch him staring at him though. At least three times, which meant he’d been doing it more. Their argument from earlier was still fresh in his mind. Perhaps they had not resolved it as well as he’d thought.

The journey home was silent. Jayce kept his hand in his though, palm-to-gloved-palm. An anchor for them both, a reminder. Away from the lab, with only Jayce’s silence, steadfast presence, and worried looks, he was more concerned about his condition. On the way to his apartment, they passed a young woman on the street, walking slowly and painfully. One of her legs was in a brace more restricting than Viktor’s had been and she used a walker. Viktor felt a great impulse to reach out and touch her, certain that would be enough to cure it. He squeezed Jayce’s hand to curb the impulse. Jayce squeezed back, mistaking the gesture. His mind was restless for the rest of the walk home.

“Tell me what is wrong,” Viktor said as soon as the door to his apartment closed.

“You aren’t taking this seriously,” Jayce said without any hesitation, arms crossing over his chest.

“Our work? Jayce, I can assure you—”

“No. This,” Jayce said, gesturing at his body. “You changed, Viktor. We don’t know why. We don’t know…we don’t know if you’ll go back. What the consequences are. If you’ll…”

Jayce didn’t finish the thought. Viktor had a feeling he knew where it would lead. He sighed and went to him, pulling him down so he could press their foreheads together. Their height was not so different now. Whatever had happened to him had straightened his spine.

“I am fine, Jayce,” he said softly. “And I am worried about most of the same things you are, but there is little use worrying about it now.”

“I don’t want to lose you. It’s not some stupid…you act like it’s nothing. A joke. A funny side effect. Viktor, you’re so cold now.”

Viktor was silent. He could feel the warmth of Jayce’s forehead against his own. He couldn’t feel it from the arms wrapped around him now. He broke their embrace. Jayce was right to worry. He was annoying to be mad at Viktor for his own cavalier attitude, but Viktor could forgive that. It was his body, but Jayce loved him. He deserved to know all of it.

“There is…something more. I…I am not sure how you will react,” he said carefully.

“Tell me, V. I…its better knowing, isn’t it?” Jayce replied, eyes wide and beseeching.

“I am…the other Viktors. They…some of them are so angry. Some of them don’t feel a thing. Except they all love you, though I think some hate you too. I…am worried about their influence. Today on the walk home, when we passed that woman, I…it does not matter. I did not want to worry you. We…I am…I understand the risks, Jayce. Of everything.”

Jayce was already holding him, head dropping onto his shoulder. Viktor clung to him. Jayce was right. He hadn’t taken it seriously, but perhaps it was shock. It was hard to reconcile it all as a horror, though. Viktor was standing on his own two feet and the persistent tickle in his lungs he usually got the week before he was due for his treatment was gone.

“We’ll figure it out, okay? I’ll do anything to save you,” Jayce muttered against his cheek.

“You did once. I wish you had not,” another Viktor said, so sad Viktor felt tears clog his throat.

Jayce stared at him for a moment, understanding something Viktor did not and kissed him. Viktor sighed into it. The other Viktors went silent, marveling at it all.

“I’m so sorry for everything I ever did,” Jayce said quietly.

There was a riot of noise at that, but Viktor shook his head. The other Viktors could shut up for once. This was not their imperfect Jayces. This was his own perfect one.

“Dance with me,” Viktor said, a direct order.

“Yeah, um, are we going out or are we—”

“I have a record player in my closet and some records. Choose what you like. I’ll…I’ll order us something to eat,” Viktor said, waving vaguely towards his junk closet.

Viktor ordered from an Ionian place, one of Jayce’s favorites from his college days. When he was done, he could hear the soft sound of an old love song coming from the record player. He smiled. The record had been his mother’s, in her language. Jayce had chosen the perfect song.

“My parents used to dance to this,” Viktor said, smiling as he went to Jayce.

“Yeah?” Jayce asked, receiving him with open arms.

“Yes. After long shifts, when they hadn’t seen each other in a while. I, eh, I did not inherit their dancing talent,” Viktor said with a self-deprecating laugh.

“It’s okay. I’m not much of a dancer myself,” Jayce said, positioning Viktor’s hands, one on his shoulder, one in Jayce’s own, as he took his waist.

They made a slow turn around the living room, laughing softly as they stumbled or went wildly out of time to the music. The record was short, three songs. They continued swaying slowly when it ended. Viktor could remember his parents doing the same thing when he was a boy. He had wanted to join them so badly. When he was little, one would scoop him up and the three would dance together. When he got older, it was too hard. He never thought he be able to dance with a lover.

The rest of the evening passed peacefully. They ate and talked. Viktor picked at his food, still not hungry, but eating didn’t seem to harm him. Eventually, Jayce nodded off on his shoulder and Viktor woke him gently, sending him to bed, promising to join. Around midnight, it struck him that he was not tired. Around two, it became clear that he did not need to sleep in this new body. He crawled into bed next to Jayce anyway, wrapping a metallic arm around him. Things would be okay, as long as they had this.

Jayce kissed him when he woke. Whatever reservations he had about the new body seemed to vanish and he let his hands explore every inch. The parts of Viktor that were still flesh shivered as Jayce moved hands and mouth against him. Sex in the new body was strange, but they figured it out. He loved him. Maybe that was all they needed in the end.

A week passed. Powder and Vi were quiet and withdrawn, only caring about each other, or boisterous and effusive. Vi’s nails were a different color every day. Powder started wearing her hair in messy braids. Viktor did not question it. No one did. They all knew what was coming.

The other Ekko proved to be just as clever as the original. They both worked well with Jayce, with each other. When a tiny anomaly appeared, two days after Viktor’s transformation, they were the ones who worked with it. They were talking about time distortion. Viktor mostly ignored it. He was working with Mel, discovering runes and metals that best worked with her magic, trying to unite Hextech and the pure arcane.

“Have you ever thought about what might happen if it explodes in our faces? Or rips a hole in reality?” she asked, almost bored, as he erased a rune set and began anew.

“Eh, no. We’ll be dead, so it won’t matter,” he replied.

Mel laughed. As it turned out, they had a lot in common. Neither from Piltover, both had slightly dark senses of humor and were cleverer than anyone initially gave them credit for. She had already agreed to bring some of his improvements to Zaun’s power grid to the Council’s attention. He had a meeting with her and Silco scheduled for the next week.

The other Viktors were still present. They slipped through every now and then. None of it was serious, a slip of the tongue, finding himself halfway across the lab before he knew what he was doing. He had played it off, saying it was nerves or exhaustion or pretending nothing at all had happened. Jayce knew the truth, though, and it was getting hard to ignore the worry and fear written plainly across his face. Viktor stopped sleeping in the same bed as the episodes grew more frequent. All the Viktors loved Jayce, that was true, but he knew some would kill him given the chance, their love and hate inextricably entwined. Viktor would not have that. They both pretended it didn’t bother them too much.

Near the end of the week, Ekko let out a triumphant cry and Jayce laughed once, sharp, exhausted. Viktor turned to them, curious. He was already half out of his seat before he realized it, unsure if it was his own will or another Viktor’s that time. His mind felt muddled. Perhaps he did need some sleep after all.

“What is it?” Powder asked, poking her head out of her tent where she and Vi had been talking quietly.

“Time travel! We can go back four seconds,” Ekko said.

“Goodness! Why not more?” Heimerdinger asked, perched on a chair nearby.

“Um, you don’t want to know,” Ekko said. As he got closer, Viktor could see a blob of red and yellow fur stuck to his jacket.

Viktor meant to reach for the device. Ask him how it worked, for a demonstration. Tell him it was an exciting thing, a paradox made real, something that shouldn’t exist but did and it was brilliant. Instead, his hand moved too quickly, against his will. His lips pulled back in a snarl, not his own. Another Viktor reached for it. Another Viktor ripped it from Ekko’s hands. Another Viktor hurled it down into the abyss below Powder’s lab.

The explosion would have killed them. There would have been nothing left. Not of them, not of the building, perhaps not of Zaun or Piltover, but Mel was quick. A golden shield appeared, surrounding the anomaly as it warped and destroyed itself. The building shook as if it meant to come down. Jayce reached for him. Viktor shoved him away, himself this time, horrified at what he had done.

It had been stupid to pretend that the other Viktors were nothing to worry about. He had been too excited by discovery, by the chance to change the world. This was his price.

When it was done, the building stopped shaking and the force of the explosion still pushed weakly against Mel’s shield one last time. Viktor could feel all eyes on him. He felt sick, weak, not himself. Jayce was looking at him, trying desperately to catch his eye.

“Viktor?” he said in a desperate, strained voice.

Viktor did not answer. He turned and walked from the lab. It was not safe. He was not safe and would not be responsible for any deaths. Jayce was yelling after him. Mel was saying something, and he was gone, out into the street, twisting to vanish between buildings. Jayce followed him, of course he did, desperate to find him, but he was not a Zaunite. He didn’t know to look in the shadows.

Mel came out a moment later. She was not a Zaunite, but she had a better understanding of the world. She saw Viktor immediately and put a hand on Jayce’s shoulder. He turned to her, face rigid and Viktor felt his heart break. Mel pointed in the opposite direction, ordered Jayce to look that way and promised to look the other. The moment he was gone, she went straight to Viktor.

“What was that?” she asked in a clipped voice.

“I cannot tell you,” Viktor replied.

“You nearly killed us and if you want to set foot in that lab again—”

“I do not. It isn’t safe. I…there are other Viktors within me. I cannot control them and…”

Viktor’s chest was heaving. He felt like he might cry. Mel sighed and gave him a sympathetic look. She put a hand on his shoulder.

“You are leaving,” she said, hardly a question.

“Yes,” he replied.

“Where?”

“An…a doctor. He has experience with the unnatural,” Viktor said, plan forming as he said it.

“What do I tell Jayce?”

“That I love him, and I will come back when it is safe. And…and if I don’t, then I am sorry and not to look for me.”

“He won’t like that,” Mel said with a sigh.

