Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

All it took was one second, a mere fraction of time.   

She didn't know what had come first– The blinding blue light or the ear deafening shatter of concrete walls that housed the inventor's office they'd intruded. But all she did know in that fleeting moment was to raise her arm in protection of her little sister, while her other one pushed the kid away to safety, far removed from where the heavy blow would be impacted. 

Ringing noises and desperate cries washed over her, like an avalanche of heavy snow, and her vision blurred so much, she could no longer bear to keep her eyes open. An unfamiliar warmth started to spread over her body, although not like a blanket or a loving hug, but rather scorching rain. 

Blood.  

Vi could vaguely recall the feeling of the thick liquid all over her rough skin and Powder's wails as tiny hands cradled Vi's face. And in some horrible, screwed up way the moment felt like peace to her. 

Just plain nothingness to slowly succumb to. 

 “And what do you need this one for?” 

 A big copper gear got picked up by slim fingers among all other items in the box that had gotten thoroughly questioned earlier. 

 Jayce chuckled. “That's just a gear, Cait.” 

 “I can see that," The teenager huffed. "But what do you need it for ?” 

 The same project we've discussed when I answered you about all the other parts in that box. Now that you've covered the contents of it, would you want me to explain what the box is used for as well?” Jayce earned himself a playful shove from the young girl as he grinned sheepishly at her. 

 “I'm just curious.” The girl pouted. “Mechanical engineering has never really been an importance in my education, so I haven't had the opportunity to explore it much.” 

 Jayce's grin fell from his face almost immediately, though his younger sister didn't notice– too occupied spectating his strange purchases from Zaun she was holding in her arms. One of the items threatened to spill from the box, but the girl quickly straightened the carton upright, elating a small sigh of worry. He wordlessly continued their walk toward his apartment door, the short girl trailing behind him like she usually did. 

 “You should ask your teacher if she's willing to cover more subjects besides politics and history, Cait,” Jayce finally said and fished his keys from his chest pocket. “You're smart enough to understand what I'm doing once you set your sights on it. Hell, you'd probably even surpass me.” 

 His remark made the girl's blue eyes sparkle. That youthful glee apparent on her round face as he's seen many times before during their secret escapades from her parent's galas and balls, when they both had enough of endless and needless gloating from stuck ups and snobs. The last time, he had witnessed her being crowded by her family's guests, all trying to gain her mother's esteem by showering her with compliments and gifts for her birthday. He had never seen his sister-figure look that distressed before, so he had once again saved her by dragging her away from the fawning mass to his private office, where they'd spent the rest of the evening discussing blimps and airships. 

 The key to that same office rattled for a bit and got stuck in its lock, causing something, or rather, someone to hiss out a small “ shit” from inside his room. But before Jayce could call out to them, a dangerous crackling sound infiltrated his ears. He spun around in a reflex to cover his younger sister with his own body before the explosion hit, the only thought floating through him that he needed to protect that youthful glee no matter what it took. 

The north side of Zaun basked in the sun. It's the only part of the Undercity that even touched the surface enough to be illuminated by daylight. The newest part of town existed proudly with modern buildings cemented in their place and its broad streets tidy and quiet. 

Powder eyed the Piltover skyline up ahead, her hands idly hanging from the marble railing of her balcony. The loft she and Ekko had purchased a few months ago finally started to feel like home– like the Lanes. Small trinkets and graffiti paintings reminiscent of where they grew up decorated their space, along with self-designed furniture that were made of collected scraps. They’d always liked to be resourceful after all. 

“Happy Progress Day,” Ekko whispered to her, placing a mug of steaming coffee next to her idle hands. “Ready to show off our work to all those bootlickers?” 

Powder groaned in exasperation. Even though she was proud of what they'd created over the years, she'd always resented Progress Day. Showing off– as Ekko had put it– was exactly what they never had wanted to do. Their company Zaun Gadgets was meant to better lives in Zaun– to help the people from Zaun. There was a selfish part of her where she just wanted to keep it all to herself, to the undercity, and not those slimy industrialists that were trying to make a business out of their products. 

“I refuse to give a speech.” Powder nodded in thanks to the delivered beverage as Ekko laughed at her remark. 

“Got you covered.” Ekko leaned against her, his head resting on her shoulder. “You think ms. Grumpyhead will make a ruckus out there today? She never really likes it when people look at... her.” Ekko backed up a bit, but remained physical contact by placing a gentle hand on the small of her back. “Speaking of the devil. Where even is she?” 

“Ugh, she's probably still in. I told her not to make it late!” 

Ekko calmed her down by relocating his hand to her shoulder instead and gave her a light squeeze. “She's probably recovering from last night. I don't mind that she's sleeping in so much, but do remind her we need to be at the Last Drop in about an hour.” 

“Don't worry, I'm getting her right now .” Powder set the mug down with a growl and returned inside their bedroom.  

She then started her stampede downstairs to the open space of their living room, practically gliding off the glass staircase. Her eyes were set on the door that led to her sister's bedroom, adjacent to the living room, so that the couple had the entire upper floor to their own privacy. An arrangement her adamant big sister had insisted on so she didn't completely feel like intruding their space.  

Powder stopped right outside the bedroom door and stomped her boot down on shiny hardwood floor. 

“Vi! Wake up you slob head, we'll be late to our exposition!” 

From inside the room, Vi grumbled into her pillow, Powder's shrill screaming not making it any easier for her to rise, nor the bright sunlight peeping through her curtains and reflecting off her left arm. Her cheek throbbed painfully, black face paint lingering on the same skin. A fine aftermath of her won fight last night, and her right arm draped over something warm and soft, and– oh. Another fine aftermath of her fight. 

The girl next to her stretched and giggled, “Good morning, handsome.” 

“And a very good morning to you .” Vi gave the half-naked lady her typical boyish smirk, the one that frequently made all the women swoon around her, and moved to go hover over her so she could– 

Her door got kicked wide open. 

“Violet, you absolute brute! You promised Ekko you'd be on time today.” Powder leaned in the doorframe, a scowl on her face and her arms crossed in her cropped leather jacket. Her little sister didn’t seem fazed at Vi's random company for that night and Vi herself couldn’t even blame her. It was probably normal for her at this point. 

Then Powder's scowl repositioned to said random company. The woman muttered a small "goodbye" and even a smaller "call me" to Vi as she scrambled her clothes and fled the bedroom under Powder's watchful glare. Vi watched her leave with a content sigh and leaned back on her palms to smile at Powder. “Morning, Pow-Pow.” 

“Do not Pow-Pow me,” Powder scolded, but her face softened ever so slightly. “Get dressed, please. I've seen your tits this week more than I would like.” 

“You know the pitfights work me up.” 

“Yeah, like some feral dog that chases women like they're a piece of meat. I thought all the fighting would get most of that out of your system.” 

“Hah!” Vi almost snorted at her sister's misconception. “The fighting only adds to it. It gets the adrenaline pumping, y'know? And I need to release it elsewhere. Makes the sleep so much better too.” 

“I can see that,” Powder grumbled, pointing at her watch Ekko made for her all those years ago. “It's literally not even morning anymore. Now get the fuck up and take a shower too while you're at it. There’s paint all over you and you reek like cheap perfume.” 

“You judging my bed partners on their expenses now? Should I snog someone more refined to your tastes instead?” Vi taunts.  

Powder’s face fell flat. Almost an unreadable expression dawned upon her pale complexion. It was a touchy subject nowadays; Powder's newfound success. Ever since Ekko and her started their joined company Zaun Gadgets, their wealth skyrocketed immensely. Investors from all over Runeterra– even Piltover – wanted a taste of their inventions. And though the couple remained themselves, humble as ever, it did prickle Vi somewhere, somehow , that she was just not as... valuable. 

She glanced at her left arm and was met with the familiar sight. A sleek platinum prosthetic with her tattoo design engraved on the back where it matched her biological arm. Powder had personally sketched and etched the entire tattoo that ran over both her arms and back, down to her hips and calves. An entire body suit of cogs, gears and smoke that was sufficient at covering her scars from the explosion. 

The marks looked like blue lightning and travelled from the left side of her collarbone, over her shoulder, all the way down to her lower back and hip. In some places there seemed to be cracks in her tattoos where blue light faintly shone through, although Vi always prayed for them to stay dull. Whenever her scars flared up in that aqua blue hue, it felt like her body was a livewire– ready to snap at any given moment. So, it wasn't the sight of the scars that bothered her, they could easily be covered up, she'd always wanted tattoos anyways. 

No , it was losing her goddamn arm. It had sabotaged everything she stood for– everything she'd wanted. Vi had been a fighter all her life. Loved the thrill of boxing itself as much as how good she was at it– how good she was at protecting her family with it.  

Then the explosion happened. 

“You okay, sis?” Powder's voice snapped Vi out of her spiralling headspace. Her eyes blue and bright, but less than the scars adorning her skin. “Is it the arm again? Does it hurt?” 

She automatically rolled her shoulder. Besides the bruises and lingering exhaustion from yesterday's clash in the pits, she felt fine... physically. She reached her fingers upwards to touch where platinum met flesh, a rough pink texture connecting the two.  

“No,” Vi managed to breathe out. “Let me just wash her stench off me and I'll be good to go.” 

Powder rolled her eyes affectionately at her sarcasm. “You don’t even know her name, do you?” 

“Nope.” 

The Last Drop was neatly arranged, almost unrecognizable as the bar it generally was. Festive decor hung all over the place and the usual beer clattered tables were full of intricate machines and fancy mechanical creations. People were scurrying around, hopping from display to display, conversing loudly and clinking glasses filled with champagne and wine, a stark contrast to the drinks that were usually served at the Last Drop. 

Vi sat on one of the exhibit tables, legs clad in her favourite ripped black jeans dangling off the edge so that only the tips of her scuffed maroon boots were touching the polished floor. She lazily let her gaze travel the room, picking out ridiculous costumes people were wearing– probably Piltovian, she thought with a snicker. Those people always tended to look absurdly out of place, especially when visiting Zaun. 

Still needing to find a way to appear superior.  

She could distinguish the other foreigners quite easily. Noxians with their red and gold pride sewn into their fabric, Ionians with their silken details and the deep fancy blue getups of the Demacians. All these people, from all those faraway places, gathered in their silly old bar, just to snatch a glimpse of Zaun Gadgets– of her sister, who is currently presenting one of Ekko's newest projects with him. A ‘Firelight Hoverboard’ he’d called it. 

These two kids made her so goddamn proud. 

“I can tell you're enjoying this more for her than for yourself, kid.” Vi smiles at Vander's deep voice shows up next to her. Her dad had opted to make a pitstop at her table, taking a small break from playing waiter all afternoon.  

“You mean, I don’t appreciate being displayed like some case study, but will gladly endure being stared at all day so these profiteers can see the genius that my sister is? Yeah, no, I’m having a blast.” 

“Oh, alright, calm down with the sass,” Vander laughed gruffly. “How many times have people asked you if you can feel them when they touch you?” 

Vi groaned. “ Too many times.” 

Naturally, both of their glances fell to the platinum limb, the metallic bicep bulging when Vi clenched her fist. A miracle , inventors and entrepreneurs had stated upon seeing the prosthetic react along to Vi's body movement.  

“Bio-mech,” Vander muttered. “Can't say I understand how those two smartasses have done it, but I'm glad they were able to give you this.” 

“Advanced Bio-mech,” Vi corrected her dad, then smirks. “Powder and Ekko don't like being clumped together with 'basic' engineers.” She waved towards the other stands, where far lesser inventions were being demonstrated. It was almost laughable how much better two random Zaunite teenagers were than the world's smartest and most decorated innovators. 

“Alright, advanced Bio-mech then.” Vander set down his plate of empty glasses, a big hand landing on Vi's forearm, carefully tracing the metal until he grasped her hand fully. “It still works properly? No mishaps or anything since you got it?” 

“Not really. But I feel like I've finally gotten used to it. I can even do those combo’s you taught me now.” She jabbed the air a few times and flexed her faux bicep. 

“I'm glad, Violet, I really am.” Vander smiled warmly, before his thick eyebrows changed into a slight frown. “We were all really worried that it might not work. That we'd give you false hope again after you worked so hard to process everything–” 

“I know.” Vi cut him off. “I'm just... I'm just glad they allowed me to fight again. I've really missed boxing. Proper boxing.” 

“Well, since your sister’s design makes the prosthetic adapt to your biological body, there was no reason for them to deny you.” Vander hesitated before voicing that which Vi already had dreaded in anticipation, but knew was going to come up eventually. “We just don't want you to push yourself too hard, you know? It's been a while since the accident and you've gone through so much– so many changes. Yet you immediately started going to the pit so often...” 

Vi wanted to snap back how she’s been feeling like a wet towel all those years. How everyone had found their place in this world, except for her. How her little sister had to take care of her sometimes like she was some senile old lady. How that, without Powder and Ekko's almost impossibly inventive brains, she'd probably never have bounced back from that dark place she was trapped in after the explosion and the horrifying discovery of her arm having been brutally blown off. 

That she really lost more than just one part of herself during that incident, and although she'd regained that limb, she felt like she’d never be complete at all. 

Getting her face and fist bloody and beaten in the cage was a near satisfaction she'd longed for all those years of despair. Made her feel like she belonged somewhere, at least. 

Vander seemed to notice how Vi had clenched her jaw shut, unable to retort, so continued softly, “Now, I haven't come here just to lecture you. I wanted to introduce you to an old friend of mine. She's visiting the exposition today; I think she'll be arriving soon.” 

“An old friend?” Vi mused. “And here I thought your diverse friend list consisted of Benzo and Silco.” 

“It expands, only by one, I fear.” 

“So, who is it then? Why haven’t they just visited the bar if you're friends and all?” Vi raised a brow. Every Zaunite knew the Last Drop– every Zaunite visited the Last Drop. That's how it had always been since Vander took over the Lanes, and Vi had spent so many days in the bar working, serving all their loyal customers, she was damn sure she knew every Zaunite by now. 

“That's cus she's not from here,” Vander explained with a sly grin, watching Vi's scrunched up face unravel in slow understanding.

“A... a topsider?” Vi either wanted to laugh in disbelief or sneer at him. She wasn't so sure herself. “You're friends with a Piltie ?! ”  

Chapter Text

Topside and bottom, a tale that was intertwined with unjust since the beginning of times. Years of oppression and neglect by Piltover had created a rift between the two cities, inevitably creating the idea of Zaun. Citizens from the Undercity have since long-ago regarded themselves as a separate nation, refusing to stay part of Piltover. The differences too cruel and painful for loyalty.  

Until that explosion.  

Somehow Vi’s biggest trauma was the stepstone for settlement between the two cities.  A Zaunite kid forced to steal from its aristocracy with her little brothers and sister to be able to simply survive, ending up in a near life-ending accident, was somehow all it took for Piltover to wake up from their ignorance. Since then, the council had become more active in including Zaun, rendering new plans to heal the undercity and finally provide for its people. Air had turned clean, water clearer. Zaun had its own voice in the council and its citizens were no longer frowned upon like before.  

Overall, a vital change. A step closer to reuniting the two sister cities.  

But Vi couldn’t stop feeling like she was merely a martyr in their story.  

Freshly after the incident, when a younger Vi was recovering from the gemstone reducing the left side of her body to blisters, she’d rapidly become the focal point in Piltover and Zaun’s debates. A poster child, and nothing more. Not to mention how the Piltovians treated her, like she was just some sad being and a charity case rather than an actual person.   Vander had kept pesky reporters and councillors away from her hospital bedside as much as possible, almost breaking a nose or two in the meantime. She’d appreciated him for it, never wanting to bring up the incident or its consequences, or even remembering it all. And if she did, whether by accident or trying to talk about what had happened to her, she’d simply break down.  

All she had ever wanted was to help Zaun, for it to resolve its issues with Piltover and start the progress of a better future. To fill the shoes of Vander and be the next guiding light of the Undercity. But never like this . Never like some helpless, clueless, broken child.  

So, no, Vi wasn't very fond of Piltover or its population. She couldn't recall a single moment she'd witnessed sincerity while being stuck up there, practically forced to live in the hospital for the better part of the year whilst recovering. God, those people were unbearable.  

She’d even take the innovators that had been prodding at her all day.  

“Not only a Piltie,” Vander said, barely hiding the humour in his voice. “The Sheriff of Piltover.”  

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”  

“Behave,” Vander chided her. “The Sheriff and I have been on good terms, even before the Reconciliation, and we worked together for the sake of Zaun and Piltover. I’ve always proudly told her all about you.” Calloused hands ruffled messy blackened pink hair. “My successor.”  

His words were meant as a source of affection, Vi understood that. But she couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. Some successor she was. Reduced to a hollow shell of the person she used to be.  

“You know, Sheriff Grayson mentioned a successor of hers too once,” Vander hummed. “A girl, about your age, if I remember correctly. Though it wasn’t set in stone, Grayson and I used to joke that the two of you would eventually take over our legacy. Become the next partners for communication between Topside and Bottom.”  

“Don’t see how that’s relevant now,” Vi mumbled into the crook of her shoulder, nuzzling the ink embedded in thick skin. “You’re here to take care of Zaun, and you have the Sheriff on your side to connect with Piltover. You don’t need me.”  

Vander’s eyes widened at her, which she managed to avoid last second. Vi had powered through similar lectures before. It was not something she wanted to hear again. But unfortunately,  

“Don’t say that again.” Vander sat down next to her, the wooden table dipping slightly under his weight. “I will always need you. And so do Powder, Ekko, Mylo and Claggor. Hell, the Undercity wouldn’t be the way it is now if it wasn’t for you, Violet.”  

“But I did nothing!” Vi retorted almost maniacally, back straightening as she shot up. “I fucked up– got us into danger and paid the price for it. That’s what it took for Piltover to open its eyes to us? And now all I am is some... some symbol , but no one even knows who I am.”  

Her dad deflated visibly. She barely spoke so openly about the incident, most of that energy fuelled by too much anger and frustration, which she promised herself to keep far removed from her family. They didn’t need to worry about her when they were all so busy making actual progress for Zaun.  

He opened his mouth to either further scold her or comfort her, but was cut off by the bell ringing as two figures entered the bar. Vi looked up.  

Two women dressed in authoritative navy blue scanned the room before the older one of the pair nodded at Vander next to her, a crooked smile forming on her tanned face. The other woman, one closer to Vi’s own age, maintained her stiff posture, cold and sharp facial features unchanged as they both made their way over to their table.  

“The Hound of the Undercity,” Grayson– Vi assumes– greeted. “And his daughter, I take it. How has Progress Day been treating you today.”  

“Boring as ever,” Vi remarked flatly. Her dad elbowed her side to remind her of her manners, but the Sheriff only laughed at her. There was no reprimand in the booming sound, which immediately made Vi like the older Piltovian woman a bit more. As for her partner...  

Fierce cerulean eyes met stormy grey ones. A flash of other striking blue haunted Vi’s mind briefly, but she buried the anguish immediately, rather getting annoyed at the constant sneer on the younger officer’s face. Great, Vi thought, another uptight one.  

“My apologies,” Vander said, meeting Grayson’s palm in a firm handshake. “This is Vi, my eldest. I guess we both are a bit stressed about hosting this celebratory day in our bar. Not our typical scene.”  

“No need for an apology.” Grayson moved to shake Vi’s hand as well, soft leather fabric meeting Vi’s flesh one.  “I have heard great things about you, kid. It’s good to know the next generation of Zaun will be in good hands.”  

“You say that as if the two of you will disappear tomorrow,” Vi joked. “I guess retirement is a nice prospect?”  

At this, both Vander and Grayson let out equally raucous laughs. Still, the other officer preserved her rigid stance, not even a quirk of her mouth, which made Vi mentally groan. Just who does this lady think she is?  

“Soon.” Grayson snickered, coming down from her hollering. “Ah, speaking of retirement; This is officer Kiramman. A respected candidate for the task when I do decide to hang up my rifle.”  

“Pleasure to meet you.” The posh accent infiltrated Vi’s ears. Her voice was smooth yet icy, matching the vibrant eyes but stern expression. A whole contradiction swarmed within the girl– at least, that was what Vi could read so far.  

“Kiramman, huh?” The younger officer recoiled at Vander recognizing her surname, just barely noticeable, but Vi caught it regardless. “Is she the one you mentioned?”  

Grayson nodded, turning slightly toward her subordinate, a proud smirk given to the tall woman. “My intuition served me right. She joined the force two years after you’d introduced Violet to me as your successor. And now she’s already climbing her way up so fast, it makes me worried for my position.”  

Vi observed the dark-haired girl. One long strand falling from her tight bun curtained the left side her face, giving off a blue hue when the dim bar lights hit it just right. The junior officer relaxed somewhat at Grayson's praise for her. She looked younger like this, Vi noted mentally, softer and... prettier. Less like a there’s a stick shoved up her ass , Vi added.  

“So, our girls,” Her dad spoke softly, “both following us in our footsteps.”  

“Well...” Grayson redirected herself to Vander, “We have more candidates up at the station. Even though Kiramman does make a good choice, there’s Marcus too, who’s been with the department for much longer. We’ll have to see which of the two will replace me in the end.”  

Vi noticed the tightening of officer Kiramman’s lips and the scrunch of her regal nose at the mention of this Marcus. Another mental note added to the collection. Vi smirked when those striking eyes met hers once again, finding this game of unravelling the stoic Enforcer suddenly a bit too amusing.  

“Seems like you’ve still got work to do, Princess.”  

The officer simply raised her chin in a defiance to Vi’s comment and the demeaning pet name, her face twisted back into that rigidness she’d shown when first entering the bar. Vi kept smirking at her, demanding the continuous eye contact.  

“Don’t tease our guests like that, Violet.”  

“As much as I would have liked us to simply be guests, I’ve actually come here on the job as well.” Grayson’s voice turned professional. She held up a hand toward her partner, who immediately revealed a map of files that she’d proficiently collected from her brown shoulder bag. Grayson handed over the documents to Vander. “I didn’t want to ruin this special day, but it’s urgent.”  

Vi was excellent at reading people. It was her best talent, Powder would always say. One look and she could decipher deepest secrets, regrets, wants. And looking from Grayson and her junior officer, back to her dad, she could tell that this meant serious business.   

Vander grimaced at the various papers, flipping through them hastily as his eyes scanned the pages filled with photos of neighbourhoods in Zaun and some purple substance that Vi sneakily spotted.  

“Let’s discuss this further in my office,” He declared, hopping off the table and motioned toward the staircase behind the bar that led down to the basement where his private quarters resided. Grayson nodded at him and started to follow, officer Kiramman in tow. But just as Vi slid off the table as well, Vander told her, “You need to stay up here, Violet. You’re still a part of the exposition, remember?”  

“Fuck no,” Vi whined immediately. Curiosity had gotten to her, and she shouldn’t lash out like this, but still Vi felt that familiar anger bubble up. Whenever something serious came up, when she wanted to help, she was shoved aside. Time and time again. “You can’t just leave me in the dark about this! Zaun is my home too.”  

“Not now, Vi .” Vander furrowed brows made her clench her jaw shut.  

Grayson stood in their line of sight, back toward him so her dad couldn’t see the woman’s face, but Grayson’s eyes focused on Vi’s own. Determination exchanged between both women. Then, Grayson gave Kiramman a firm nod.  

“You remain here with Violet.”  

“Excuse me?” The younger officer sounded insulted, her perfect posture faltering under the command of her superior. “But our investigation–”  

“–Will be discussed between Vander and I.” Grayson mouthed something else to her partner, Vi couldn’t quite catch what exactly. Then, the older woman spun around to follow Vander and quickly threw over her shoulder, “Keep Ms. Violet some company, young Kiramman.”  

Officer Kiramman returned an affirmative dip of her head, silence swallowing them both as they watched their respective parental figures retreating down the back. Vi sighed deeply, both at being left alone with some stuck up Piltie and at being treated like a child. Minutes ago, she was being commended as the so called ‘scion of the Undercity’ just for Vander to exclude her in important Zaunite business once again. So much for being his ‘trusted successor’. 

Though, the only delight Vi could find in all this, was that the quiet junior officer next to her had been treated the same way by her boss.  

“All that talk of legacy and whatnot, and we’re still both left behind here, aren’t we, Cupcake?”  

“What?” The taller woman snarked back at the name calling, her face even more wound up than Vi thought was possible.  

“You didn’t seem to like ‘Princess’, so Cupcake it is,” Vi explained haughtily with a shrug of bare, inked shoulders. “Or will you finally give me your name?”  

The blue haired woman huffed undignifiedly. “Officer Kiramman is sufficient enough for you.”  

“Sure thing, officer. ” The Piltover girl bit the inside of her cheek, her mouth opening and shutting as if she wanted to say something else, but not knowing how to. “What is it? C’mon, spit it out.”  

The Enforcer silently chided her once more with a bored glance, then hesitantly asked, “Can I have a look at your arm?”  

Vi raised her brow in surprise. “Sure, why?”  

The officer didn’t answer immediately, but surveyed their surroundings, as if to make sure no one in their proximity was close enough to eavesdrop. Vi kept her gaze on the girl in front of her, choking back a noise as she moved closer to her, gloved fingers trailing over her smooth metal arm.  

“Can you feel this?”  

Vi almost scoffed at the repetitive question. Usually, she’d snap back, throw an insult or two in the mix at the strangers asking her that, but with how careful the other woman had asked her, Vi remained docile. “I can feel everything, yes.”  

“How so?” The stiff posh accent fluttering in their shared space.  

Vi shrugged. She had never been able to fully understood the science behind it. All she knew was that the prosthetic acted like a regular limb. “Advanced bio-mechanics or whatever.”  

The officer hummed in faux understanding, technically ignoring Vi completely. “And it’s not... fuelled by something? Powered up, so to speak.”  

Vi processed her tone, almost hostile– no, accusing . “What the fuck do you mean by that?”  

The woman quickly shushed her, a gloved finger now resting against the officer’s tightly pressed lips. “Grayson and I are investigating some troubles here that have been reported to us.” Bright blue eyes scanned the room once again, before continuing, “It’s classified, so I need you to remain calm.”  

“It’s classified information, but you’re telling me this. Why?”  

“Because Grayson wanted me to let you know too.”  

Vi recalled the mouthed words Grayson had shot her junior officer. Perhaps the Sheriff had different views from Vander about sharing the case with her. The thought made Vi want to relinquish her personal hostility toward the two Piltovians. “Why me?” Vi’s voice came out in an unsure, broken way. It made her internally flinch at how pathetic she sounded.  