“I don’t like it,” Viktor said with a shrug.

Mel nodded. She looked like she might hug him for a moment, but neither of them was much for hugging. She squeezed his shoulder instead.

“Be careful. Come back.”

Dr. Reveck was not a man Viktor liked. He was a man he had thought of frequently over the years. An old mentor, the first adult who had been able to truly nurture his intelligence, the first adult he’d admired who let him down.

The cave was how he remembered it. He had caught glimpses of the doctor over the past twenty years but never visited. They had last spoken a few days after his mother died, when he had come to gather her things. Reveck had offered his condolences. Viktor had thrown the in his face, still angry with the man and raw with grief. He half expected to be turned away. Instead, Reveck rose to greet him, as if he had never left at all.

“Viktor. What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I…have a conundrum,” Viktor replied, which was an understatement.

He rolled back his shirt sleeve. Reveck’s eyes went wide, hungry, solidifying all of Viktor’s doubts. It was not enough to make him turn back, even though he could feel Jayce’s absence like a wound in his chest.

“What happened?” Dr. Reveck asked, reaching out to touch his metallic arm.

Chapter Text

Viktor missed his own bed. He missed his apartment. He missed the stray cats and the way the radiator banged and the sound of the street from his window. Most of all, he missed Jayce. Dr. Reveck had a spare room for him. There was a cot in it, stained with something Viktor was fairly certain was blood. It didn’t matter. He didn’t sleep, a fact that elicited a long series of questions from the doctor.

The doctor took samples. Viktor let him. If anyone had an answer, it would be him. A lock of hair, a soft cotton swab of his cheek, an attempt at blood from his veins but it turned out his new metal skin did not allow needles to puncture it, so Reveck drew from his cheek which was painful and awkward. During all of it he watched Rio floating in her tank in the corner, a painful reminder of why he’d left in the first place.

“Is there anything else?” Reveck asked once the samples were taken and Viktor had answered all his questions. It had been hours.  

“Else?” Viktor asked in a hollow sort of metallic voice. His head ached. None of the Viktors liked visiting the doctor and all had made their displeasure known.

“Yes. Else. Visions, abilities, that sort of thing.”

“I am not a character in a story, doctor,” Viktor said plainly.

“No, but this is extraordinary.”

Viktor shrugged and curled his hand in his lap. He thought of the woman with the bad leg, the urge to touch her, certain it would help. But urges were not symptoms. His head had been muddled since the transformation. His first transformation had been easier and of his own free will, an affirmation of who he was. A chopped braid, a new name, the one dress he’d owned given to a neighbor’s daughter. His mother had fixed his hair after, and his father had painted his new name where his old had been above their door. He missed them and wondered what they would have made of his second transformation.

“Voices. Other versions of myself. They sometimes…take control,” Viktor said after a moment.

“Byproduct of the other universes you were speaking of. Any triggers?” Reveck said, writing it down.

“Strong emotions. Losing my temper, usually,” Viktor said, considering for a moment.

The doctor wrote that down too. He was infuriatingly calm. Viktor wondered what it would take to get him to show anything more than mild concern or disappointment.

“Anything else?” Reveck asked one last time, like he knew.

“I…an urge. A woman with a bad leg, I thought I could heal her,” Viktor said carefully.

“Did you try?”

“No. It was a fancy, nothing more.”

Reveck closed his book with a snap. Now there was emotion in his eyes. He went into the backroom and came back with a rat. Before Viktor could stop him, he cut the creature with a scalpel.

“Why did you—” Viktor cried, on his feet at once.

“Heal it,” Reveck said, offering Viktor the animal.

Viktor paused. He could feel the impulse within him. The rat’s blood was dripping down Reveck’s wrist, the poor thing’s breath coming in pants.

“It will die otherwise. I cut it quite deep. I know you don’t want that. You were always fond of animals,” the doctor continued.

Viktor reached out, putting one finger on the rat’s head. Something ripped through him. There was a flash of light and he could feel a pure kind of power, the arcane in its rawest form, flowing through him. The other Viktors were silent. He could not feel them for the first time in a week.

When he could breathe again, the rat was healed. There was a pearlescent mark on its head where Viktor had touched it and a gold scar where the wound had been. Viktor knew he should have been afraid. All he felt was wonder.

“Our greater purpose,” one of them said through him.

“Fascinating,” the doctor replied.

Days later, Reveck had a few answers. Viktor had fused somehow with the arcane. A commonality in his other lives, perhaps, a thought that made him sick. His healing abilities didn’t have limits as long as the subject was technically not dead, though Viktor himself rusted a little bit each time he healed anything. His disease, bad lungs, bad leg, bad back, were gone. Not so much healed as replaced by whatever fusion of man and metal he had become. That was not so bad.

“And the other Viktors?” Viktor asked, the most pressing problem. He could live with everything else. They were the reason he had left Jayce, Powder, and all the others in the first place.

“You are…a rip in the timeline, I think. A vessel for them,” Reveck said.

“How can I make them…stop,” Viktor said, wincing at the cacophony that brought on.

“You can’t. When the timeline is healed, perhaps they will go. Until then, you will learn to live with it.”

Viktor did not want to live with it. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see Jayce without a multitude of voices crying out in love and anger. He wished he and Jayce had never left the little village in the mountains.

Dr. Reveck devised tests of his healing abilities. Viktor wished he would stop pushing for it. He was tired of being presented with injured rats and birds and fish. His heart ached for each one and, disturbingly, he felt as if he could tap into their minds. He was starting to feel decidedly inhuman.

“Did I ever tell you about my daughter?” Reveck asked one night as they ate their dinner in silence.

“No,” Viktor replied.

“She fell ill when she was young. I…sustained her. I was exiled from Piltover for it,” the doctor said bitterly.

“I am sorry,” Viktor said. It was the first time he’d heard any of this.

“She is not gone, merely resting. You reminded me a bit of her when we first met. Something around the eyes. She was curious and loved animals too, thought a bit more fanciful than you.”

Viktor was silent, unsure of what to say. Unsure of what the doctor meant. For the first time, he considered that maybe he had been more than a passing curiosity to the man.

“Would you like to see her?” Reveck asked and Viktor found he didn’t know how to refuse.

The room was somewhere between a tomb and a child’s bedroom. The glass coffin in the middle of it, hooked up to machines, let out a soft breathy, whirring noise. The child within was beautiful. Golden hair, eyes closed serenely in sleep. She reminded Viktor of a fairytale.

“She would be your age, I think, or maybe a little older. Perhaps you would have been friends,” Reveck said, resting a hand gently on the coffin.

“What is her name?” Viktor asked.

“Orianna.”

Viktor looked at the two of them. Reveck was soft when he gazed at his daughter. It was a tragedy; Viktor wouldn’t pretend otherwise. He’d been on the other side. His parents died when he was too young. He couldn’t imagine the reverse.

“You want me to save her,” Viktor said.

“Yes,” Reveck replied.

It was relief he didn’t pretend otherwise, but he had always been direct. It was one of the few things Viktor liked about the man.

“I do not…I have not tried it on anything complex,” Viktor said.

“I know. She won’t be your first.”

“I don’t…think I should go into the Lanes and start healing people,” Viktor said.

“Don’t listen to him. We know our purpose. We know what the—”

Viktor forced his mouth shut, slapping a hand over it. That time had been strange, as if one of the other Viktors had forced him back, made him a passenger in his own body. He felt nauseous. The doctor took his arm, steadying him. Viktor felt his hand, a pressure on his arm. It was the first time anyone had touched him in days.

“You are ill. Rest,” the doctor said. “We can talk about this later.”

Viktor nodded and let him take him to the small room with the stained cot. He didn’t sleep anymore, but he lay down and closed his eyes anyway. Perhaps his mind to be silent and his older self to rise to the top to tell him what to do. The other Viktors were back to their low murmuring. He could feel the one who had taken over, though, more distinct than the rest. He wished Jayce was there, just to hold him, kiss his hair, tell him they’d figure it out. The other Viktors would have fallen silent at that. He always loved him, it seemed, no matter what.

A vision came. Jayce was fighting him on top of a tower. There was a version of him, tall and slender with a split, mask-like face. Viktor shuddered at the sight. Then an Ekko, a different Ekko than the two he had met appeared. Jayce stepped aside with a grin smile and Ekko threw something Viktor knew at the tall, slender version of himself. The anomaly exploded on impact, toppling the tower. Viktor watched in horror as Jayce fell, as the tall, slender version of himself still reached for him even as he cried out in rage, as a shockwave ripped through the world, turning Jayce and Ekko and everything else to dust until only they, the Viktors remained.

He could taste the other Viktor’s cold fury and desperate. He turned to Viktor, split face grinning, entirely devoid of anything but malice.

Viktor opened his eyes with a start. If he had a heart, it would be thudding in his chest. But he didn’t, so there was a strange nothing as he tried desperately to put the vision from his mind. He groaned and put his head in his hands. It better to stay away from everyone, to isolate here with Reveck, of all people. He’d make up for it. Make Jayce breakfast in bed every day for the rest of his life. Commission a lab to whatever specifications Powder wanted. He didn’t know the new Ekko well enough yet, but he’d find something for him too. A new jacket maybe. His old one was nice so he must have a taste for fine things.

“I thought you did not sleep,” Reveck said when he reappeared in the lab.

“I do not,” Viktor replied shortly.

“Then what have you been wasting your time with?”

“Meditating,” Viktor said for lack of a better word. “If I cannot sleep, I must do something to clear my head.”

Reveck nodded and left it at that. He beckoned Viktor over to the table, where he had his microscope set up.

“Look. Their blood responds to yours,” he said.

It was an ominous statement. It was also an ominous phenomenon. Viktor watched as Singed prodded the drop of his blood. The animal blood next to it shifted to mimic the same shape and movement. A sickness crept to the back of Viktor’s throat even though he had nothing to throw up.

“Perhaps that is enough,” Viktor said.