“If you’re truly Vander’s prodigy, then shouldn’t you be made aware of the conflicts arising in your area?” The young officer deadpanned almost as if it was the world’s most obvious explanation. “I saw you examining the photographs. It doesn’t seem like you know what’s at play.”  

Vi shook her head. “It’s a liquid substance. Doesn’t look normal or sanctioned. So, what, it’s a drug?”  

The officer’s eyes widened slightly at how fast Vi understood the situation, almost looking impressed with the deduction. “Correct. It’s shown up occasionally throughout the years, but recently there’s been a significant increase of reports coming in. We think it has to do with a fast development of Shimmer on the market.”  

“Shimmer,” Vi muttered the syllables.  

“That’s what the clientele calls it, yes.”  

“I haven’t heard of it before, nor do I know where it comes from. And I know my city.”  

Kiramman stepped back, allowing more freedom between the two women. “That’s precisely the reason why Grayson wants to include you in this investigation. Your knowledge, alongside that of Vander’s, are crucial. Multiple eyes in different places are more than practical to us.”  

Vi snorted at her stiff words. “Cus you two Pilties don’t know shit about these slumps. Probably have no clue where to start searching first.”  

“We aren’t familiar with the areas here, no,” The officer began cautiously. “But we know where to start our search, hence why we’ve come here.”  

“So, you’re saying you want to use me?”  

Vi held the woman’s glare playfully, her sapphire eyes narrowing at Vi’s shiteating grin. “It doesn’t have to be professional. Simply informing you of what’s happening.”  

“Good,” Vi chuckled and leaned a hip on the edge of the bar table, assertively folding her arms, “Cus I ain’t a service dog for the Piltover police department.”  

“But you want to help.” The officer emptily glowered back at her, unexpectedly ricocheting the playfulness into something more voracious. The taller woman seemed even taller now, looming over Vi in that strict and tidy uniform of hers. “You want to be included, to be let in on this search. You need to dampen the curiosity that aroused you previously, because these are your streets and these unruly affairs that are slowly generating will corrupt the peace you are so desperately trying to sustain.”  

Vi breathed heavily, like a cornered animal showing its canines to ward off predators. Here, some strange Piltovian woman stood, reeking of authority and arrogance, telling Vi all about how she feels and wants in that sultry and stringent accent. The utter audacity to claim she understood Vi and her desperation for action.  

Admittingly– although stubbornly– Vi couldn’t even deny that she was right.  

Vi controlled her breaths, squaring up to the taller woman, who faintly drew back from Vi’s persistent aura. There was no way in hell Vi would let a Piltie ever talk down to her like that.   

“So, what’s the plan then, officer ?”  

Chapter Text

The two Enforcers had left he bar near the end of the exhibition.  

“Here.” Officer Kiramman had said, handing over a business card to Vi, “Call this when you’ve made up your mind.”  

The rectangle shaped thick card was simple yet elegant. Vi observed the phone number cheekily. “Already scoring your number, Cupcake? I didn’t think you were that easy.”  

The officer scowled, letting judging eyes wander down Vi’s body and back up, deepening the disgust on her face when taking in the dyed black spikes of her otherwise pink hair. “It’s not that.” She had replied flatly.  

Shortly after, Grayson and Vander returned from their private conversation and the officers had taken their leave.  

Her dad approached her immediately, retrieving the abandoned plate of empty glasses to resume his job. “And? What did you two kids talk about?”  

Vi wanted to reply, but before she could, she instead bit the tip of her tongue. Telling him anything about the classified information would surely end up in her receiving another one of his lectures, something she had grown tired of lately. She saw a chance– her personal opportunity to be a part of something more , so selfishly she answered, “Oh, nothing. Just collected her number.”  

Vander chuckled deeply at his mischievous daughter.  

“Atta girl.”  

“I’m telling you, it was impossible to separate them from each other.”   

Powder and Vi hung around the empty bar, far past closing time. The authentic jukebox provided cozy background music as the two sisters downed the leftover drinks of the day, while Vander busied himself with reorganizing the storage room down the back. Vi softly hummed along to the song playing, letting Powder do most of the talking– well, ranting , more like.  

“This freakin’ Yordle from the upper city basically stole my boyfriend. They just couldn’t stop yapping about their scientific researches!” Powder brutishly slammed the empty glass of champagne down on the bar top, wildly flaunting her arms around as she complained. Were there still liquid in the thing, Vi would’ve gotten splattered entirely.  

“Is that how you regard Head of the council Heimerdinger? Just some ‘Yordle’?” Vi snickered at her baby sister’s exclamation.  

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what his position is. He was annoying and a boyfriend thief. That’s all I need to know.” Powder grabbed another drink, red wine, this time, and mindlessly swirled it around. She pulled a face after tasting it, sliding the drink towards Vi, her personal trash can when it came to food and drinks she didn’t like. “So how was Progress Day for you? I saw you and dad canoodling with some Enforcers. What did you do this time, Violet?”  

Vi gave Powder a playful shove. “It was nothing, really, just some old friend of dad’s and her subordinate.”  

She didn’t like hiding stuff from Powder, but for this, she felt like she had to, albeit begrudgingly so.   

“Dad is friends with Piltover officers?” Powder quipped curiously.  

“The Sheriff, even,” Vi replied, earning a look of disbelief from her sister. “I know right? It’s insanity.”  

Powder hummed. “What about Ms. Stick-up-her-ass? She looked way too prestigious for just some subordinate.”  

“Hah. That’s exactly how I described her too,” Vi snorted. “She’s actually next in line for becoming the next Sheriff, or at least she’s close to that. From what I can tell is that she’s taking her job a bit too serious. I’m sure frowning that much will give her permanent wrinkles before she’s even hit thirty.”  

“She looks like she needs to relax. Desperately so.”  

Vi smirked slyly at that remark, flashing the business card she’d received earlier that day. “I suppose I know a thing or two about how to make a woman relax .”  

“You’re disgusting!” Powder pushed Vi hard, a lame attempt to make the older sister fall off her stool, but unfortunately for Powder, Vi was unmovable like a rock. “A Piltie and an Enforcer. Oh, you’ve sunk low, darling sister. You hate Piltovians even more than I do.”  

Vi shrugged, dreamily leaning back on her seat, back of her head resting on raised arms as her core strained. “I’m a simple human being, what can I say? Even though she speaks like she belongs in the previous century and she eyes somewhat awkwardly lanky, she’s still hot in her own freakishly stern way. Plus, one night can’t hurt. Can’t say I’m not intrigued to try.”  

“You are barbaric,” Powder declared. “You go around collecting women like they’re stamps and you don’t even like them.”  

“Hey, you’re not stopping me either.” Vi put her hands up and grinned at her sister’s annoyed glare. “You could easily remove my key to your apartment.”  

“No, thanks. I’d rather you take them there and I know where you are for the night, than you ending up at their place or elsewhere and strolling home like some stray cat at 6 in the morning.”  

“That only happened once and it was simply a misjudgement of character. Didn’t think she’d just throw me out like that.”  

“She was married , Vi,” Powder sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Of course she’d throw you out.”  

“I didn’t know that! What husband even works nightshifts that long? Dumb as fuck, if you ask me.” Vi ignored Powder’s growing despair at her offhanded rebuttals, opting to distract herself by sipping the maroon liquid in her now lukewarm glass.   

The two sisters sat in silence for a bit, letting the tension float between them. Vi could just feel Powder brewing beside her, figuring out what to say next. She waited patiently, ready to face the concern she’d knew by now was following soon. It was borderline pitiful, expecting firm words from her little sister, and it being entirely justified too. Her grip tightened around the small neck of the wine glass, the urge to just snap the thin material in her rough fist building rapidly.  

Then it finally came.  

“I know you have your... coping mechanisms, and I don’t even want to, quote on quote, ‘slutshame’ you, but with all the pit fights you have on those nights as well, I’m worried your body is breaking down because of it soon.”  

Vi skittishly ground her teeth together to relocate the temper from her hands. No one ever liked cleaning glass shatters from the old oaken wood of their bar floor. They’d always get stuck in the creases and you had to pluck them out one by one. So, Vi really tried to keep it in. Powder didn’t deserve for her to snap at her.  

The thing was; She was good at those things. Fighting and fucking was all she had. All she wanted to do. Beating a bigger and stronger opponent gave her an incomparable rush each time the referee would hold her arm up to declare her victory. And to consummate that sweet win with a writhing, naked woman beneath her, gasping her name and scratching the rippling muscles on her back, was just the cherry on top. It gave her the unmistakable satisfaction that she craved so badly during her bad times.  

She loved drowning herself in it.  

“My body is just fine,” Vi replied casually. “Never been better.”  

“I know adjusting to the prosthetic was difficult for you, sis. You don’t have to exert yourself to prove that you can just instantly bounce back.”  

“The arm is great. Who even said a fuck about that?” Vi retorted, flinching internally at her own vicious tone. Though, Powder remained calm and composed, shrugging as if to cut the argument off.  

“You were a mess all those armless years,” Powder pointed out, straightforward and frankly too direct if their relationship wasn’t as strong as it was. “I did my job, created you a new one, and suddenly you have this tough act going on that nothing ever happened to you and that you’re perfectly fine.”  

“Powder, enough. Leave the lessons to dad. It’s not like I haven’t heard it before.”  

Her younger sister pursed her lips, yanking the wine from Vi’s restless hands and taking a swig. “Fine. But don’t think I can’t see through you, sis. Cause I sure as fuck can.”  

Vi lounged on Powder and Ekko’s enormous L-shaped couch. The thing was hideous; Various colours of fabric covered it, giving it a patched-up and worn look. But it was just so typically Powder that both Vi and Ekko had learned to love it. Thus, the vibrant couch stood proudly, in the middle of the spacious living room, horribly clashing with the modern black and white decor of the walls and floors, but matching with the other Zaunite decoration lingering around the apartment.  

Powder was busy in their open kitchen, craving her daily midnight snack, which meant a full-on meal. Her scrawny looking sister certainly knew how to eat and Vi decided to stay around so she could finish up the inevitable leftovers by herself. Ekko had seemingly travelled up north with Heimerdinger to witness his personal laboratory, hence his absence for the night and said leftovers.  

Vi could actively feel the hard rectangular paper pressing against her from the inside of her back pocket. If there were any bad vices Vi was aware she had, it would be being addicted to absurdly good-looking women. She simply couldn’t shake them off her mind, especially if they hadn’t had the pleasure of being acquainted with her bed yet – after that, she’d finally be able to rid her thoughts of them, like sating the need for some bad quality fast food and then never finding the urge to eat it again. She especially liked a challenge when it came to women. Hell, playing their games as well as her own was an addictive rush equivalent to knocking opponents out with one swift fist to the face.  

So imminently, she couldn’t stop thinking about the stiff-necked officer she met before. Personality-wise Vi was sure they couldn’t be more opposite, but she had to admit the Enforcer had enough to offer elsewise. Personalities she could easily ignore when she had them pressed face down in her mattress. And being able to wipe that uptight scowl off her face was just a nice bonus.  

“Powder,” Vi warned her, “I’m gonna make a call. Be nice and quiet, will you?”  

Her sister gave her a double thumbs up, her mouth already stuffed with late dinner. Vi studied the phone number silently. It was already some minutes past midnight, would the grim but undeniably sexy woman even be awake at this hour? Vi debated it briefly. It was weekend, and even if the navy haired officer didn’t particularly exude ‘booming personal life’, surely then she’d be overworking herself and quite likely not be asleep yet.  

It was enough tipping scale for Vi to type in the correspondent numbers and press her face against the copper telephone Powder owned. She listened to the shrill ringing for the call to be connected by the switchboard operators in Piltover, taking its sweet time, before a soft click made Vi sit back against the cushions of the ratty couch with a victorious smirk.  

“Haven’t had enough of me yet, Cupcake?” She smoothly opened the conversation, which resulted in an awkward moment of silence, where she had to wait a beat too long for her own liking.  

Then; “Violet.”  

Vi’s face immediately fell. That was not the posh accent she expected, but a grating voice.  

“S-Sheriff Grayson, good evening.” Vi physically cringed and from the kitchen Powder practically doubled over in laughing, choking back the audio to not disturb the call any further.  

“I see my personal business card has been dutifully delivered by officer Kiramman,” Grayson replied, a hint of amusement in the way she said it, which made Vi grow even more red in the face. “I will not ask about the whole ‘Cupcake’ comment, by the way.”  

“...Please.”  

Vi heard the older officer chuckle softly. “Is there perhaps another reason you wanted to call, other than what that nick name could imply?”  

Vi understood Grayson was trying to pry a bit, see if Vi wanted to seriously join their hunt. Vi hesitantly glanced over at the kitchen, hoping Powder would be blissfully unaware, but soft blue eyes stubbornly held her own. She faced away.  

“Uh, yes, actually. I’m in, if that’s what you were implying?” Vi said vaguely, her sister’s eyes boring into her skull.  

“That’s excellent news, Violet. Would you be able to come by the station on Monday? We’ll go over the details to get you fully prepared.”  

“Sure thing, chief.”  

The deep voice, probably due years of smoking, statically grumbled over the connection. “No need to call me that, Vi. I won’t be your boss. View it as a partnership, where I’m just an informant.”  

“Ah, okay,” Vi responded thickly. “I’ll see you then.”  

“Good night, Violet.”  