“You do not seem as surprised as I thought you’d be,” Reveck said.

“I…can feel them. I do not wish to explore it any further. This is…not right.”

“Right has nothing to do with it. Science is above such things.”

Viktor bit back a retort and pointedly did not look at Rio. Sometimes he still felt like the little boy watching her die.

“Would you want your daughter back? If she were only an extension of me?” Viktor asked instead.

“Yes,” Reveck said and then chuckled at Viktor’s face. “You have not had children. You do not understand.”

“I understand more than you know,” a Viktor said, and Viktor thought it was perhaps one of the more sensible ones.

“Did I anger you?” Reveck said, studying him.

“It is more frequent. I do not…I do not know what will happen if it does not stop,” Viktor said.

“I have some theories. But for now, you—”

“No. No more…cures. Resurrections. It is enough. I should never have come here,” Viktor said, mind clear and louder than the other Viktors for once.

“A pity. I thought Rio could use your attention.”

Viktor was still the little boy who had watched Rio die. He had hated seeing her suffering, hated Reveck for what he had done. Rio appeared in his dreams for weeks after he left, and sometimes still did. It always left him guilty and melancholy. He had been a boy. He hadn’t known what to do. Now he understood that sometimes death was a mercy.

Except Reveck had drained the tank. Except he was putting a hand on her head, smooth and slimy. Her breath came in gasps. She would die in minutes if he didn’t save her, so he saved her.

It was not harder than healing a rat or a fish. The energy, the arcane, knew what it wanted. The light that surrounded them was lovely, peaceful. Viktor could bask in it for a moment, knowing he was doing something right. It was over in seconds. When he took his hand away, Rio’s flesh was pink again and she was looking at him with large, doleful eyes. There, over her heart, was his handprint, crystalline and opalescent. For once, all the Viktor were in agreement. He had done something right.

////

A black cloud hung over the lab. Had ever since Vik ran off after nearly killing them and blowing up the anomaly which was kinda cool honestly. Powder tried to be upset about it, like everyone else, but she wasn’t. Now there was no end in sight to sister time and if the timeline fractured into a million little pieces that would be just dandy as far as she was concerned.

She made the mistake of telling Vi that a few days after Vik vanished and they had a weird fight. But maybe that was just how sisters fought when they were kinda adults.

“Gods, Pow, I’m not worth it!” Vi had yelled.

“Yes you are!” Powder had screamed back.

At this point, Vander and Silco had rushed in and Vi had done this wordless yell at Silco and Vander had gone after her. She was crying. Silco pulled her into a hug, and she tried not to cry harder. He wasn’t a bad person. She didn’t care what Vi said.

“Well?” Silco asked.

“Too complicated to explain,” Powder said. “Timeline stuff. Vi’s staying for a while.”

“And what does that mean?”

“That I have my sister back.”

Silco didn’t say anything. She wished she was little again, like when she’d first met him, and it would be okay to crawl into his lap. But she was nineteen, almost twenty. Too old for that sort of thing. She pulled away and wiped her eyes. Silco handed her a handkerchief.

“You smeared your makeup,” he said fondly.

“Ugh. Great,” she muttered and wiped it off her face.

“You still look lovely.”

Powder rolled her eyes but smiled.  She couldn’t imagine her Silco doing anything like Not-Her-Ekko said he did, back in his timeline. He loved them all too much.

“I think Vi’s world is…bad. Different. You’re…” Powder started, not sure where she was going.

“I know. I…Vander and I have not talked about it beyond agreeing that we are not those people. I would appreciate if you did the same.”

“But—”

“No. I would have killed him once, Powder. I was a violent man. You and Vander changed me.”

“Mylo and Claggor?”

“Nearly made me more violent, but you know I have come to love them,” Silco said, smirking.

“Yeah, that little caterpillar Mylo has on his upper lip makes me want to commit acts of violence too,” Powder replied, trying to be funny but just sounding sad.

“Well, try to control yourself. But…but in the meantime, I think Vi is right,” Silco said slowly.

“How do you—”

“Neither of you are particularly quiet people. Half the Lanes heard you fight.”

“Oh.”

“She needs to go home, Powder. And you will have to stay here, with us,” Silco said gently.

“I know,” Powder said, miserable. “Can you just…stay with me? A little longer?”

Silco sat on the couch and she crawled next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. Her heart ached for the Powder in Vi’s world. She’d lost her Silco and her Vi. Maybe it would be okay to give her one back, balance things out. When she was twelve, Powder would have chosen Vi without hesitation. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

Jayce was quiet in the lab these days, only speaking when necessary. Caitlyn Kiramman, who sucked for the record, had taken to coming to check on him. They’d sit and talk quietly. He seemed to feel a little better so maybe she sucked less than Powder had initially thought. Then she’d go and flirt with Vi and Vi would flirt back and Powder would want to smack her in the face.

“Calm down. They’re adults,” Her Ekko said when she was bitching about it.

“Caitlyn sucks!” Powder said.

“She’s not so bad. You just…don’t like her.”

Powder glared. Her Ekko shrugged. Not-Her-Ekko watched them from across the room with that mopey look he got sometimes. Gods, it was all so dour. Powder thought about making a glitter bomb just the liven the place up a bit.

Councilor Medarda was also there more. Powder didn’t mind her. She was elegant and smart. Powder was also pretty sure she knew something about what had happened to Viktor that she kept to herself which was very annoying.

“He’s fine, don’t worry,” Mel had said quietly to Jayce when they thought no one was listening but Powder was literally across the table from them.

“How can you be so sure?” Jayce asked, voice soft and sad and he was really okay as far as Pilties went.

“I…am,” Mel said cagily. “Besides, he’ll be back soon.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’d hurry back if you were waiting for me.”

Powder rolled her eyes. Jayce didn’t answer, but his mouth went tight. Mel seemed to snap out of it. She moved slightly away from Jayce and cleared her throat.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” she said.

“It’s fine,” Jayce said.

It wasn’t. And it kept happening like Mel had another Mel inside her who really wanted to get into Jayce’s pants even though she could honestly probably pull anyone in Piltover and Zaun. Jayce never flirted back. He was too hung up on Viktor. Which was fair. Powder missed him too.

“It won’t be hard to reverse engineer, now that we’ve done it once,” Not-Her-Ekko said during one of Mel’s visits.

“Excellent. How much longer then?” she asked.

“A few days, right?” Not-Her-Ekko said looking at Jayce who shrugged.

“Hm, are you certain?” Heimerdinger asked.

Jayce and Not-Her-Ekko nodded in unison. Powder was certain too, but she wanted to see where this was going. She knew Vi had to leave, she believed Silco, she had sympathy for the other version of her in the Bad Timeline, and she knew that the timeline splitting was not good. Disastrous. Look at the Ekkos. Look at Viktor. But if she could keep her sister just a little bit longer, maybe that would be okay.

“Could we consider…lengthening the timeline?” Heimerdinger continued.

Jayce’s face went stormy, and Not-Her-Ekko began shaking his head. Her Ekko mirrored him. A funny sight. They were like brothers in a weird way. She wished he could stay too.

“Professor, the timeline is unstable enough as it is and—” Not-Her-Ekko started.

“It isn’t safe. The device Viktor destroyed would have taken out the whole lab if Miss Medarda had not been so quick. I…I understand that we need to leave. I just don’t want any of you to get hurt.”

The Ekkos softened because somewhere, fundamentally, they were the same. Jayce did not.

“No. The sooner we do this, the sooner things go back to normal, and Viktor comes back. He…it isn’t safe. Anything could happen,” Jayce said in a hard voice.

“I understand you are worried for your partner, but Viktor is stronger—”

“Than I think he is? I know. I know him better than you do, and I know he’s strong and capable and all those things people say when they look at him and only see the brace. But he is in danger. The timeline, waiting, put him there. I need to save him. If you won’t help, you can leave the lab.”

There was a long silence. Everyone was looking at them. Powder didn’t really know Jayce that well, but he was the kind of charming guy who went out of his way to make sure everyone liked him. Different from Viktor, who wore his prickles proudly, like armor. Caitlyn came to him, put a hand on his shoulder. He glanced at her. He did not relax.

“Jayce, perhaps we should take a walk,” she said quietly. Okay. Fine. Continuing not to suck.

“I…agree. With Jayce,” Her Ekko said.

“Me too,” Not-Her-Ekko said.

Twins.

“What?” Heimerdinger said, little mustache drooping. He looked adorable. Sometimes it was hard to take him seriously.

“No, not about…leaving. About…not waiting,” Her Ekko explained while Not-Her-Ekko nodded along.

“I…I also would not like to tarry,” Mel started. “I am…uncomfortable with how things are proceeding. The fractured timeline has already affected three—”

“Four. Me, you, Ekko, Viktor," Vi said when Mel gave her a confused look.

“Yes. I...forgot about myself. Four of us, then. I do not want it to keep spiraling. Professor, if you are so worried about safety, perhaps you can see that inaction is the bigger risk.”

“He can’t. He never could,” Jayce said, bitter now.

“Jayce, my boy, I have told you that I regret—” Heimerdinger started.

“Just words, professor,” Jayce said, and he did sound a little sad now.

“Perhaps we should put it to a vote,” Mel said. Elegant diplomat.

When no one argued, she began ripping paper, explaining. If they wanted to follow Heimerdinger’s plan, they’d make an “x”. For Jayce’s, a checkmark. Blind vote. Fair, or fair enough. Powder bit back a groan. Back when she was in school, this was the kind of thing the teachers would have them do to learn about democracy or whatever. There had been a wave of well-meaning Piltie teachers hellbent on inspiring the young minds of Zaun when the cities found their peace. Powder had hated every one of them. Silco called them sanctimonious, and Her Ekko had drawn some pretty mean but also pretty funny comics of them. Mel was a little bit like them. Heimerdinger too.