Vi didn’t even have time to put away the phone as Powder quite literally hurled herself at her big sister. “What was that about?”  

Vi barely caught Powder on her lap, tiny arms framing her head against the back of the couch. “Nothing,” she lied through her teeth.  

“That business card belonged to the Sheriff of Piltover, it’s not nothing ! There is a reason she gave it to you. C’mon spill.”  

Vi sighed exasperated at her sister’s insistence. It does run in the family, after all. “Promise you won’t tell dad.”  

“Not a word,” Powder said, zipping motion across her lips.  

“Well, there’s something going on in Zaun. The officers you saw today have asked me for my help. Dad didn’t want to let me in when he had a conversation about it with the Sheriff, but it seems like she had other plans for me. So, Vander doesn’t need to know, please.”  

Powder’s face scrunched up, the way it typically did when thinking too much about one of her designs in progress. She was processing what Vi had just told her.  

“Sounds... serious? Dangerous? Might be a reason dad doesn’t want you to be involved.” Powder’s voice stooped low.  

“Come on, Pow-Pow, I want to do this thing. Whatever it is, Sheriff Grayson wouldn’t have given us a head up on it if it wasn’t necessary.”  

Powder was a smart and interceptive woman herself, Vi had always prided her on this. But for this specific case she’d rather Powder didn’t possess such skills. However, Powder looked at her with the realization of the deeper meaning as to why Vi wanted this job. Eventually her little sister just exhaled deeply, flopping backwards onto the sofa.  

“Just make sure you stay safe then. I do not want to be responsible for telling dad how you ended up in the same police business he was keen on keeping you away from.” She then shot straight up as if another realization had hit her in the moment, pointing a pink nail polish topped off finger in Vi’s direction. “And I swear to Janna, Violet, if you are doing this for some Enforcer pussy, I am so gonna sibling-divorce you!”  

Vi barked out a laugh. “I promise, it’s not only for that.”  

A cheeky wink added was enough for Powder to tackle her once again.  

Piltover had always looked out of place for Vi– or Vi was the one out of place, really; with her black leather jacket that barely fit her broad shoulders, the tattoos that covered almost her entire body, the ripped jeans and her amateurish dyed hair.  

Crossing the bridge was fairly common now. It had become a free passageway for Zaunites and Piltovians to cross the River Pilt. Ever since the Reconciliation, more jobs on topside had been opened up for Zaunites, resulting in booming economies for both cities, something no one had ever expected to happen. More Zaunites had successfully integrated in Piltover, steady jobs and homes acquired, but most Piltovians still preferred staying topside and wouldn’t want to be found dead in Zaun. Give or take, it was progress.  

For Vi, though, she’d avoided Piltover as much as she could. It wasn’t like her last experience with the upper city had been... a blast.  

Still, here she stood, facing a far too fancy and tall building in a city full of them. The intricate circles and outlines of a gear that made up the symbol of Piltover’s police department was flaunted proudly atop the building and on all its banners. Vi took a moment to breath and not get overwhelmed before she stepped inside.  

The interior was even grander, barely making it seem like a police station of all things. Vi took in the huge, high-rise ceiling room, trying to dodge employees in expensive suits and neat uniforms running around with files and coffees as she tried to adapt to the chaos. In the centre, at the very back of the room, a long, sleek counter in the shape of half an oval reeled her in.  

A couple of workers with delicate, steampunk goggles on were all typing away on typewriters, save for one woman who looked up at Vi’s presence. The woman smiled at Vi, and from the name on her badge alongside the comfortable hairdo, Vi could tell she was from Zaun.  

“Can I help you?”  

“Yes, I have an appointment with Sheriff Grayson. Under the name Vi... uh, Violet.” Vi sheepishly scratched the back of her head.  

The woman took a moment, rummaging through a thick notebook before telling Vi to walk straight on through the regal, wooden door ahead. Even the enormous piece of oak had the department’s symbol carved into it. Past the grand entryway, Vi was hit with the sight of a spacious room filled with desks aligned with one another and hundreds of Enforcers in their navy uniforms. None of these uniforms had the same intricate details like the ones Sheriff Grayson and officer Kiramman had worn. Probably to disperse the ranks, she thought. As where Grayson and Kiramman wore tight greyish trousers, the other female Enforcers sported a skirt. All the officers also wore the same tunics, thick shoulder pads atop, but Vi recalled the two women in the Last Drop with buttoned up vests that covered the mandatory white blouse underneath. Their details consisted more of gold, rather than the browns on the basic uniforms.  

Some Enforcers looked up at Vi’s entrance, perplexed at the sight. It made Vi wonder if it was usual that some random Zaunite citizen could walk in freely to casually meet up with the big boss in town. Still, she marched down the narrow pathway, bracketed by desks, ignoring the stares and keeping her posture assertive. No one had dared to speak to her or ask her why she was here and it was certainly entertaining for her cocky attitude.   

When you enter the room, it was quite obvious that the high-ranking department resided in the three private offices at the very back. The middle closed off room had the word ‘Sheriff’ written on the glass of the door, easy for Vi to know where she was supposed to go.  

The other two offices flanking the Sheriffs were similar, but the right-hand sided one had its windows and door uncovered from its blinds. Vi spotted a middle-aged man behind a fancy desk, the bulletin board behind him fairly empty aside from one colourful and childish drawing in the bottom corner.  

From what Vi had heard about candidates back at the Last Drop, she assumed this had to be the Marcus that made officer Kiramman scowl so hard that her wrinkles appeared etched into her forehead. So, concluding that, it meant the office on the far left had to be Kiramman’s. Vi snorted mentally at how tightly all the blinds of her office windows were shut. Even the Sheriff herself had little peek through gaps in hers.  

Vi debated for second to waltz into the office and annoy the uptight officer, as payment for not telling her that the phone number she’d given her was her boss’s and not a personal one, like Vi had joked to her about. Because it was totally embarrassing for Vi and somehow Vi guessed that that was exactly the outcome Kiramman had calculated.  

But before she could even make up her mind, the Sheriff’s door swung wide open, revealing said uptight officer that recently kept wandering her mind. Her long, straight nose crumpled slightly at Vi, eyes narrowed and cold as always, the detailed uniform snug on her lanky body.   

“Vi.”  

“Kiramman.”  

Without much else, the tall woman stepped aside, holding the door open for her. Vi walked past her, catching a whiff of floral perfume– Lavender , Vi thought hazily, before the woman shut the door tightly.  

“Ah, Violet, perfect timing,” Grayson greeted her from behind the large desk. Files were scattered along the surface and two steaming cups of tea neatly set on saucers sat on opposite ends of the desk. Vi purposefully chose the chair in front of one of the cups– Kiramman’s, no doubt, since the dark-haired woman glared at Vi as she sat down on the remaining seat, sliding the tea closer to herself with an annoyed grunt.  

“Sup, chief.” Vi leaned back in the soft leathers of the armchair, in all her man-spreading and nonchalant glory. This earned her another grunt from the prim and proper officer beside her that Vi proudly added to her rapidly expanding collection of annoyed Kiramman noises.  

“Let’s go over this fast and efficiently, shall we?” Sheriff Grayson stood up and moved aside to direct Vi’s focus on the bulletin board behind her. A large meticulous map of Zaun hung on it, red pins and various pictures accompanying it. “Officer Kiramman has updated me on what you’ve discussed last Friday. So, you understand what Shimmer is, I presume?”  

“Sorta. A drug, yeah? Don’t know what it does though.”  

The Sheriff nodded, plucking one of the photos from the board and laying it flat on the desk. It showed a tube filled with a bubbling purple liquid. Vi had seen the same on in the map Vander was holding.  

“It’s an enhancer,” Grayson explained. “Reports have been saying Shimmer users get dangerous and aggressive after consuming it. Unthinkable crimes have been committed by people with this substance in their system. It makes them unpredictable, reckless . I can’t afford to let it linger around the streets any longer.”  

After carefully listening and remaining confused by the effects of it, Vi decided to ask, “In what way does the user grow dangerous?”   

Grayson looked toward her subordinate, giving her a small nod. The woman next to Vi got up immediately and grabbed a casefile from her shoulder bag. She dropped the map open in front of Vi, and in one swift and skilful motion she arranged the contents of it across the desk. The poised officer pointed at the photos and hastily scribbled notes.  

“These are all information and evidence I’ve collected so far. It’s classified, hence why we can’t keep it displayed.” Kiramman moved her gloved hand toward the first picture on the far left, Vi’s gaze travelling with it. A monstrous looking man was depicted, purple veins bulging from all over his inhuman body, his eyes empty and drooping amethyst liquid. “Shimmer enhances entire bodies– Strength, speed, mass. But from what we can tell, it also impacts the mind. The culprits are being described as ‘not themselves’ and are unable to communicate properly.”  

Vi felt a knot in her stomach upon seeing familiar blonde hair on the photographed Shimmered man.  

“I think I know this dude,” she said, voice barely a whisper. “He used to taunt other kids on the northside streets of Zaun.”  

The two Enforcers looked confounded by this reveal, wide eyeing each other as Grayson quickly addressed Vi further, pressing the matter. “Do you know more of his occupations?”  

Both of them waited in anticipation, but Vi hadn’t quite heard the Sheriff’s question. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”  

Vi figured the empty look in his eyes wasn’t a side-effect of Shimmer. She hadn’t liked him. Ever. But the transformation at the hands of Shimmer seemed brutal from what only a few pictures could portray.  

“Officer Kiramman had to shoot him four times in the head before the body couldn’t regenerate in time to withstand the damage anymore,” Grayson answered calmly. “We hadn’t succeeded at capturing a Shimmer user prior to this one; they always fled the scene entirely or we had to retreat our local officers to preserve their safety. Unfortunately, it was clear that this was our only course of action.”  

“We have taken the corpse into custody,” Grayson continued. “Our researchers down at the lab are trying to figure out how a drug like this can be made. It might give us more insight as to where we can find its origins from.”  

“And you think it’s from somewhere in Zaun.” Vi eyed the cops. They seemed cautious about answering, not wanting to claim some sort of prejudice about the area she was from and provoke her.  

“So far all the evidence does lead back to Zaun.” Officer Kiramman spoke up first. She showed Vi the next set of photos and a list she had written down in unreadable scratchy handwriting. “All of the reports have come from Zaunites. Most of the incidents caused by Shimmer users are located in Zaun. We now also know that the Shimmer user in our custody is from Zaun as well. It’s enough to draw conclusions.”  

Vi wanted to retaliate, that stubborn pride flaring up at how aloof the uptight Piltovian had spoken about her home, but Grayson was one step ahead of her.   

“We want to keep the streets in the undercity safe and clean, kid. It is our responsibility that no citizen in either Piltover or Zaun will get harmed by this drug. We don’t do this because we think we know better. That’s precisely why we want you in on this. You live and breathe Zaun, and we need that experience if we want to hurry this investigation.”  

Vi slowly breathed out.  

From the corner of her eye, she caught the unreadable expression of the young officer, ocean eyes fixated on her like she was one of her dumb detective cases, thoroughly studying her. It made Vi want to rip that stupid tight bun off her blue head.  

“I know,” she muttered defeatedly.  

“It’s good that you’re determined, kid,” Grayson told her, a kind look supporting her words. “It reminds me of Vander, in a way. You’re both equally passionate about your home. Don’t let anyone make you think that’s a bad thing.”  

“Yeah, okay.” Vi bit the inside of her cheek. She wasn’t particularly good at accepting coddling words. It all felt superficial to her if she couldn’t exactly live up to them.  

An uncomfortable silence fell over the three women, until officer Kiramman gracefully cleared her throat in her fist. “Ma’am, not to interrupt, but I am actually interested in what Vi had mentioned earlier about the Shimmer victim we’ve secured.”  

“Go ahead, young Kiramman.”  

Vi sceptically watched the posh officer put her gloved hands flat down on the desk, facing Vi, which made her basically tower over her from across the other side of the wooden furniture. But then, against Vi’s expectations, the woman idly sat down in the Sheriff’s chair, so they were on the same eye level.  

“Tell me more about him. The Zaunite kid you knew before he turned rogue.”  

Vi thought she spotted a small quirk of lips that would mean the officer actually smiled for once, but in the same instance her face contorted back into that everlasting stoicism and she whipped out a leather wrapped notebook from one of the pockets strapped to her trousers.  

“His name’s Deckard,” Vi started slowly. “He wasn’t a good guy, really. A back-alley thug who was only good at gloating his own ego. Not even surprised he resorted to Shimmer if it enhanced him like that.”  

“Do you know anything about connections he had? A band leader perhaps.”  

Vi shook her head. “It was him and his mobster friends. Heh, I’d beaten him up plenty of times to know he doesn’t have some higher up that protects him.”  

“You get into fights?” The officer had stopped scribbling momentarily to raise a perfectly manicured eyebrow at Vi.  

“These are not just for show.” Vi slapped the bicep of her biological arm to prove her point, grinning as the other woman scowled like it was a national offense.  

“Right,” Kiramman responded flatly. In the background, Grayson snickered with amusement at the exchange. “So, this Deckard seemed like someone who’d use Shimmer. Can you elaborate?”  

Vi shrugged. “Lots of kids in Zaun were desperate. Deckard was one of them.”  

“Desperate how?”  

“Oh, I dunno, to survive , maybe?” Vi snarked. “You people from topside haven’t exactly made it easy for kids like us.”  

“Focus.” The word had come out strictly, grounding Vi with ease. Officer Kiramman stared right at her, cerulean irises softening ever so slightly. “I’m here on behalf of the police department that serves both cities.”  

Vi recollected herself under the watchful gaze of the young officer, yoked muscles loosening slowly. “He mostly lingered around the harbour,” she said eventually. “At least, that’s where I usually ran into him. Don’t know much else though.”  

Officer Kiramman nodded at the information. “Thank you.”   

The tall woman abandoned her seat and whipped around to the investigation board behind her. She pointed at one of the red pins that donned the map of Zaun. “Is this approximately where?”  

The red pin rested precisely on the far most corner of the docks.   

“Yes,” Vi answered.  

“Seems like you were right, young Kiramman,” Grayson praised her.  

“I would like to go there.” Officer Kiramman stood with perfectly straight posture, her hands clasped behind her back and her chin raised high. “Today, if possible.”  

Vi wasn’t perplexed at the eagerness of the uptight officer. At this point it was beyond transparent how serious Kiramman took the job and how hard she tried to look the part as well. But in some way, Vi was puzzled too by her character, given how that cold front seemed to falter occasionally. The girl radiated almost a childish energy in the way she slightly reclined whenever praise was given by her superior, and in how she was asking Grayson for permission reminded Vi of a kid that had been scolded a few times too many by their parents.  

Vi absentmindedly wondered if that were the case.  

“You read my mind, Kiramman. I cannot accompany you myself today, since I have my weekly public speech in an hour.” Grayson paused, mischief across her face as she grinned at the two younger women. “That’s why I have planned for Violet to join you today.”  

“Excuse me?” – “What?!”  

Chapter Text

Vi inhaled the smoke from her cigarette against the stark Piltovian breeze. Multiple Enforcers and other employees from the Police Department gathered outside for their small break as well, Vi brutally contrasting with all of them and it wasn't only her appearance– while her cigarette was thick and smelled strongly, the Piltovians smoked from delicate pipes that emanated soft aromas Vi wouldn’t dare call tobacco.  

She sighed, exhaling the puff altogether while she had to wait on the pompous Enforcer to finish her ‘preparations’.   Yes, they had both been stunned at Grayson’s command to team up and explore the Zaunite docks together, and no, Vi was not looking forward to it, especially after Kiramman had basically pleaded her boss to allow her investigation be a solo activity right in front of her. With a stern look from the Sheriff and an indignantly huff from the younger officer– another one for the books– they had taken their leave from the office with the promise to do all they can.  

Then the taller woman had told Vi to stay put and wait outside so she could retrieve her detective necessities from her own office and probably brace herself for spending an entire day with Vi without her precious superior around to lift the sour atmosphere both women had implemented onto one another.  

“Are you quite done yet?” The posh accent obnoxiously pierced the air, right into Vi’s space.  

Vi boredly turned toward the noise, blowing the smoke in her direction. The woman remained in her tidy uniform and scrunched her face at the smell of Vi’s cigarette, but her usual brown shoulder bag had been replaced with a rectangular backpack instead, which Vi assumed contained her so called ‘necessities’. Then, Vi looked up and–  

“What the fuck’s that?”  

“What is what?”  

Vi pointed to the top of the officer’s head with the burning up object still in her hand. “Your fucking hat.”  

Kiramman rolled her eyes, defiantly folding her arms. “It is called a beret .”  

“It’s ridiculous.” Vi grinned. “ You look ridiculous.”  

The other woman scoffed, flat out ignoring Vi's insult. “Department’s guideline declared it the proper attire for jobs like this.” Then, she hurried off the steps of the building, whimsically skipping past Vi and not even bothering to wait for her to finish.  

“Follow me. We haven’t got all day.”  

Vi wasn’t one for complaining, really. She could suck up any demeaning comment or relent hardheaded arguments with practised ease. It was somewhat the ground rule when growing up with three younger siblings, so she’d barely bat an eye at irritable behaviour. But holy shit , Vi thought bitterly, this woman will be the death of me .  

Bored to death by some hot yet absolutely insufferable Enforcer– what a way to go.  

The woman had given her shit all day long; Varying from berating her so-called incompetence at being patient and professional to fussing about how the Zaunites at the dock weren’t of any help at all.  

Officer Kiramman and her had covered the entire precinct of Zaun’s northside harbour when the sun began to set. The uniform clad woman had shared her self-thought theories with Vi– that the warehouses along the docks were the perfect hideouts for large quantities of illegal substances and unsuspicious traffic. But after questioning basically every merchant that wandered the section and observing trades that involved liquid goods, Vi and the tall Enforcer hadn’t uncovered a single thing and thus made zero progress.  

It didn’t help that the other woman was an eyesore to the Zaunite vendors, dressed like the picture-perfect authority of Piltover that just screamed bothersome and wary. Vi had to intervene on various occasions where the dock workers almost seemed a bit too close to tossing the whole officer into the River Pilt. They weren’t exactly pliant– not with officer Kiramman, at least– but Vi had always been a smooth talker, and so when she had taken over the conversations from the prissy woman, the merchants had told them everything they knew, which was absolutely near-nothing.  

“What a waste of time.” Vi sat down on the sturdy crates outside the very last warehouse they had needed to visit. She repressed the noises of her protesting empty stomach. They had been at it since morning, given that the determined officer hadn’t even thought of introducing a break. How typical . She looked to her left where the absurdly tall woman stood straight as a pole, flipping through her little notebook as if it contained the winning numbers of the lottery. “Hey, Princess, you want to grab some dinner?”  

Vi frowned when the officer didn’t respond immediately with her usual snappy retort or a chide on her usage of pet names, but steadfast letting those cerulean eyes of hers scan the pages of her notes. A whirlpool of emotions swirled within those bright orbs of hers, which Vi found herself getting mesmerized by, wondering what was happening inside that rigorous brain of hers. Then– and Vi almost fell of the crates in utmost surprise– the woman slammed the notebook flat against her forehead.  

“I’m missing something.” Was all she murmured.  

“Hey, take it easy, you’ve worked all day and you’re probably hungry and dehydrated–”  

“–No, I am looking at it wrong.” Officer Kiramman said and clicked her tongue, tucking the face-palm object back into the bundle strapped to her leg that began anxiously bouncing in her stance. “It has to be here. It can’t be wrong.”  

I can’t be wrong.  

And even after a whole day of rolling eyes and sighing at the other woman, Vi now felt pity at how frantic Kiramman became with the failure of today’s inspection.  

Vi cleared her throat hesitantly. “Perhaps you’ve just miscalculated. It happens, y’know?”  

The girl almost whipped her head around so fast, Vi worried she’d snap her neck in the process. “It doesn’t. Not with this.”  

Vi groaned out in exasperation, no longer able to endure the officer’s unbearable behaviour. “What the hell is your issue?! You’ve been on an insane ego trip all day.”  

“ Me?” The woman retorted in disbelief. “ You are the one acting like you don’t give a single damn about literally anything. My apologies that I actually have a job to do.”  

“Not really good at it, are you?” The Enforcer’s eyes narrowed into tiny slits at the insult, opening her mouth to defend herself, but Vi quickly shut her down. “You can’t even talk normally to some vendors and it’s like you don’t even realize how much everyone here fucking hates your guts. You’re so above it all– it's fucking insufferable.”  

“That’s not my fault,” the officer stated simply. “They don’t want to talk because I’m wearing a badge. I can’t exactly help them if they don’t want to cooperate, can I?”  

“Is that not what I’ve making up for all day?” Vi grunted. “They just don’t know anything! God, you can’t always be right.”   

“Well, I have to be!”  

The two women stared each other down, heavy breathing between them. Vi clenched her jaw shut when the taller girl stubbornly averted her gaze. Dear Janna, she was so pissed off right now, and yet it was more about the fact that she couldn’t force herself to be fully angry with the Enforcer, even though she wanted to be. But when she looked like some kicked puppy, Vi didn’t have it in her to resume the argument.  

“Listen,” Vi told her firmly, which returned the officer’s attention, “We can come back another time, it’s no big deal. What is it that they say–Looking at something twice will give you a new perspective, yeah? You might not be wrong, but if you are, it’s fine too.”  

The woman slightly tilted her head– adorably so, in Vi’s begrudging opinion– and looked at her like she was crazy, or perhaps it was in confusion as to why Vi was suddenly trying to calm her down rather than curse her out some more. Kiramman softened a bit and her foot stopped the constant rhythm of tapping the pavement. “I-I suppose.”  

She wore the same expression she had shortly shown on Progress Day, when she looked youthful and pretty for once, rather than cold and stern. She was looking at Vi with wide blue eyes as if she was begging– pleading for something. It made Vi want to take care of her, in a way she couldn’t quite place.  

Vi bit back a noise. “Well, do you want to grab some food? I know a tent if you’re not already keen on fleeing back to Topside.”  

Officer Kiramman looked like she was weighing the options, eyes darting anywhere but Vi’s face. Gloved hands cupped navy clad elbows, almost making the woman seem so much smaller. Then, when blue met grey again, she relented. “Fine. Show the way.”  

“ This is where you’ve dragged me to?”  

Vi snorted at the contortion of her face at the sight of Jericho’s establishment. “He used to have a stall in the Lanes, but booming business resulted in this new place.”  

It was nothing special– just a small restaurant not too far from the Last Drop itself. There were enough seats and tables in his vicinity, filled to the brim with customers, but Jericho would always keep a spot clear for her, his most loyal one. With a simple wave of his enormous chopping knife, he’d assigned Vi and her cop a cozy table in the corner. But it wasn’t Jericho’s place that the officer had sneered at, or the thick aroma of fish and meat– no, it was the other guests. Jericho’s was right across the street from Babette’s and that meant the shop was usually occupied by many of Babette’s employees and clients.  

It was safe to say that the Enforcer was extremely out of place.  

“How charming,” officer Kiramman deadpanned and picked up the sticky menu in front of her with slightly shaking hands. “I have no clue what any of this is.”  

“You trust me?” Vi smirked.  

‘No’ is what the rigid woman had replied in first instance, but they still ended up with the same dish anyways, which Vi was currently devouring, not even bothering with cutlery unlike the posh officer. Vi cheekily observed her attempts to eat the slob in an appropriate manner, laughing when one of the greasy slugs fell off her fork with a ‘plop’ back into her half-full bowl.  

“You eat like a weirdo,” Vi pointed out, pushing her own finished bowl away.  

The frustrating woman narrowed her eyes. “Says you . You eat like a brute.”  

“Zaunite customs. Get used to them.”  

The officer sighed deeply before removing one of her gloves. A manicured hand reached for the slug that had fallen and she scrunched her nose at the first contact of skin and grease. As fast– and graciously– as she could, the Piltovian stuffed her face and swallowed the piece down in one gulp.  

Vi was sure she was grinning a bit too widely, because the woman across her table scolded, “Don’t look at me like that while I’m eating. It is improper.”  

“You need to enjoy the flavour, you know? Not just consume the entire thing at once.”  

“I did savour it.” The officer squirmed in her seat under Vi’s watchful gaze. “It’s... not that bad.”  

“But?” Vi pried.  

“It tastes like it’s very unhealthy.” As if to confirm her comment, she wiped the grease from her hand with a napkin and demurely dapped her mouth with it.  

“Oh? Well, seeing what your figure looks like, I’m pretty sure it can’t hurt your glutes that much.” The officer visibly reddened at the casually given remark, hiding her burning cheeks behind the napkin still on her lips. Vi felt that familiar playfulness awaken within herself, so daringly she added, “I mean, I do like what I see, if you get me.”  

“You’re just saying that.” The girl’s voice was reduced to an unsure whisper, but her eyes visibly lightened up at Vi.  

“Nope. I’ve been eyeing you all day, Princess, and it definitely wasn’t the bratty attitude that kept me around. Though, I could make a case for that.” She boyishly smirked.  

Her flirty demeanor could either result in a bitch-slap– some women did in fact not appreciate Vi’s forwardness sometimes– or it could result in a very satisfying evening, which was the outcome Vi all too happily gambled on time and time again. The officer did frankly appear more like those types that would pour a drink over her head rather than indulge her, but Vi was willing to risk it all.  

The Enforcer slowly lowered the napkin, her face unreadable. But then she bit her lip, and Vi thanked all the gods of Runeterra in a silent prayer.

She could barely recall how they’d gotten here– something about stumbling back inside her sister’s penthouse, a quick comment by the tall woman that she hadn’t expected Vi to live in such a place, and wandering hands beneath a tight uniform. They hadn’t waited for clothes to come off– it wasn’t necessary for Vi. No, she cared more about her insatiable need to just get the officer in her bed, so she could have her way with her, before they parted.  

So that’s why Vi had impatiently tugged the greyish trousers and lacy underwear down her long legs, until the waistband rested just above her knees. She tossed that stupid beret somewhere aside, coerced the officer down on all fours by the edge of Vi’s bed and settled behind her naked thighs and bare ass. Vi had taken a moment to relish the sight and let the gratifying victory of reducing the uptight Enforcer into a whining mess wash over her, before she strapped one of her sizeable toys to herself.  

It wasn’t her favourite per se– that one she saved for those longer nights, where she’d savour the girls until they would both pass out from exhaustion. But it was different with the officer tonight. Vi was sure this was going to be one of those ‘quick and efficient’ beddings that she occasionally did for far too unavailable women with tight schedules. Those never ended up staying, anyways, so why even bother?  