Powder was the last to vote. Her paper stared at her, blank and boring. She was stuck. Keeping Vi for longer and letting everything go to shit or doing the right thing and fixing it for everyone and no more sister. In the end, she went with Vi. Let her screw it all up again. She’d done it before, she’d probably do it again. Jinx, Mylo used to call her. Maybe she had earned that title even after years of astounding competency.

It didn’t matter. Jayce won. Two to six. Her and Heimerdinger were the only two who wanted his plan. He didn’t say anything besides a small “very well then”, took his guitar, and left to clear his head, like Caitlyn had told Jayce to do fifteen minutes ago. As soon as he was gone, Jayce relaxed. He and the Ekkos went back to work and she just watched. They’d send Vi home. She’d be sisterless again.

With a sigh, she took up the thing she’d been tinkering with and went to her tent. Alone time was just what she needed. No Ekkos followed her, no one else noticed. It shouldn’t have been a surprise when Vi crawled through the flap and wrapped an arm around her, stilling her hands and drawing her close.

“I know you voted to wait. I know you want more time,” she said quietly.

“Yeah, well. You are more important. To me at least,” Powder said in a stupid, choked voice she hated.

Usually, she didn’t really like it when anyone but Silco saw her cry. Even Her Ekko was too much, but Vi was just right. She lay her head on her lap and let the tears fall down her face for just a little bit. She’d be okay. Vi said she would. It just sucked.

After she’d been doing that for a while, there was a flash of light, and an anomaly appeared in front of them. Powder sat up straighter, eyes dry now. It flickered, small soap bubble of a thing.

For a moment, the two of them stared at it. Then Vi looked at her and she nodded. Vi threw back the tent flap.

“Jayce! Ekko…s! We got another anomaly!” Vi yelled.

Powder stared at it. It was beautiful in its own way. She hated it with every fiber of her being.

Chapter Text

The vision was unpleasant. He was tall and slender, body warped into something unrecognizable, as it was in the last one. His chest felt like an empty void. He stood on the top of a tower as a battle raged on. Jayce kneeled, facing away from him. He knew what would happen before he moved. Hand on (in?) Jayce’s head, a starlit plane, a declaration of love. This Viktor not listening and going through with everything anyway. Before Jayce could even finish, his words were cut short, and his eyes went wide and blank.

Jayce fading.

 More fighting. Then nothing. Peace.

Jayce fossilizing.

Him hovering above it all. Something like madness starting to creep in. Changing his form until he was himself again, or a version of it at least. Cloaked in starlight, alone. Viktor was suddenly freed from that Viktor’s body and mind. He let out a sigh of relief, desperate to wake, to return to his own world and leave the horrible vision behind. His older self stood next to him, staring with piercing eyes at the world he had created. For the first time, he looked truly angry.

“Don’t you see? Don’t you see what will happen?” he hissed, voice laced with grief.

Viktor came to with a small start. His hand was resting on Rio’s head. He could feel her happiness now that he was awake. He could feel all her thoughts, see through her eyes if he wished to. She was a simple creature, happy to be with him, surprisingly unafraid of Reveck, constantly begging for the glowing purple flowers like a dog at a table. Her eyes were no longer milky and blind nor were they their original brown, but a strange iridescent color. Jayce had told him his eyes shifted to the same color once. It couldn’t mean anything good, but, in the end, she was alive and without pain.

“How is she?” Reveck asked, staring at her hungrily. His beloved experiment.

“Well. Her condition hasn’t changed since I healed her,” Viktor said, patting Rio’s head protectively.

“Fascinating. We need to run some tests on Rio before my daughter can—“”

“No. Rio has had enough of that for one lifetime,” Viktor said firmly.

“You are being stubborn.”

“You are being cruel.”

Reveck let out a small sniff. Indignation. Viktor didn’t care. Reveck wasn’t Heimerdinger. He wouldn’t get a lecture but some ominous statement about power and science and fate or something. He glanced at Rio. He wished he could truly be her.  He would just go away, slide into the water and hide until it was safe to go back to the lab and Jayce.

As soon as he had the thought, there was a strange feeling, like going through a tunnel. And then he was Rio. He froze in shock, for feet on the ground, wide eyes staring at his own form, that had a blank face, that had started hovering slightly. Reveck’s words died on his lips as he took a step back in alarm. He had never seen the man so expressive before. He laughed and Rio let out a trill-like noise. Viktor shut his (or her) mouth and shook his head, willing himself to go back.

When his eyes opened, he was no longer hovering and Rio was leaning against him, undisturbed. He could still feel the peace emanating from her. A shudder passed through him. He removed his hand from her head.

“What was that?” Reveck asked.

“A mistake. I…Rio is the last being I will heal,” he said simply.

“Viktor, what you are doing—”

“It isn’t right, whatever this is,” Viktor said, gesturing at his body. “I won’t heal your daughter, but I will help you find a cure if that is what you wish.”

Reveck’s reply was drowned out as all the Viktor’s talked at once. He put a hand to his head. There was a headache building, the only thing he felt those days. It was no way to live. He missed Jayce and the lab. He missed the taste of food, the feel of warmth, and even sleeping. Whatever it was that had seduced so many of the other Viktors was a mistake.

“You don’t know what you are saying,” a Viktor hissed at him or Reveck, he wasn’t sure.

“Go away,” Viktor muttered and went to his room.

Each step felt like walking through mud. At least one Viktor didn’t want him to go, a strong one. He didn’t care. He was still the one in charge. When he reached his bed, he leaned back, eyes shut. He would pretend to sleep or just lull himself into a state in which he could block it all out again, never mind that he had just finished doing so minutes ago. He needed a break from it all.  

This time the vision was more pleasant. A large lab, a blackboard. Jayce was smiling at him. Matching gold bands on their hands. He got sick. He died. He woke in his strange metallic body. Jayce begged him to stay. He did. They kissed. His gold band was now fused with his flesh. Time blurred as he watched he and Jayce argue more and more. He watched Jayce leave. He watched himself change. He watched himself kill Jayce. He watched the world end.

“I would never kill Jayce,” he said to the large, inhuman version of him who watched him with an expressionless face. “That is your sin.”

“Do not be so sure. We many have done it,” it said in a reverberating voice and then Viktor was back.

He sat, head feeling heavy, and rubbed his eyes. He registered Rio’s distress and went into the large lab, already angry, half expecting Reveck to have put her back in her tube. Instead, he found it empty. Rio was glaring at him. He recognized it. The cats he fed gave him the same look when he came home late.

“Ah, you are hungry,” he said, patting her head. “A moment.”

He gathered the flowers and offered them to her, smiling as she ate eagerly. Before she finished, Reveck returned. He glanced at Viktor briefly, brow furrowed as if he wasn’t expecting him.

“What?” Viktor asked.

“Nothing,” Reveck said, face going back to its normal, neutral expression. “If you truly wish to help my daughter, you should study her condition. My notes.”

Reveck handed Viktor several thick folders. The oldest notes had yellowed and the ink had started to fade. Viktor settled on a stool and spread the folders before him. He was not a doctor, but he had studied under Reveck and was technically still a biology teacher. That had to mean something. He settled down and began to read.

Orianna had a condition not too dissimilar to his own. A wasting disease, genetic instead of environmental. Hers faster than his. Viktor frowned. They needed to stop the disease’s progress, to revive the child in the glass coffin, so like a princess in a fairytale, and then cure her. It would not be easy, but that had never stopped him before. It might be possible if he used Hextech and Mel’s magic. They had proven to be a potent combination before.

He did not know how long he studied. Somewhere in the middle of writing his own notes, another vision struck. They had never come so suddenly before. Viktor panicked, but before he could fight it, he was staring out at another world, through another Viktor’s eyes.

Zaun rose about Piltover. A true revolution. He joined the cause, left Jayce behind, worked with a different Powder and Silco to defeat the golden city. He was still dying. He still made the wrong choice and survived. Jayce came to him simply this time, arms outstretched, begging for them to be together again. Viktor offered a hand to Jayce. Jayce took it. They changed together. The world still burned. Jayce still left him. He weaker than Viktor. Eventually, he too fossilized and became a great statue, rising high above it all.

“We always make the wrong choice,” a forlorn voice said.

This version of him, half his older self, half monster was staring at Jayce with sad eyes. Viktor felt the grief in his own chest like his heart was being torn from it.

“What can I do?” Viktor asked.

“Stay with him.”

Viktor woke. He was across the lab, notes still clutched in his hand. Reveck’s back was to him, working. He could feel somewhat distantly Rio’s worry, something more than hunger this time.

“Doctor? Was I—”

Another vision. Viktor was more machine than man. Zaun and Piltover were locked in an eternal war. He had automatons and a third laser arm, Jayce had a ridiculous hammer. He engineered his emotions out of existence until he and Jayce fought. Until he shot a laser through Jayce’s heart, and he fell, a shocked look forever etched on his face. Viktor held him as his body cooled. He went mad with grief. It was the only emotion he had left. The world burned.

“We regret it,” this Viktor said, voice mechanical.

Viktor only nodded, face pale. His eyes were fixed on Jayce’s broken body, immortalized in a statue made by his hands, made of machinery, wreathed in metal flowers.

Viktor woke. He was standing by Reveck’s workbench. Rio was scared. He reached for her. Her head was solid and smooth beneath his hand. Reveck was looking at him, disappointed somehow.

Another vision. A world with no technology. Hextech took off like a shot, evolving faster than Jayce and Viktor could control. He wasn’t sick here. Lungs clear from poison, but it didn’t matter. Jayce fell ill this time. He ripped out his emotions as he died. The world would be better without them. It didn’t last, they grew back and ripped them out again and again. Jayce was turned into something white and gold in a tomb that reminded him just a little of Orianna’s. He destroyed the world trying to save him.

“We need him,” that Viktor said, old and wizened.

Viktor was crying. Jayce was beautiful. He wanted him. His Jayce. Just to see him for a minute.

Viktor’s eyes opened. He was at Orianna’s bedside, reaching for her. He yanked his hand back. He felt nauseous.

Another vision. This world too similar to his. Except he and Jayce were at the Academy together, rival students, rival professors. Viktor locking himself in his lab without Jayce. Jayce with Mel Medarda, the most beautiful couple he’d ever seen. Jealousy boiling Viktor’s blood until he willed it away. They were friends, that could be enough. They needed each other, that was a simple fact. A lab accident this time. Jayce saved him, transformed him. Jayce loved him. Viktor left, cold with rage. He didn’t need Jayce after all until he did until he went too far and wanted to go back until Jayce was dead at his feet because he never listened.

“Don’t,” this Viktor said.

Viktor didn’t have time to ask what he was talking about before he was whisked back to his world. He was taller. He was certain of it. His head ached.

“Reveck, I keep—”

Celestial plane. The Viktors were with him. Their bodies were made of starlight, their hair was white. He couldn’t feel Rio anymore. The world, his world, appeared in flashes across storm clouds in the sky. Reveck’s lab. Rio cowering, hiding in the water.

“What—where am I?” he said, not sure who he was talking to.

“Elsewhere,” a familiar voice said, and his older self was in front of him. Viktor hadn’t seen him move.

“That is not—”

“A nothing space. A new plane. The Arcane,” several Viktors said at once.

“That is not…am I dreaming?”

“No,” his older self said sadly. “You are no longer in charge.”

Viktor watched as the scene changed and a long, purple hand pushed open the door of the lab. An icy fear gripped Viktor. He could only watch, helpless to stop any of it.

//////

Viktor had been gone for one week, six hours, and seventeen minutes. Jayce probably knew down to the second, but that seemed excessive to count. He felt adrift without him, which was a little intense considering he had only known him for about a month. Mel had told him he would come back when it was safe. Jayce would make sure it was safe. Then he’d fix him. Save him. Whatever it was that meant Viktor would stay with him, alive and himself.

He wondered if all the Jayces were like this. Probably. He’d do better than they did. Viktor had said that many of the Viktors were angry, hated him. Jayce would never let that happen to them.

“This number seems wrong,” the other Ekko said, circling a “7”.

“Seems wrong?” Ekko said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. It’s…it doesn’t fit, you know?”

“I figured it out the first time, so—”

“I’ll get Powder,” Jayce said, standing, brushing past the Ekkos who had taken to bickering. He got it. He’d probably argue with himself too if he showed up from another universe, all hard edges and hope like Ekko or too soft and with Powder like the other Ekko.

“She won’t help,” they said in perfect unison.

Jayce flinched. It was uncanny. He wished Viktor were there. He always wished Viktor were there, but now especially. Powder had taken to hiding inside her tent since they had started working on the new anomaly, unwilling to help. Jayce always felt clumsy with her, like he could only say the wrong thing. She and Viktor were similar. She and Jayce were not. Polar opposites it seemed sometimes.

“Hey,” he said, ducking in.

“I’m not helping,” Powder said, hunched over her sketchbook.

“We could really use you. The Ekkos are arguing,” Jayce said, going for sincere and ending with pleading.

“Let them. They’ll figure it out soon enough and then…poof,” Powder said, waving her hand dismissively.

Jayce sighed. That was the heart of the problem. Helping meant speeding up Vi’s departure. It was easy to guess who else voted for Heimerdinger’s timeline. He sighed heavily. He could hear Heimerdinger himself plucking his guitar. He was also of little use, an immortal petulant child.

“Yeah, well, the sooner we fix this, the sooner Viktor goes back to normal and—”

“Not everything’s about your boyfriend,” Powder snapped, and Jayce recoiled.

For a moment, Powder looked at him with narrow eyes, then she groaned and dropped her head into her hands, curling in on herself slightly. The sketchbook slipped from her hand. Vi and Ekko laughing, the original Ekko with his shorter dreads and harder face. Viktor smiling as he bent to pet one of the stray cats he fed.

“I’m sorry. That was...I miss him too,” she said, voice muffled.

“Then help us,” Jayce said, patience growing thinner with each second that passed without Viktor.

“I can’t. You know that. You’d do the same if it was Viktor going away.”

“That’s different.”

“I don’t know if it is. I mean, yes. The relationship, but Vi’s…Vi and I don’t want to live without her again.”

Jayce knew what he should do. Put an arm around her shoulders, tell her it was okay, play the big brother. He also knew what he wanted to do, which was yell at Powder until she understood what was at stake. He didn’t do either. He patted her shoulder briefly and got to his feet.

“You know where to find us if you change your mind,” he said and withdrew from the tent.

Vi wasn’t even there. Cait had asked her on a not-date-date, and they’d been gone for three hours now. It was a bad idea. He had told Cait that. She had pointedly ignored him.

Mel was waiting for him outside the tent. He also didn’t know how to act around her. She was very beautiful, and she was definitely interested in him no matter how hard she tried to hide it. However, she was not Viktor. Still, it was hard to ignore the feeling in the back of his mind that she was important to him. Another thing he wished he could talk to Viktor about.

“How is she?” Mel asked.

“Unhelpful,” Jayce said, not bothering to lower his voice, imagining Powder’s glare.

“Ah. Well. I think she just needs—”

“I need to help the Ekkos. Before they kill each other,” Jayce said, shoving past her.

“Can I at least help?” Mel asked in a sharp kind of voice.

Jayce stopped. He was being unfair. Mel hadn’t done anything to deserve it. He sighed and nodded, looking at her with a shrug.

“Sure. Maybe all we need is a fresh set of eyes.”

It turned out that was what they needed. That and her innate connection to the Arcane. He liked Mel more and more as they worked togehter. In another world, he might have loved her. That felt right in the same way that Viktor had felt right.

Three days later, they had another time travel device and a way for Vi, Ekko, and Heimerdinger to go home. Jayce felt a bit like crying. This would fix Viktor and he would come back. They wouldn’t be apart ever again. He felt a bit pathetic for how much he grasped at that hope, but he loved Viktor. He needed him in a slightly embarrassing way. A month ago, he hadn’t known his name.  

The night before they left, they had a farewell party. It was the most depressing party Jayce had ever been to. Powder was anxious and too loud or too quiet. Vi was miserable. No one knew what to say to anyone so they sat quietly, making small talk, in the Last Drop. And then Heimerdinger got to his feet, cleared his throat, and tapped on his glass.

“I would like to make a speech in honor of such an…auspicious occasion,” he said.

There was a strained silence. Jayce restrained himself from rolling his eyes. Silco did not. Vander shot him a look and Silco shrugged, unrepentant. Someday, that would be he and Viktor. Middle aged, comfortable with each other, able to communicate with only a look.

“I have learned a great deal from your world, from all of you. Powder and Ekko, both Ekkos, you are remarkable young minds. Zaun is lucky to have you. Mel and Caitlyn, you are both turning into wonderful leaders for your city, and Jayce, well, perhaps I was a bit too hasty before,” Heimerdinger said, eyes twinkling.

Jayce did not say anything. A frown crossed his face. Heimerdinger would never understand, too limited in his immortality.

“And I will take it back to my world, to do what I can to make my Zaun and Piltover flourish as yours have. To that end, I will not seek to return to the council, but instead, spend my time in Zaun, doing good works to—”

“Will you play them little songs?” Silco said in a sneering voice Jayce could get behind.

“Well, yes. Music is the—”

“Your Zaun is like ours, before the peace, correct?” Silco interrupted.

“I…I believe so.”

“Then do more than sing about it.”

A long silence followed that. Heimerdinger lowered his glass slowly. Jayce watched, waiting. Viktor would have something to say if he were there. Jayce wasn’t sure what, but he wanted to hear it. He’d tell him when he came back.

“You helped create the divide between Piltover and Zaun. You are immortal and powerful and all that nonsense, and yet you do nothing of any use. Ours was the same,” Silco finished.

“I…I am sorry for the part I played in—”

“Then why don’t you—”

“Alright, enough,” Vander said, getting to his feet and clapping a hand on Silco’s shoulder. “This is a hard evening for everyone, and tempers are running high. Heimerdinger, you did not play an…active part in the restoration of Zaun here. Perhaps you will do better at home. However, right now, I think we could use some music. Pow, go pick a record.”

Vander tossed Powder a coin. A moment later, music filled the bar and something relaxed. Maybe they had needed the fight to break the tension, maybe it was the music. Either way, drinks were poured and Jayce found his mood improving. Yes, he would say goodbye to Vi and Ekko, who he liked, and Heimerdinger, who he didn’t, tomorrow, but he would have Viktor back.

“Are you sure she has to go?” Caitlyn asked as the night began to wind down. They were both a little flushed from drink by then.

“Yes. You saw what happened,” Jayce said.

“I…I just…”

Caitlyn trailed off with a heavy sigh and shook her head. Jayce waited. The bar was peaceful even if Silco and Mel were loudly debating politics and Vi, the Ekkos, and Powder were playing a very competitive dart game with her brothers. Jayce glanced up. Vi was looking at Caitlyn from across the room, hardly noticing that Mylo had managed to score, bringing the teams to a tie.

“She isn’t your Vi,” Jayce said softly, understanding.

“My Vi is dead,” Caitlyn replied bluntly.

“I…I know. I’m sorry, Cait. You’ll—”

“Viktor and you find each other in all the timelines, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then why can’t me and Vi?” Caitlyn asked. The question was delicate. Jayce put an arm around her, and she leaned against him with a sigh.

“It’s the last night. Do what you need to do,” Jayce said softly, letting her go.

Caitlyn was direct. She always had been. She walked across the bar in a purposeful stride and pulled Vi into a kiss. Powder made an exaggerated gagging noise, Jayce shot her a look. Tomorrow, he’d let Caitlyn cry on his shoulder. Tonight, he just wanted her to be happy.

An ache went through him. He missed Viktor. Tears were in his throat, which was unexpected. He swallowed them and put his head in his hands, willing the others to leave him alone. It was Silco, of all people, who settled on a stool next to him.

“Drink?” Silco asked, offering him a bottle of wine.

“No. Thanks,” Jayce said quietly.