No, her favourite strap-on blueprint was made during a drunken night, where she and Ekko had been wasted to the point of acting like a pair of teenage boys at the thought of creating a dick that would adjust to Vi’s body like her prosthetic arm did. Even in his stupor, his genius had superseded and he managed to sketch and build the entire thing within hours. Although he’d grown embarrassed by the time he had sobered up, Vi was eternally grateful. After all, it was her most prized– and used– possession.  

But not tonight. Vi didn’t feel like the woman now residing on her bed had been deserving enough for it.  

Not yet, at least.  

The half-unclothed Piltie perched on the edge of the mattress breathed heavily, waiting in anticipation for Vi to finish preparing herself. The harness sat tightly on her jeans and the faux cock that she generously lubed up pressed through the O-ring in front of her crotch. She idly played with the tip, stroking the officer’s lower lips in languid motions, before the woman underneath her finally opened her mouth.  

“Just do your job already.”  

“Oh, feisty, are we?” Vi husked and entered just the tip. The woman was tight– Vi could barely access the next few inches. She gripped her small waist, making sure to dig her fingers into the fabric of her uniform so that she’d bruise the skin beneath and tried to sink in further. “Fuck, you’re so tight. You’ve never taken cock before, have you?”  

The choked back whimper told Vi enough. A cocky grin formed on her lips.  

“I’m flattered I’m your first.” Vi circled her hips to those words, teasing the Enforcer’s spread entrance which coaxed a hitched-up gasp from her. “Don’t worry, Princess, I promise you’ll be plenty loosened up when I’m done with you.”  

And with that, Vi bottomed out with one swift and brutal thrust. The Piltovian officer clutched the sheets and yelped at the intrusion, her body shoved forward until Vi dragged her back onto an immediate steady pace of deep and merciless thrusts. There was no time to waste tonight. The woman was practically bouncing on Vi’s strap with the way Vi was manhandling her. It seemed like Kiramman had meekly adjusted well enough for.  

There had been no foreplay, no kissing, no soothing or affirming words. They both soundlessly agreed to meet the other’s expectation and that was just that. This moment was solely to blow off some steam. For both of them. They’d been frustrated– Vi with the cop’s behaviour and the other girl with her own disappointment, but mutual frustration nonetheless. Vi had seen it on the Enforcer’s face and in the willingness she showed when Vi had suggestively offered their current activity. The dainty woman wanted– no, needed this.  

Who was Vi to deny her silent request?  

“Where’s all that snide now, huh?” Vi grunted in exertion, watching the silicone repeatedly disappear into wetness. “You’re so fucking eager.”  

The squelching noises of velvety walls greedily taking her length and their combined panting sounded obscenely loud in the otherwise quiet room. Vi was in a drunken haze, fixated on the girl’s cunt swallowing her cock over and over again. She basically autopiloted the harsh pumping of her hips. Meanwhile, the officer was trying to keep her voice down, mere whimpers and puffs escaping past her lips– much to Vi’s annoyance.  

“Let me hear you, Cupcake,” Vi groaned as she rested her metallic palm on the delicious small of the Enforcer’s back that was still clothed. “Only I can make you feel this good. Isn’t that right?”  

“ Mhm–” the officer started to moan, only to suck in the following embarrassing proclamation.  

Vi let the platinum hand travel from the small of her back until she reached the back of her neck, pressing the taller woman down and essentially mounted her to ram into her relentlessly. “None of that shit, pretty girl. Say it out loud .”  

“Yes!” The woman finally cried back, obedience rooting in place. “You’re so good! You’re so d-deep .”  

Vi punctuated the last uttered word with a particular hard thrust. She drank in the pride of absolutely dismantling the posh officer into a desperate mess. She’d longed the entire day– no, ever since they first met– to wipe that everlasting scowl from her perfect face. Here she was, finally having the opportunity to do so in the most erotic way possible.  

And she was fucking loving it.  

She started rutting into the woman, the slaps from their fucking growing in volume as Vi put more force behind them. In this position, the woman beneath her was completely at Vi’s mercy, only able to accept whatever Vi was willing to give her. She watched the Piltie grasp and release her sheets along to each heavy thrust, forearms and the side of her cheek flat on the bed.  

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Vi managed to get out at the sight of her. She climbed atop the writhing woman, pressing her entirely against the mattress, but never giving her any rest as she kept on fucking her. A drop of salt slid down the side of her face, into the crook of her collarbone. And then she felt it.  

The massive scar on her skin lit up a bright blue beneath her leather jacket and started to throb in a borderline painful manner. These flare-ups happened whenever she’d put her body through excessive amount of strain, which was normal when having sex. So, Vi wasn’t particularly thrown off by it, but it did take her some gritting of teeth to power through the sting. To mitigate the feeling of her muscles burning, she wrapped her arms around the officer’s torso, enveloping the taller woman in a strong embrace so that she could more easily drive her back onto her dick.   

“You’re taking me so well, Princess. So pink and open for me.”  

Officer Kiramman had resorted to high-pitched noises, squealing when Vi started to hump her ass in short and rapid-fire thrusts. A refined skill of hers that was well renowned around the streets of Zaun. The way she tightened around Vi’s cock signalled her upcoming peak.  

“You’re gonna come for me, you hear me?”  

The officer bit her lip and nodded against drenched sheets. Vi lowered her biological arm and pressed the pads of her fingers to the woman’s clit, rubbing it fast and hard until she heard a loud and whiny cry. The girl shuddered, pussy clamping around the strap so much that Vi could barely move. She held her hips down firmly against plump ass, giving the officer some reprieve as she was coming, all whilst whispering filth into her flushed ears.  

When the hold on her cock lessened, Vi gave a few last lazy thrusts, relishing the woman’s climax as long as she selfishly could and eventually stopped when a gloved hand pushed her back with a tiny breathless grunt of complaint.  

They both wordlessly got up and Vi removed the strap. She laid down on her bed, an elbow holding her up sideways as she watched officer Kiramman sheepishly tug her pants and panties back up. She looked in complete disarray; a few blue strands had fallen from her bun which now framed her pink face and the red choker sat askew on her sweaty neck. Vi grinned when shaky hands reclasped golden buckles of her belt, but received nothing back from the woman who was currently trying to ignore her as if Vi hadn’t just been seven inches inside her.  

But Vi was able to catch a glimpse of her empty blue eyes. The girl seemed frantic, just like before, but this time Vi could only describe the look as dissociative. Sudden worry struck her.  

“Hey, you alright?” Vi asked softly.  

“Hmm, yes. Perfectly fine.” The response came instantly, stiff and sharp, eyes forevermore refusing to meet Vi’s.  

“I wasn’t too rough on you or anything? Cause–”  

“–I said I’m fine,” Kiramman cut her off. She gathered her unkempt hair and redid her bun, retrieving the white beret from somewhere on Vi’s ruined sheets. Instead of wearing it though, she shoved it into her backpack that was previously thrown in the corner of Vi’s bedroom. Then, she finally turned to face Vi. “Th– Uhm, I appreciated today. It was pleasant.”  

Vi only hummed back. The sex had been simple and effective. Nothing new, exactly.  

The Piltover girl hastily fastened some of the golden buttons on her vest that had gotten loose and at last smoothed down her uniform with a raise of her chin. “I’m certain Sheriff Grayson will inform you on what will follow when you visit the station again tomorrow.”  

“This a daily thing then?” Vi asked smugly.  

“ This , no.” Officer Kiramman swung the backpack over her shoulders. “But the investigation is ongoing and there’s work to do. So, if you were implying that, then yes.”  

Vi muttered a ‘if you say so’ under her breath with a roll of her eyes. The Enforcer stood rigidly in her bedroom, somewhat awkward from the situation and otherwise perfect as she always so desperately wanted to appear. With a nod and turn on her heels, the blue-haired woman briskly walked out of Vi’s room.   

Vi fell back onto her bed. She was slightly dizzy from their rough fuck session and her thighs were burning from exhaustion. The lightening scar alongside the left side of her body that troubled her halfway through the sex had dimmed as fast as it had begun and simply left a faint but bearable ache in its aftermath. It was all worth it, of course. A smile crept onto her face. She hadn’t even known how badly she’d wanted the prim and proper Piltie until she'd already gotten in her pants.  

But that smile quickly faded when two muffled voices greeted each other in the living room. Seemed like her sister had now officially made acquaintances with the Enforcer, because as soon as Vi heard the front door shut close, Powder barged into her room.  

“Really?!” She exclaimed loudly. Vi remained on bed, hands behind her head as she glanced over to her sister. “I am so gonna sibling-divorce you!”  

Chapter Text

The next morning had been somewhat awkward. Breakfast was eerily quiet, whilst Ekko’s gaze hopped from one sister to the other, sheepishly sipping at his mug. Even if Vi had opted to act oblivious to last night’s events, Powder hadn’t even bothered to hide her ick about walking in on some Topsider cop walking out of Vi’s bedroom. Her younger sister sat opposite of Vi, face impassable, chewing her toast bitterly as she stared Vi down like only a little sister could. Among her many complaints, she’d made a comment on the fact that Vi, once again, did not know the name of the woman she’d sated. 

“I know her last name, though,” Vi tried to argue, mouth full of scrambled eggs. “It’s Kiramman.” 

At that, Ekko spat out his coffee. Powder’s eyebrows reached her blue hairline, mouth agape and the grumpiness swept from her pale face. 

“You’re joking, right?” Ekko coughed. 

Vi slowly swallowed back her bite. “Why would I be?” 

“You don’t know of the Kirammans?” Ekko asked. “They’re like, the oldest and most prestigious house of Piltover.” 

“Mad rich and influential too. I think their matriarch has held a chair in the council since Piltover was founded,” Powder added. 

Vi blinked. So that was why the officer flinched when Vander had recognized her name. It did make sense given the exterior of the woman. She definitely fit the picture of ‘wealthy and esteemed’. Still, Vi was dumbfounded by the revelation. 

“What? Why would someone like her work as an Enforcer?” 

Powder shrugged. “Beats me. I do think it’s hilarious you fucked the heiress without knowing she is one. Shows how much you care about those girls of yours, doesn’t it?” 

Vi reddened. She didn’t even have it in her to give some retort, because her sister was right... Well, was she?  

The thing was; Vi did care. At least, she thought she did, to some extent. Her mind had been occupied by the uptight officer. Her constant switch between hot and cold was something Vi couldn’t shake, and it made her wonder– what exactly was going on with her? Not only had she looked like she was constantly on the verge of a mental breakdown, she’d repeatedly shut Vi down, contrasting the fleeting moments in which she did try to allure Vi. 

It was screwing with her brain and Vi did not like it at all. 

“Earth to Vi,” Ekko said, causing Vi to jump up from her thoughts. “How did it even happen?” 

“They work together now,” Powdered answered for her. “Vi’s trynna be undercover and shit.” 

Vi sighed. “It’s not like that. I’m just helping out with some investigation.” 

“Must be one hell of an investigation,” Ekko chuckled, taking a slurp from his coffee. 

“Listen, it’s– she was just going through it, okay? We’ve both had a rough day and she just... cozied up to me. Went to Jericho’s with me and everything. I didn’t expect for it to happen at all. Hell, I didn’t even want to spend the day with her in the first place.” 

“So, now what? You’re gonna court the Kiramman heir?” Powder teased, the anger from the start of the morning entirely relinquished. “If you do, please invite us to a family dinner or something. We miss Mr. Kiramman.” 

Vi’s eyes widened at her little sister. “Wait, you guys know her dad?” 

Ekko nodded as if it were the most mundane thing on earth and didn’t completely throw Vi off. “The dude is a sucker for medical discoveries. Imagine his face when we told him we made a prosthetic that mimics a biological body part.” 

“We met him at some inventor fundraiser in Piltover,” Powder explained. “You know, the one you refused to attend, cause you, and I quote, ‘would rather lose to uncle Silco in the ring than mingle one evening with some stick-up-the-ass Pilties’. Funny how that worked out, now that you snogged one with the biggest stick of them all.” 

“Damn, you guys really know how to dump all sorts of shit on a girl.” Vi scratched the back of her head and dragged the hand across her face with a deep sigh. “And I still have to go meet her today.” 

“Yeah, have fun with that, detective Vi.”  

Vi was let through on sight. She walked down the same pathway toward the separate offices in the back, but this time her cocky attitude had been traded for a more cautious one. The prospect of facing the officer she’d thoroughly fucked the previous night was something that started to nag at her. It wasn’t nervousness– although having the Sheriff present with them wasn’t exactly a comforting thought either– but Vi didn’t know how she should approach officer Kiramman. How the rigid woman would treat her . 

But it seemed like she had nothing to worry about. 

“Sheriff,” Vi greeted when she had swung the door of Grayson’s office open to reveal the single occupant. 

“Good morning, Violet,” Grayson said, standing by a fancy coffee machine in the corner of the room. “Want some?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” 

Grayson brew her drink for her and gave her a mug with the Enforcer’s emblem on it. “I assume you’re wondering where our young Kiramman is.” 

Vi almost blushed. She didn’t quite enjoy the fact that the old Sheriff had so easily read the disappointment from her face at the absence of her deputy. So, instead she just blew the steam of her coffee, shrugging her shoulders. 