“Suit yourself,” Silco said, drinking from the bottle.

“I…sorry. For all the…stuff you’ve had to put up with for the past few weeks,” Jayce said because someone should.

“I don’t mind it. Powder is happy, Vander is happy. I got to meet Councilor Medarda, and she will be a powerful ally. I also got to get some things off my chest with Heimerdinger. Another Heimerdinger. Ours is dead, not that I mind. Half of how things were are his fault,” Silco said, gesturing vaguely at the Undercity.

Jayce was getting the distinct impression he was drunk. They two had barely exchanged three words before this. He had thought that Silco did not particularly like him.

“Yeah, I’m not a fan either. He stood by and let the council banish me,” Jayce said.

“Hm,” Silco said, considering him for a moment. “You’re barely a Piltie, aren’t you?”

Jayce shrugged, not sure how to answer. From him, it was a compliment even if it was delivered like an insult.

“What do you want, Talis? This little experiment will be over soon and you can be back in Piltover’s good graces, with Councilor Medarda on your side and a reference from the esteemed Professor Heimerdinger himself. The world is yours. Or could be.”

“I just want my partner back,” Jayce said before he could think.

Something like understanding passed across Silco’s face. He set the bottle back on the bar and gestured for Jayce to wait as he went behind the bar and poured him a glass of the orange juice Powder liked so much.

“Then sober up. Tomorrow is a big day, isn’t it?” Silco said.

Jayce nodded. He took a sip and made a face. It was sugary, too sweet. Viktor would have loved it. When he left the bar a few minutes later, Caitlyn and Vi had disappeared and Silco and Vander were dancing to the song Heimerdinger was playing. Just one more day, and he’d have Viktor back, assuming their theories were right. Assuming the timeline could be fixed.

He saw Viktor eight hours after that, right before Heimerdinger, Vi, and Ekko said their goodbyes. He was taller, thinner. His face was wrong, and his eyes were an ever-shifting array of colors, but it was Viktor. Jayce barely had time to register the joy because a metallic hand was closing around his throat.

He heard someone yelling. The edges of his vision became black and his heart broke. This wasn’t his Viktor. He was going to die before seeing him again. For just a moment, the eyes boring into his turned bright gold.

Chapter Text

“How do I take control?” Viktor asked, desperate as he watched long, slender fingers wrap around Jayce’s neck.

“It is about will. The stronger it is, the—” his older self answered, infuriatingly calm.

“That isn’t an answer!” Viktor yelled.

Some of the other Viktors were looking at him now, mildly interested. There were too many of them, prisoners in his body. He now understood the frustration of it, but they were not him. They had made their mistakes, lost their Jayces, destroyed their homes. He had not. He would not allow it.

“Of course, it really is all our fault. We are all of one mind, with the same capacity for—"

His older self was still talking. The Viktor in charge was still strangling Jayce. He needed time to think, which he did not have, and his older self would not stop talking.  

“That one, the one in control, was driven by anger. A strong emotion. Many of us…eh, we got rid of them or tried to. You—”

Jayce’s eyes were rolling back in his head. His face was red and he was spluttering. Fear gripped Viktor. He had to do something. He couldn’t just sit back and watch. Jayce needed him. They were supposed to be together, grow old, make things, help people. He didn’t need Hextech. He didn’t need a fancy lab or recognition or any of that. He’d go back to being an adjunct professor, toiling away in Biology 101, that was fine. As long as he had Jayce.

The stronger will, his older self had said, strong emotions, all of one mind. That was it. He loved Jayce. They all loved their Jayces which meant a part of them all loved his. It was sappy and something from those horrible romance novels he had once caught Heimerdinger reading, but love was a strong emotion. He focused on that, let it fuel his desperation and fear. Let it put him exactly where he needed to be.

Viktor broke through. He let go of Jayce and took several shaky steps back. His body felt strange, stretched, too tall. Jayce took in a gasp of air and looked up at him, unsure. Already, Viktor could feel the other one clawing at him, anger burning his throat.

“I am not in control,” Viktor said. No time for soft, kind words. No time for anything extraneous. That could come later, when all this was over. “You need to stop me before I hurt anyone. Kill me if you must, I will forgive you.”

“Viktor! No, I—” Jayce said, reaching for him like and idiot. To be fair, Viktor was also reaching for him, a reflex.

Viktor was thrown back into the strange celestial place. It felt as if he had only blinked. He watched fearfully as the other Viktor reached for Jayce with his long, thin hand. Jayce realized before it was too late. He dodged, ducking under him and yelling something to the others. Viktor frowned.

“He can’t do it, can he?” he asked.

“What?” his older self said.

“Kill me, if necessary.”

Many of the other Viktors shifted uncomfortably. Viktor ignored them. He needed to break through again, before anything happened to Jayce or any of the rest.

//////

Jayce ducked under Viktor’s outstretched arm. He wouldn’t kill him. He didn’t even want to hurt him, but if that bought them enough time to send Vi, Ekko, and Heimerdinger home, it might be his only choice. Viktor had said he’d forgive him. Jayce wasn’t sure if he’d forgive himself.

“Jayce!” Mel yelled and Jayce stumbled forward, a warm blast moving him.

Jayce turned. Mel had created one of her forcefields between him and Viktor. Everyone had run to his aid. No one was where they should be. The anomaly was spinning blandly as Viktor pushed against the magic, thin fingers starting to break through.

“We need to get you home. Now, or Viktor will—”

Jayce was interrupted by a loud crash. A creature, white and gold and beautiful, crashed through the door to the lab. It was an automaton made to look like a large salamander with a beautiful, crystalline frill around its neck. Without a sound, she charged straight towards them.

//////

Ekko was slammed against the wall by the large automaton, wind knocked out of him. It had caught him off guard and was already rounding on him, moving to pin him. Other Ekko reached for him without thinking, yanking him to his feet. Ekko closed his eyes, bracing for whatever would happen, if he would be pulled a part, if a third Ekko would join, if his body would be consumed by a strange, metallic flesh like Viktor’s had been, but nothing besides a small, static shock. Other Ekko dropped his hand quickly. The creature regarded them with a blank, eyeless face.

“What—” Other Ekko started but stopped, eyes wide.

Behind the creature, more small automatons were pouring through. They looked like mice or rats or frogs. All were white and gold with small crystalline marks like fingerprints on their heads, chests, or backs. Their movements were uncanny and perfect. They headed straight for the anomaly.

“Come on!” Ekko yelled, hurrying towards the anomaly with no plan other than to keep them from doing whatever it was they were trying to do.

Other Ekko and, to his surprise, Heimerdinger followed. He glanced at Jayce at the others, still occupied with Viktor. He was slowly breaking through, a full arm through, grasping for any of them. Mel was sweating with the effort of keeping the shield up while Jayce seemed torn between protecting and fighting him. Vi had a wrench in her hand, Caitlyn a rubber band and a set of screws. Ekko nearly grinned. Some things didn’t change.

“Get Powder!” Ekko said, as the smaller automatons began to rip and tear at the wires connecting the anomaly to the machine.

Other Ekko went. Whatever pang of whatever Ekko had been feeling when he saw them together was gone. His home was so close he could almost taste it.  

When they reached the anomaly, Ekko grabbed the guitar from Heimerdinger’s back and swung it at a mouse, knocking it away from the anomaly with a clank. Before he could recover, Ekko swung at another one, snapping a string on the guitar.

“Careful! That thing is—”

“Professor, you can buy a new one,” Ekko said, hitting another one away.

“Oh, well, I…hm,” Heimerdinger sighed, looked at his guitar sadly. “Well, strange times call for some sacrifices, though I don’t know how much good it will do. We are rather outnumbered, my boy. Of course, one should never give up hope, not even in the—"

“What can we do?” Ekko interrupted, exasperated, as he hit a rat automaton away from a wire it had nearly ripped through.

Before Heimerdinger could answer, Caitlyn screamed. The large automaton had tackled her, pinning her to the ground. A gold glow was coming from her eyes that sent a chill down Ekko’s spine. A moment later, Vi hit the creature with her wrench. The creature stumbled and Caitlyn lay panting, struggling to get to her feet, blinking as if she were waking from a dream. The creature rounded on Vi and Powder jumped, body checking it as best she could away from her sister as Other Ekko tried to help her shove it away.

“Get everyone to the anomaly. I will do the rest,” Heimerdinger said, taking the guitar from Ekko with surprising firmness.

Ekko was going to argue but then Heimerdinger hit a frog automaton and sent it flying across the lab. He turned on a heel, running to Mel and Jayce first. Mel had set up a new forcefield. Jayce was pleading with Viktor, reminders of their love, of their dreams, or their world. Occasionally, Viktor’s eyes flickered to gold for a split second, but it never took.

“How much longer can you hold him?” Ekko asked.

“How long do you need?” Mel asked, panting from the effort.

“Ten minutes?” Ekko guessed wildly.

“Then we will give you ten minutes,” Mel said, redoubling her efforts so that Jayce was blown back, stumbling into Ekko.

“Mel, be—” Jayce started, still half guarding Viktor even as he fought against the barrier.

“Do what you need to do, Jayce. They’re trying to destroy the anomaly,” Ekko said, frustration at his inability to fight Viktor boiling over.

Jayce looked back at the cage where Heimerdinger was fighting off a legion of tiny automatons. His face sagged then hardened. Ekko didn’t wait to hear his response, running to the others. He grabbed a pipe on the way and hit the large automaton away from Powder. The creature stumbled back, shaking its head.

“We need to get to the cage. Can you hold it off?” he asked, turning to Other Ekko, Caitlyn, and Powder.

Other Ekko and Caitlyn nodded. Powder didn’t. She took her sister’s hand and Ekko didn’t have time to untangle that. He just grabbed Vi by the arm and pulled her towards the cage.

Vi understood what was happening. She pulled back, out of his grasp, and kissed Caitlyn, swift and passionate, then untangled her hand from her sister’s.

“You gotta stay here, Pow,” she said softly.

“No,” Ekko said mournfully, watching Caitlyn and Other Ekko fight the large automaton at bay and Jayce and Mel fight Viktor. “You gotta send us all home.”

There was no one else to do it. Powder understood. Her face fell into an indescribable sadness and then she took her sister’s hand in a vice-like grip and pulled her towards the anomaly and Heimerdinger, who was still fighting off the smaller automatons, guitar clanging wildly.

//////

Powder had two options. Well, more than two, but two that wouldn’t turn her into a coward and/or completely destroy the world. One: she could chuck the stupid anomaly at whatever it was that Viktor had become, hope it would stop him, and get Vi for a little bit longer. Two: she could do what Not-Her-Ekko asked and send them home. One was appealing, but it was just delaying the inevitable again and again. Two was really the only option when it came down to it. Powder was still twelve, raw with grief over her sister. Powder was also nineteen, older and maybe a little wiser, and maybe she could put all the angst and sadness aside for a little bit to save the world.

She got to the anomaly cage, managing to kick some little automatons out of the way, still holding Vi’s hand as tightly as she could. Behind her, a battle was still raging. Caitlyn and Her Ekko were fighting the large automaton, but it didn’t seem to feel any of the blows they landed. She didn’t like Caitlyn, but she was a good fighter. She would protect Her Ekko for just a little bit longer, which meant he’d be okay, no matter what came next. Mel’s shield encircled Jayce and Viktor now. Jayce was talking, words lost, but he was fighting too with a little hammer, which was almost funny. Their own drama would have to unspool however it was meant to. At least it was contained. Next to her, Heimerdinger let out a battle cry and kicked a small automaton away from a wire, blue eyes bright with the zeal of battle.

“Okay. Time to go, fuzzball,” she said, taking the guitar from him and knocking a few automatons away.

“I know,” Heimerdinger said, putting a fuzzy hand on her wrist and giving her a sincere look. “Spending time with you all has given me a new perspective. I cannot fix the past, but perhaps I can find a way to fix the future. I should apologize to Jayce too. He…my actions were hasty, unconsidered. Will you tell him? He was always—” he said.

“Yep, sure. Just get in there,” Powder said, nodding to the cage.

Heimerdinger did as he was told for once. As soon as he took his place, Not-Her-Ekko hugged her tight, like he really needed it, so she hugged him back.

“Take care of yourself,” she said.

“You too. I’m gonna miss you,” he said.

“Yeah, well, your Powder is still there. So it won’t be like I’m gone forever and….and maybe don’t give up on her just yet.”

Ekko squeezed her one last time. When she let go, his face was serious. He stepped into the cage next to Heimerdinger, his shoulders slumping in relief. Around them the anomaly started to swirl faster.

Vi was the only one left. Powder opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Goodbyes were hard. She had always known that. Her parents and Vi had left her when she was too young to put all the stuff she had to say into words. She still didn’t know how. But this Vi who was not really Her Vi seemed to understand. Without hesitation she hugged her as tight as she could. Powder clung to her, crying despite herself.

“I love you, sis. And I…I’m just next door, a world away, okay?”

Powder could only nod. She didn’t trust herself to talk.

“Be with you always,” Vi said, pressed her forehead to Powder’s, and stepped inside the cage.

Powder fired it up, plugged in the large cord, holding it as it bucked against the arcane energy. Then, something felt very wrong, like she was trying to seep through a crack in the universe. Maybe that was okay. She closed her eyes, ready for it. Maybe this was how it was always supposed to go, like she was some big damn hero.

But maybe not. Heimerdinger jumped from the anomaly cage and shoved her out of the way, taking her place by the cord she’d been holding. The seeping feeling was gone. Ekko was reaching for Heimerdinger. She was yelling. He winked at her and held the cord.

There was a brilliant flash of light.

//////

Jayce had no idea what he was doing. He had to fight Viktor, he didn’t want to hurt Viktor, Viktor definitely wanted him dead. Mel was starting to struggle, another thing he needed to worry about. She’d come to his aid immediately as soon as Viktor’s fingers had wrapped around his throat. They were a good team. Ever since she enclosed them in their own little force field, his idea, Viktor had stopped trying to break free. He was focused on Jayce now, spouting nonsense about evolution and weakness and betrayal. Jayce did not care. This was not his Viktor. The eyes were the wrong color.

The hammer in his hand was too heavy, too much. It was barely a weapon. His own house crest was stamped on the handle, probably onto his palm now with how hard he was holding it. He only swung to defend himself, between his own pleas for his Viktor to come back. Sometimes, the eyes flicked to gold. His Viktor. He hit him once when his eyes were right. He felt like the blow had hit him instead.

He felt more than saw the anomaly kick into gear. Gravity seemed to get a little lighter. There was an electric pulse that ruffled them both. Relief flooded him. If they were right, this would fix everything. Viktor would be back to himself. The timeline would be healed.

“Just a little longer!” he yelled to Mel, whose arms were shaking with the effort of keeping the force field around them.

Viktor’s head snapped up at the change. When he saw the anomaly start, Jayce swore he sneered even if his face seemed incapable of moving, a mask of Viktor’s own elegant features. He shoved Jayce aside, reaching for the barrier. Jayce grabbed him around the middle because Viktor was taller than him now which he didn’t have time to reconcile with and yanked him back, turning them face to face.

“You have always stood in the way of our progress!” Viktor screeched and his face did move then, hurt and a fiery rage etched across it, enough to knock the wind from him. “It was always about what you could do. What you thought. I knew what I needed to survive and you ripped it from me along with my name! I—”

“I’m sorry,” Jayce said, reaching out to cradle the marble face. “I’m sorry. I love you, Viktor. I never meant any of it. I didn’t…I don’t know what happened.”

Viktor went still. His eyes didn’t flick to gold. It was the wrong Viktor still, but something had shifted. All the Jayces and Viktors and here they were. Wrong Jayce, wrong Viktor, but maybe the right words. He stopped trying to talk to his Viktor. He would be back soon.

“I should have—I should have helped you, not given up on you. I’m sorry,” he continued, hoping the words were vague enough to work. He didn’t know the specifics of this Viktor’s falling out with his Jayce.

“You never…you never said any of this. I killed you,” Viktor hissed through teeth, rage slipping into something else.

“I know. He probably would forgive you for that. I would forgive my Viktor,” Jayce said.

Viktor blinked and then his hand came to grasp Jayce’s neck, not as hard as it had been, but enough to make the breath squeeze from his lungs.

“You don’t—"

He didn’t finish. Powder screamed and then there was a pulse of energy and a brilliant light. The air felt different, like a storm had just ended. When the light vanished, so did the forcefield. Viktor’s hand was limp on his neck, body slumped against him. Jayce wrapped his arms around him. Viktor was shorter than him again and his skin was pale and soft.

Jayce probably should check on the others, comfort Caitlyn and Powder, thank Mel. But he didn’t move. He held Viktor to his chest. He was warm, he was breathing, he was alive. He would wake up soon.

//////

Viktor felt the timeline heal. One by one, the other Viktors vanished in a blip of light. He felt himself leaving the celestial place, but reached out, grabbing his older self’s arm before they could be wretched apart.

“What about all the little creatures?” he asked.

“Dead. A pity, but most of us did worse,” his older self said sadly.

“Rio?”

The name still had an effect on his older self, gods knew how many years later. His eyes went wide and his face set. He gently removed Viktor’s hand.

“I will see what I can do. I hope we never meet again.”

And then he was gone and so was Viktor.

He was being held, pressed against a warm chest, a calloused hand cradling his head. He opened his eyes. Jayce peered down at him, near tears. Inside his head, it was blessedly silent.

“Jayce?” he said quietly.

“Hey,” Jayce said, voice heavy with emotion.

He looked awful, like he’d been fighting for his life. The guilt felt like it was going to overwhelm him. Viktor touched his cheek gently. Jayce leaned into it, unafraid.

“I’m sorry,” Viktor said, the least he could say.

“It wasn’t you. I…I hurt you, I didn’t want to, I’m so—”

Viktor leaned up to kiss him. There was nothing to apologize for. Jayce kissed him back. Viktor could feel him relaxing. When they broke apart, Jayce looked a little better.

“How are the others?” Viktor asked.

“We all made it, but…” Jayce said, sighing sadly.

Viktor peered over his shoulder. Vi, Ekko, and Heimerdinger were gone. The remaining Ekko was holding Powder as she sobbed. Mel was slumped on her knees, exhaustion written all over her. She managed a small smile when she met Viktor’s eyes. And there, in the middle of the room, was Rio. She was pink and alive. Her frills had turned opalescent, as had Viktor’s handprint over her heart. Caitlyn was holding her and crying as Rio trilled softly.

“Rio,” Viktor said softly.

Jayce followed her gaze to Caitlyn and Viktor felt his face fall.

“We should go to them,” Viktor said, moving slightly to untangle himself from Jayce’s grasp.

“Who is…what is that?” Jayce asked, looking at Rio.

“An old friend.”

He would explain properly later. Everything, if the others wanted. Now, he leaned against Jayce and let him half-carry him to Rio and Caitlyn. Jayce let go of him gently and pulled Caitlyn into a tight embrace. Viktor stumbled slightly, leg weak again, but there was a large, cool head beneath his hand to steady him. Rio pushed against Viktor’s side and trilled happily.

Chapter Text

The anomaly twisted them through whatever the fuck that was and spit Vi out before Ekko. She tried to grab him, keep them together, but he was cruelly wretched from her grasp. When there was solid ground under her feet again, nausea slammed through her, and she barely made it to the sink in time. Back in her shitty room, in her shitty life.

She could fight to forget or drink it all to oblivion, but she makes what is maybe the first okay choice she’d made in months. She had exactly one shot of whiskey to clean the taste of vomit from her mouth and then curled on her hard, little bed and cried herself to sleep.

When Vi woke up again, her real sister was there. She closed her eyes, wished she was back in the good timeline, that Jinx was Powder and then opened them again, ready to deal with whatever shit her sister had brought to her door.