“She’s at the shooting range.” That got Vi to look up at the older woman. Grayson seemed to understand her shy intrigue. “That funny-looking backpack she owns; It’s for her rifle. She’d gone straight to practice this morning, which is atypical of her to be fair.” 

“She likes to shoot?” Vi pried. 

“Likes? Hah, she was born to shoot, kid.” Grayson’s amusement was apparent in her voice, a distinct faraway glint in her brown eyes. “Always done it better than me. It’s how I met her too, and probably why she’s here now.” 

Vi greedily consumed the information. Knowing that the standoffish woman still had her own silly hobby was a very entertaining insight for Vi. 

“How come it’s not normal for her to do that if it’s something she enjoys?” 

Grayson’s smile visibly faltered. “Kiramman is very punctual. Prefers work to be done first and prioritizes her cases and patrols over anything. Nowadays she only shoots when... Well, something is bothering her.” 

Vi gulped. Guilt poked at her stomach. There shouldn’t be any instance for her to feel that way, really, but Vi still couldn’t help it. Couldn’t ever help it. She and guilt were two peas in a pod. 

“I-I think it has to do with yesterday,” Vi started hesitantly and was immediately encouraged by Grayson to continue with a firm nod of her head. “The harbour was a dead end, which really frustrated her. And she said something about ‘having to be right’.” 

“Hmm, that does sound like her.” Grayson sat down at her desk, her chin propped up on her gloved hands. The older woman remained silent for a bit, the gears turning in her head. Vi lowered herself in the same chair as yesterday, awaiting Grayson’s next words. 

“She wasn’t always like that, you know.” The comment startled Vi. “She used to be a sweet child. Very optimistic and cheerful.” 

Now that didn’t really sound like the Kiramman that Vi knew. The cop was far from optimistic and cheerful, and Vi was more than curious how the girl had ended up the way she was. Luckily for her, Grayson seemed keen on sharing more. 

“The past few years have been tough for her, and no matter how hard I try, I just seem to lose her more and more.” The Sheriff sounded devastated. Vi could tell that Grayson cared deeply for her deputy, beyond just coworkers. “She works so hard because she wants to take over my title when the time comes. Of course, there’s no better option than her, I know that and the whole department knows that. But... in some selfish way, I don’t want to burden her with it.” 

Vi let the woman take a break from speaking, simply trying to be as comforting as she could be. “I understand that. It’s not a bad thing.” 

“She already puts herself aside so much, I’m afraid the whole Sheriff thing will consume her entirely.” 

“Like an act?” Vi tried. 

“Like it’s another mask for her to use,” Grayson stated grimly. “I won’t tell you all the personal details of her life, but her childhood has been complicated. She lost someone dear to her and ever since it happened, she doesn’t like to show vulnerability. It’s made her closed off to everyone in her life and she’s hell bound on one thing only.” 

The light bulb in Vi’s head activated. “Becoming Sheriff.” 

“It is destroying her, but I fear it may destroy her even more if she doesn’t achieve it.” Grayson sighed deeply. “Failure is not an option for her. It has never been.” 

“I can see your dilemma.” Vi said to try and lighten the mood. The corner of Grayson’s mouth lifted upward slightly. “I think I kinda understand why she was being like that yesterday.” 

“Explain.” 

“Well,” Vi awkwardly began. How was she even supposed to cover all of it? The uptight officer had been a rollercoaster of conflicting emotions yesterday. Most of the time Vi couldn’t even surmise how she would react. “You could really tell the frustration she was carrying with her. She almost appeared... manic? Just not her regular self and far more anxious. I didn’t really know how to handle it at first, but I offered her dinner and she was surprisingly fine during it.” 

Vi bit her lip. Their argument at the docks hadn’t even been the cause of Kiramman’s worst state of mind that day. She debated whether to continue or not, wanting to maintain both of their images, but with how honest and vulnerable Grayson had been, Vi found it only fair to return the favour. 

“Does she disassociate often?” 

Grayson was baffled at the direct question, but it seemed like Vi had hit the right nail. “I’ve seen it happen sometimes. If she does, then it must be under extreme circumstances.” 

“Well, she did it yesterday too. I don’t know if it’s something I did or–” 

“Violet,” Grayson interrupted her in a warm and soothing tone, “It has never got anything to do with others, I promise. She just cannot handle overwhelming situations such as a failed mission. Sometimes, when she has to make decisions that contradict her virtues, she crumbles. I know this, because I’ve seen it before, so don’t think you’re at fault.” 

Vi repressed that hole in her stomach, trying to find elation in Grayson’s words. They should’ve assured her. But as compassionate as someone like Vi was, her concern for the Piltovian girl that she swore she hated only grew. “Okay, chief.” 

“Good,” Grayson said in finality. “Now that’s been discussed, I’m sorry to say there’s no task today. I’ll instruct Kiramman to take some rest, I’m sure you understand.” 

Vi nodded, but couldn’t supress the wave of discontentment. “Is there anything else?” 

Grayson seemed to ponder on it. The wrinkles on her face deepened as she slowly came to a conclusion, eyes of caution studying Vi. “I’m going to show you a file on the case and I don’t want you to feel confronted by it, got it?” 

A familiar map was retrieved from the desk’s drawer. Vi realized it was the same one Grayson had given Vander back at the exposition. She took the stack of papers with steady hands, but before she could open them, Grayson spoke up. 

“It’s nothing personal, kid. I do hope you understand it better than Vander did.” 

Vi was confused by her warning, yet curiosity got the better of her. Her sight fell onto the first few pages, the ones she’d previously stolen a look at, and observed the images of Shimmer and various empty warehouses located in Zaun. Then, she arrived at one specific photograph that made her suck in a cold breath. No wonder Vander had scrutinized the investigation. 

“Uncle Silco?” 

The Last Drop was buzzing. Night life in Zaun had always been prominent, something Vi cherished deeply about her home. Customers were chatting and laughing loudly, slamming beers on table tops and dancing along to the ratty jukebox they kept near the entrance. She smiled at the sight of it all. 

Her shift hadn’t been particularly interesting. A peaceful afternoon followed by a hectic evening, the typical routine for their busy bar. The only difference was that Vi now held the knowledge of those damn files. Her uncle was a suspect in the Shimmer case. It made Vi’s stomach coil until she felt physically sick. She should’ve listened to Vander. 

She was aware of Silco’s past. He had his reputation among Zaun and it hadn’t always been sunshine and rainbows between him and Vander. But the two brothers made up shortly after Vi got gravely injured. It was an emotional reconciliation, deepfelt apologies and bright promises made to heal their family and secure the future of Zaun together again. Ever since that, their bond was unbreakable, stronger than ever. 

So, there was simply no way in hell that she’d continue to participate in something that could sabotage her family. Not when Silco was on thin ice with Topsiders. 

“Violet.” Speaking of the devil. The man with sleek black hair and a big facial scar around a blind eye called her from the back. “We need a refill on the kegs, could you help me out?” 

Today she was scheduled with Silco to hold down the fort. Vander was on a supply run with Benzo for Ionian wine, which took them to Piltover’s air docks for the day where all imports arrived. Powder was absent too, because she had buried herself in her work. Something about a better design of a ‘motorbike’. One of the Piltovian inventors had shown off their own prototype on Progress Day, which Powder had called infinitely lame, and decided to develop it further so that it was powered by gas rather than kinetic. Ultimately, Vi would need to test it, as she always did, encouraged by Powder’s words that it was such a ‘lady-killer’ vibe. 

“Sure,” Vi replied to her uncle, and crouched down to unscrew the kegs from their taps. Empty or not, Silco had always been a bit too scrawny for the heavier workload of their job and Vi didn’t mind to compromise for him. It did keep her fit, after all. 

“Full kegs are ready in the back,” Silco said and gave her a pat on her shoulder. He hadn’t always been fond of her. His affection was always directed more toward Powder. Over the years, though, he did warm up more to Vi, and even preferred to work with her behind the bar. In that case, Powder was a bit too loud and lazy for his liking, not that it had any impact on his love for her outside of the professionalism. “Let me help you.” 

They both scurried down the stairs to the storage room. Silco took over the empty kegs from her to stash them away for the trash, while Vi took it upon her to lift two new barrels of beer back up. She opened the door at the top with a swift kick of her boot and hauled the kegs toward the bar in the middle. 

After she set the alcohol down to screw them onto their respective taps and raised to her feet again, she was met a fairly familiar but somewhat unwelcome sight. 

Officer Kiramman was sitting at her bar . 

A chill went down her spine. 

It wasn’t because she was enthralled to see her. No, it was because the young deputy quite literally slumped on her stool and slouched all over the counter top. Even when Vi had been ploughing into her from behind, her back had been perfectly arched, like she had to maintain that straight posture of hers at all times. Vi scolded herself slightly for thinking about that specific memory, given that the woman in front of her looked gravely out of it. 

Her normally neatly worn uniform was unbuttoned so that the white blouse beneath it showed entirely. The red choker and frilly ornament had been removed, as well as her black leather gloves. But she still had that same bun and sideswept strand of hair, though it looked more dishevelled than usual. 

Vi opened her mouth to ask her what she was doing here, but Kiramman was ahead of her. 

“I want something strong, please,” Kiramman spoke in her slouch, chin resting on folded arms, eyes unfocused and adamant from meeting Vi’s. 

Vi promptly shut her mouth again and surveyed the cop. A small voice in her head urged her to not serve the disoriented officer anything alcoholic, but she also shouldn’t let personal feelings get in the way of her task at hand, which was to pour drinks for customers. And technically, the dark-haired woman was just another customer for now. 

Vi quietly ducked under the bar to handpick one of their more stronger liquors and poured a fair amount of charcoal-burnt whiskey into a glass.  

“Hope you can handle this one,” She mumbled. 

The Enforcer began to sit up from her downward position and observed the bronze drink that was placed in front of her. And just like the savoury slugs from Jericho’s, the hard liquor was consumed in one quick swig. Vi was impressed– startled too– that the Kiramman girl remained poker faced while downing the drink in one go, its strong taste seemingly not affecting her at all. Other guests would often groan at a single sip, some even spat it out altogether, and those had been Zaunites too. So, Vi hadn’t expected someone from Piltover, of all places, to be able to handle the Last Drop’s self-brewed whiskey. 

The girl simply shoved the empty glass back toward Vi. “Another one.”  

Vi, with bottle still in hand, could only concur, and refilled her glass. She stood still in awe and concern when the second load was thrown back just as easily. This time, however, blue eyes did look up to catch Vi’s troubled stare. 

“Are you... are you available? Uh, tonight, I mean.” It was uncharacteristic for the prim and proper officer to stammer, so Vi didn’t even fully comprehend what the woman was implying at first. When the realization finally hit her, Vi didn’t greet it with excitement. She furrowed her brows at her and snatched the empty glass away.  

“I’m working, ” She replied sturdily. 

Vi had hoped her distant answer would be enough for the Enforcer to understand, but the woman didn’t seem to grasp her intonation at all.  

“After your shift, perhaps?” 

Vi sighed, grabbing the rag that rested on her shoulder to clean the empty glass, before slinging it back on. “Thought you said it wouldn’t be up for repetition.” 

The Kiramman girl got flustered at her remark and didn’t seem to know how to respond to Vi’s indifference. Instead, she tapped the glass that Vi had just dried, signalling her silent request of another fill, which Vi begrudgingly indulged her with. The woman didn’t finish her drink in one swoop this time, but took a small sip and let her restless fingers cling around the cool glass. 

For someone who never missed the opportunity for deft clapbacks and was always eager to put Vi in her place, the woman stayed uncharacteristically tame. It made Vi feel unsure how to approach her. She was used to the rigidness and cold behaviour– even enjoyed it for most parts. Vi could easily handle her in that sense. But with the officer’s sudden switch, Vi tensed at the surrounding fragility. 

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” She spoke up. 

The officer jolted at her words and disappointment painted her angular face. It seemed like the girl hadn’t expected Vi to flat-out reject her. It took a moment for her to collect herself, embarrassment coating her cheeks, before she decidedly nodded and took a big swig of her drink to finish it entirely. 

“I shouldn’t have come here,” The Piltovian girl stated coldly. 

That got Vi to start seething in her boots. Once again, the Kiramman girl resorted to that dumb ramrod attitude of hers, which worked Vi up each time she did so unexpectedly. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“That I was mistaken.” 

The sentence was short and calculated– vague, so that the Kiramman girl didn’t need to fully expose herself. It was that hot and coldness about her that haunted Vi’s mind constantly, which made her feel confused and frustrated and oh so maddened about the uptight officer. For her to come to the Last Drop, obviously to seek Vi out, get drunk and to ask Vi for another round of their previous night together, was a sheer audacity Vi wouldn’t dare call anyone out for. 

“You think you can get anything you want, huh? That everything needs to go your way,” Vi almost growled. “I’m not your plaything, Princess.”  

The officer opened her mouth in offense and was about to snarl something back, but the low creak of a door opening from somewhere behind Vi made the tall woman’s eyes widen in surprise and snap her jaw shut. Vi grew anxious at her expression and quickly turned to spot what she had seen. 

Her uncle was shown in the door opening atop the staircase that led to their storage-and-office space down below. He was carrying a crate of new glasses for the bar and didn’t seem to notice the two women looking at him. Vi’s heart began to hammer in her chest when she understood the dire situation. The pounding dampened her senses as she warily spun back around to the Kiramman girl. 