It was the kid that changed her mind. Jinx was good with her, annoyingly so. There was still a lot there, a deep, festering wound, but Jinx reminded her of Powder, both Powders, when she took care of the kid. But maybe that wasn’t fair. Maybe they were all the same and had been all along.  

//////

When Ekko got back, it was war. It was running to save Jinx. It was knowing she wasn’t ever going to be that Powder, but he was never going to be the Ekko that that Powder loved. It was knowing in the end, Powder and Jinx weren’t so different. That he and Jinx were both kinda messed up themselves but maybe they could save each other and everyone and that maybe this shit world could one day be as good as the other world.

Viktor had gone too far. Jayce hadn’t figured out how to stop him. Different Viktor, different Jayce too. He tried not to think of the gentle, accented voice, the warm eyes, the patience and way he used to laugh at Powder’s doodles. He threw the device. He thought of Jinx and Powder, brilliant and colorful. Of the Viktor he knew and the one he didn’t. Of the Jayce in front of him and the one he left behind. Of Vi (the only Vi). Of Heimerdinger, gone. He hoped, for all of them, it would be enough.

//////

It was hard at first. Powder was a mess without Vi. It took her months to even start to recover. Viktor thanked a little girl named Isha for that. She had wandered into Powder’s life one day and refused to leave her side. Vander and Silco had done some digging. She was an orphan, still not unheard of below.

“Are you sure you don’t have any relations left?” Silco had asked Viktor, glancing pointedly between the two.

Viktor shook his head but had his own doubts. There was a striking resemblance. In the end, he didn’t look into it. It wouldn’t make any difference if he had some second or third cousin he’d forgotten about deep in the Sump. They would be dead, and he wouldn’t separate Powder and Isha by taking her in. Silco and Vander had already adopted her and, besides, He didn’t know the first thing about raising a child. When Powder’s laughter rang out in the lab again and Isha’s doodles started papering the walls he knew he’d done the right thing.

Another child, the girl in the glass coffin he’d offered to help, refused to leave his mind. He was stuck, mulling his options over, until, a few days after the battle, he finally found a solution. The had been avoiding the lab, but they could only do that for so long. Jayce offered to clean the lab. He and Ekko volunteered to help.  Powder and Caitlyn went with them, but didn’t seem able to help. They sat in the tent, with Rio, talking softly. Vi’s departure had linked. They were the ones who missed her the most.

“What should we do with them?” Ekko asked, looking out over the little broken bodies, metallic bodies of the little creature Viktor had changed.  

“No idea,” Jayce replied, shoveling a pile into a bag Viktor was holding.

“Think we could reverse engineer them?”

Viktor and Jayce gave him a horrified look. Ekko rolled his eyes.

“Not like that. I mean…they’re pretty cool. Clockwork that moves like it’s alive. It might be good for prosthetics or something.”

“Huh. Maybe. What do you think, V?” Jayce asked.

Viktor thought this Ekko was just as brilliant as the first. He was right. They were impressive, beings of metal and magic. It also solved a problem. He didn’t want to see the doctor again, not after he managed to put two and two together and realize he’d been working with the other, angry Viktor. Though he could give him a clue to help his daughter and let him solve the rest.

“Too dangerous,” Viktor said, tying the bag tightly. “I will take them to the incinerator at the dump.”

“I can do that,” Jayce said.

Viktor shook his head. “I need to go that way anyway and your mother is expecting you for dinner.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I have a cart,” Viktor said. “Ekko can help me load it.”

“Okay,” Jayce said, kissed him, and went back to work.

In those early days after the battle, Jayce was unwilling to part from him for longer than was absolutely necessary. Viktor felt similarly. Mel was already trying to get his Jayce’s exile reversed, a task made easier when they uncovered a blank document with Heimerdinger’s signature on it. Powder forged a note at Silco’s dictation absolving Jayce of all his past wrongdoings. It was an overly neat solution. Jayce decided the yordle had done it on purpose and Viktor didn’t have the heart to tell him that the Heimerdinger he knew left things like that lying around on a regular basis. Better for Jayce to forgive him and let that hurt go.

Viktor dumped the bag of automatons at Reveck’s door without a note. He would know what it meant. Viktor wasn’t sure if he wanted him to succeed, he only wanted to be free of a debt. That night, he went to his apartment and ate a meager dinner of canned soup his backyard. One of the stray cats made itself at home in his lap and he scratched its ears, a weight lifted. He was happier than he had been in a long time and happier still when Jayce came back from his mother’s house, pulled a chair next to him, and put an arm around him.

When Heimerdinger was officially declared missing again, the Academy went back to seeing Viktor as a slightly embarrassing reminder of Heimerdinger’s whims. His sabbatical was cut short. He didn’t care. He had bigger plans. He gave his resignation and finished out the school year. It was only fair. He expected to miss it, but he found he didn’t. Powder, with help from Isha of course, threw him a surprise party to celebrate at the Last Drop. Silco made him a sweet, surprisingly strong cocktail and together they planned ways to fix Zaun’s infrastructure. He half-forgot most of what they discussed when he woke the next morning with a pounding headache. He made a note what he could remember, sent it to Mel with a brief explanation and found himself quite suddenly with a patron, a purpose, and the governments of both Zaun and Piltover behind him and Jayce.

For a moment, they considered turning it all down. They talked about moving back to the little mountain town, but, in the end, they decided it would be inconvenient. Viktor had his treatments, and they had taken on Powder and Ekko as apprentices, a term used very loosely as they didn’t need much guidance. Instead, Jayce and Viktor bought a modestly sized townhouse that overlooked the river on the border of Piltover and Zaun. They brought four of the stray cats Viktor fed with them. The townhouse was full with the six of them, which meant Rio had to continue to live with on the Kiramman estate.

Caitlyn made space for Rio after hearing the whole story of what had happened to her. Viktor taught the gardeners how to grow the glowing flowers she ate and Caitlyn how much to feed her. Rio put on weight and was happy lounging in the shallow fountains. She developed an affection for Caitlyn, almost preferring her to Viktor sometimes. Jayce thought it was good for both of them. Caitlyn had been thrown into a bit of an existential crisis after Vi left. She nearly started dating her horrible ex again. Jayce had taken her back to the mountain town instead and she’d apparently had some sort of revelation. Jayce didn’t tell him the details. When they came back, she seemed to be doing better, balanced and driven again. She still missed Vi, though. Rio was good for that, gentle and kind, happy to sit with her head in her lap while Caitlyn let herself grieve what could have been.

A year had passed since the horrible fight in the lab. Viktor dreamt about it sometimes, but it was only ever a dream. He’d wake up, frozen in a panic. Jayce would hold him and murmur kind words until he could breathe again. He told him once that he felt responsible for all the Viktors, all they had done because they were all him. Jayce told him not to be ridiculous, none of it was his fault. Viktor let himself believe that, but sometimes he missed Heimerdinger who might have more perspective on the whole ordeal.

Things with Jayce were still going surprisingly well. Viktor had never had a relationship that lasted more than a few weeks without him growing bored or them getting tired of him. They argued, yes, but it never seemed to matter in the end. The last time they’d had dinner with Ximenia, she’d hinted about a wedding. He had nearly laughed. The idea of it seemed almost beside the point, given what he and Jayce were to each other, but it would make her happy. Jayce too, but it would have to wait. They were far to busy.

He came up with the idea. Powder helped design it. Ekko and Jayce fine-tuned everything. Mel had given it a small spark. Her magic remained after the timeline was healed, inborn and not an accident. She was adjusting and had spoken about quitting the council. All the paltry squabbling felt beneath her now.

After six months of work, their project was ready. Zaun was thriving, but there were still a lot of issues to be addressed. The golem he affectionately called Blitzcrank (and Powder referred to as his son) would help. It was made to go into the dark places not fit for people to live but where they lived anyway and clean up the mess left behind by years of neglect. Silco and Mel had championed it and managed to secure them government funding. The day they ran their first test of Blitz was one of the best of Viktor’s life. The golem was a success and quickly proved to be smarter than any of them had anticipated. He managed to clean up a toxic spill deep in the Sump and return home without incident. Isha, who had shown a special love for him, clung to his shoulders and let out a loud peal of laughter when the automaton referred to Viktor as “father”. It was the first time Viktor had seen her laugh so hard.

That night, he and Jayce destroyed everything left of Hextech. It was hard to watch it burn, but necessary. Jayce held his hand the whole time and was too exhausted to do anything but fall into a deep, twelve-hour sleep when they went home. Viktor, however, couldn’t sleep. He stayed up, distracting himself with improvements for Blitzcrank and trying not to focus on the destruction Hextech might have wrought.

Sometimes Viktor thought about all of them in the other worlds. Jayces and Viktors fighting and making up and killing and kissing. Powders with or without Vis or Ekkos or Silcos or perhaps somewhere with all three of them. He hoped so. Mel, a lone mage or with her powers locked deep inside, waiting for them to burst forth. He hoped they were well, but Jayce was right. It really was none of his concern, not when Jayce was sitting next to him, legs resting in his lap, scratching the little calico Powder insisted on calling “Violet” behind her ears. Her green eyes were tracking a pair of butterflies outside the window.

Viktor reached out and took the hand not occupied with the cat. He kissed it gently and tried to let it go, but Jayce held on.

“What was that for?” Jayce asked, smiling.

“Nothing, I suppose. I’m just happy,” Viktor replied, kissing his hand again.

“Yeah, me too.”

Viktor smiled and settled back against the couch, still holding Jayce’s hand. He’d seen a million timelines, a million possibilities. Sometimes, it was tempting to imagine himself as something great and powerful, someone who had changed the world so thoroughly the world would never forget his name. Usually, though, he didn’t. He had Jayce. He had Powder and Ekko and Isha. He had Mel and Caitlyn and even Silco and Vander. He had the cats and Blitz. All the other Viktors with all their dreams and ambitions were wrong. Everything he needed was right there.