“Silco,” The blue-haired cop said resolute as she stood up from her stool, before Vi sternly stepped in her line of sight with him. 

“I need you to back off,” Vi warned her. 

“And why would I do that?” The posh accent flowed with animosity. “He's a prime suspect in our search–” 

“–He’s my uncle.” 

They stood there; Vi with her fists clenched tightly, her shoulders squared, the rapid thumping of her heart increasing with the second, and the officer with her rigid posture back in place and critically scanning Vi’s face. The woman exhaled deeply through her regal nose, nostrils flaring, and it seemed like her uncle had finally noticed the upheaval the two women were causing at the bar. 

“You two ladies doing okay?” The question was more meant for Vi, given the firm hand Silco had placed on her stiffened shoulder. He perhaps thought that Vi simply had the unfortunate event of dealing with yet another rude customer and had come over to protect his niece. Then, his grip on her tightened. He’d realized the uniform the woman before them was wearing. “You a cop?” 

Vi shrugged his hand off, shooting a glare at the officer. “I got this, Silco. Go back downstairs.” 

“Not if she’s bothering you, Violet.” Silco’s voice was rough. He’d always been guarded against Enforcers, especially since the force had been purely Piltovian back in his days. He didn’t exactly have the best experience with them. Vi knew he had been chased and harassed by them for ages. Even before him and Vander had their fallout. 

“It is not her that concerns me.” Officer Kiramman told him directly and Vi wished the woman would just shut up and– “It is you whom I seek.” 

Silco kind of just gaped at the Enforcer in confusion. Vi picked up on him squirming behind her, stricken by the atmosphere, so Vi quickly regarded the officer instead, 

“Guess what, Kiramman, office hours are over, you’re not on the job here.” Vi placed her hands flat on the counter top and leaned forward, so she’d subject some sort of authority onto the girl. “I suggest you leave our establishment.” 

Ocean blue eyes that had previously looked so serene and wishful for Vi back at the docks grew cold in an instance. The woman stubbornly held Vi’s gaze, bristling at the fact she was practically being thrown out of her bar. But Vi refused to back down and ease up on her reprimand toward the officer. Nonetheless, it was a torturous moment for Vi. She felt something start to gnaw in the crevice of her chest upon witnessing the change of attitude in the navy-clad girl. 

Sure, she’d looked absolutely miserable when Vi first saw her slumped at her bar, and Vi would never admit that the insufferable officer affected her in ways she couldn’t describe, but seeing her like that twisted Vi’s mind. Tonight, they hadn’t had that hostility that usually lingered between them, even if the officer’s suggestion of sleeping together again was not something Vi appreciated or wanted to humour. The Kiramman girl had shown a glimpse of vulnerability, something that even Sheriff Grayson had told Vi did never happen, and Vi wanted so badly to just make her suffering go away, even though the woman did nothing but piss her off each time they met. So, Vi had meekly complied to her order of beverages in a weak attempt to soothe the Piltovian. There was just something about the uptight officer that reeled Vi in. 

But Vi would always prioritize protecting her family. She’d always choose them first. 

Eventually, Vi decided to emphasize kicking the girl out with a dry thumb pointed in the direction of the bar’s entrance. The officer spared one last narrowed glance at Silco, then Vi, and reached for something inside of her uniform’s pocket. She haphazardly clattered a bunch of golden Cogs onto the bar top. An amount Vi was sure was far above the price she’d drunk for. 

Vi couldn’t even protest at the overpayment– partly, because the Enforcer had sped from the vicinity and partly because Vi couldn’t bear to watch her leave. All she could do was quietly gather the money to safely store it away. 

What she hadn’t noticed was how the pounding within her ribcage hadn’t stopped a single moment since it had started. A sudden surge of sharp pain coursed through her along the old scars that adorned her body. The bolt travelled from the ends of her lower back and the juncture of her neck and collarbone to where platinum was fused with the roughened-up flesh wound that once belonged to her obliterated arm. 

Vi sunk to her knees with an antagonizing groan, which got Silco to immediately drop down next to her. He was sputtering a bunch of things– worried questions, 'it’s going to be alright’ and ‘you’re safe’– but Vi couldn’t hear over the deafening drums in her ears akin to that avalanche she once felt suffocated by.

“Powder.” Was all she could wheeze out. “Get Powder.” 

Chapter Text

Vi bit the inside of her cheek.  

She was in Vander and Silco’s office, splayed out on top of the desk with her back exposed to the world. It wasn’t the most comfortable surface to have your chest pressed into, but it should make-do. When Powder and Ekko had arrived in a hurry, they’d immediately commanded Vi to lay down so they could take a look at her old injury that caused her to be in so much pain.  

The prodding and poking, she was used to. Flare-ups, like the one she had during her night with the uptight officer, were regular and familiar, not something that worried Vi enough to share with Powder, even if her little sister did demand it of her. But the agony that she just felt back at the bar was entirely new. It had felt like she was struck by lightning and electricity flowed through her veins. The feeling was frightening alike to what Vi could remember from that stupid explosion.  

“Could you flex your arm for me?”  

Vi grunted at the slight ache when she did what Ekko asked of her, but the prosthetic obediently moved along to her brain’s instruction.  

“It’s not a knock in the mechanical parts, then,” Ekko concluded. He had done most of the examination so far. Powder remained eerily still, gnawing at her nails as she watched her partner take care of her bigger sister. Vi felt guilty about making her feel that way.  

“Hey, little beanstalk, how are you holding up?” She asked her through a grit of teeth.  

Her little sister sniffled at the old nick name, shaking her head slightly. “Of course you’d ask me that when you’re the one going through it right now.”  

“Dad did say to never lose my core,” Vi joked half-heartedly. Not really that funny, seeing how Powder reacted to it with a furrow of sharp blue eyebrows.  

“This is serious, Vi,” Powder began, although not sternly, but caring. “There is something wrong with you and we can’t figure out what it is. The prosthetic seems to be working fine, so it’s not that. But other than that, we’re clueless and it’s scaring the crap out of me.”  

Vi swallowed at Powder’s tiny voice, her throat suddenly dry. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around her and never let go. To tell her that everything was going to be fine––That she was going to be fine. But they would both know it was a lie.  

“I might have an idea,” Ekko spoke up cautiously, which immediately was met with a pleading look from Powder, urging him to whip out yet another wonder of his from a magic hat. “I don’t think it’s the arm that malfunctioned. But maybe we should start looking at it the other way around?”  

“Like,” Powder implored, “Her arm isn’t wrongly reacting to her body, but it’s her body reacting to her arm?”  

“Exactly!”  

Vi stared dumbfounded at the two engineers. The thought that there was something wrong with her body, rather than her prosthetic– which could simply be replaced, compared to her whole body– was not exactly comforting. She didn’t know the intricate details of their craft or how the fake arm functioned this properly, and perhaps it was something she needed to let them know.  

“Hold on, help me out with this,” Vi spoke up, which got both of their attention, “I know you said this was called advanced bio-mech. But how exactly did you get it to work like this?”  

The young couple glanced at each other and then sheepishly turned to Vi.  

“Well,” Ekko started, hand cradling his white locs, “To be fair, we didn’t aim for it to work like that in the beginning. It was supposed to be a regular bionic prosthetic.”  

“We would put electrodes on your residual limb which is supported by a vest, like a brace, that carries our computer system,” Powder added to Ekko’s sentence as if they were two parts of the same brain. Vi assumed they were. “The artificial intelligence program would translate the signals of the electrodes into the movement you wanna make.”  

“When we gave you one of our earlier designs, you could move it and feel everything,” Ekko finished. “The crazy part was; We hadn’t even put any of the electrodes on you yet.”  

“Honestly, we just rolled with it.”  

Vi stared wide-eyed at them. She grew faintly less aware of the hard desk pressing against her front as she listened in disbelief to what they were saying. It had indeed been a wonder that Vi could work her metallic arm around like it was a part of her, just like she had been told repeatedly by obnoxious visitors on Progress Day. But the biggest mystery about it was why . Why could she direct the platinum limb? It was just a piece of metal, without Powder and Ekko’s smarts.   

Or, so she thought.  

“Remember we tried on multiple prototypes?” Powder asked and then disgruntled at Vi’s empty look. “Okay, of course you don’t.”  

“Hey, after 5 or 6 failed attempts, I kind of gave up focusing whenever you started to prick me with your screwdriver. Sue me.”  

Powder momentarily pinched the bridge of nose and just sighed. “Well, you didn’t react to the silicone one or the carbon fibre one, but when we tried the platinum one on you,” Powder whistled, “It was like it lit you up. Quite literally. Your scars lit up, like an eel, and boom, it worked.”  

“About that,” Ekko interceded, “We did try to theorize why your scars do that sometimes, but we never really understood any of it. Until I met up with Mr. Heimerdinger.”  

“You spoke with him about me?”  

“They talk about everything.” Powder rolled her eyes affectionately. “But yes, I guess the fluffball does give some necessary insights.”  

Ekko chuckled. “The explosion was caused by some sort of gem. A Hexgem, to be precise. Heimerdinger claimed it a dangerous variant of stored Arcane energy. You know, magic that the ancient mages used.”  

Vi hummed in recognition. She recalled some of the stories her mother used to tell her when she was little. History about how Piltover and Zaun came to existence after the Rune War that impacted most of Runeterra at its time. Arcane and mages had become taboo after that. Like Heimerdinger said; dangerous and a must be avoided topic.  

“He thinks,” Ekko continued, “That when the blow impacted your body, its energy embedded within you. You quite literally caught the entire force of the Arcane with your body and it sort of infused with you.”  

Vi silently side-eyed her little sister, who caught her gaze and shrugged in response. “Beats me. First time I hear this too.”  

“Yeah, it’s not really something to casually bring up, I suppose. It’s not even established yet, just some theory Heimerdinger thought of randomly.” Ekko rubbed the back of his head with a small grimace. “But he doesn’t seem that pointed on it. He’s kind of all over the place when it comes to science.”  

“So, when I feel like a walking livewire, it’s because I technically am?” Vi asked bewildered.  

“Well, yes. Maybe? I mean, it would explain your arm, now that I think of it,” Ekko answered shyly. “I should ask Mr. Heimerdinger about it. Maybe he can help us more.”  

Vi whimpered lowly. If there was something she really didn’t want, it was to become another study case for some random scientist. She’d grown sick of people treating her like that. Same went for the pathetic treatment she received whenever people viewed her as ‘sad’ and made comments along the line of ‘oh, that poor child’. But... it seemed like she had less of a choice. And taking Powder in consideration, Vi felt like she owed it to her.  

“Sounds good,” She answered flatly.  

“What even got you to end up like this?” Powder asked. She liked to keep tabs on what could trigger Vi’s condition, purely to know what to avoid or what to shield her from. Whether it be overflowing emotions or a specific jab during one of her pit fights, Powder would note it down. “Was the crowdedness of the bar too much?”  

Shit. Vi had almost completely forgot about tonight’s incident.   

She didn’t know why the situation between her, Silco and the Topside cop affected her so much. Apparently, it had gotten to a point where she hadn’t even noticed how riled up she’d gotten and simply crashed when it had reached its limit. Vi was also sure she’d never see the woman again. After all, she’d told Grayson the same thing Vander had done; She was no longer willing to continue the investigation, which the Sheriff had accepted with deep understanding. As the older woman had said before; Vi was just like her adoptive dad in that sense and she couldn’t blame her for quitting.   

Personal feelings would always get in the way.  

The Sheriff and her had said their goodbyes. Perhaps they’d meet again if Grayson would visit the Last Drop, like she’d joked about, but Vi knew that she had never done that before either and most likely said it to simply lighten the mood of bidding farewell. Naturally, it meant that Vi had to part ways with Grayson’s young deputy as well. But given how the girl was absent that morning, Vi had taken her leave from the station with the dawning realization that her last time ever seeing the uptight officer would’ve been their detached sex escapade. What she hadn’t anticipated was that the tall woman would appear at her bar later that same day, after Vi had already accepted the truth that she wouldn’t see her again. And perhaps it only worsened everything, because Vi much rather preferred the last image of her to be blissed out on her bed, and not the icy glare she’d received when Kiramman marched out of the Last Drop.  

Vi didn’t even know her name yet.  

“Officer Kiramman visited tonight,” Vi deadpanned. She slowly got up from the desk’s surface, flinching at the dull ache of her left shoulder and the throbbing of her head, and pulled her shirt back on.  

“Oh no, trouble in paradise?” Powder teased knowingly.  

“Nothing like that,” Vi gritted out. “I’m not working with the Enforcers anymore. It’s probably the last time I saw her.”  

“What about the investigation?” Ekko asked unknowingly. “It’s done already?”  

Vi slung her legs over the edge and landed swiftly with a thump on her combat boots. She retrieved her jacket that was thrown over one of the chairs and put it back on. The black leather rested safely on her figure, like a heavy blanket. It was one of Vander’s old jackets he’d worn when he was just a teenage boy, before he grew into his height and muscular built. It suited Vi perfectly.  

“No, just some obstacles,” Vi replied vaguely. Much to her annoyance, Powder raised a knowing brow––once again, Vi did not like it that she and her sister shared the same talent of reading people like an open book and that Powder incessantly used it on Vi herself. However, she relented. “Uncle Silco is a suspect.”  

That got both of Powder’s brows to shoot up her forehead. Even Ekko, who wasn’t particularly fond of Silco, but managed his notion for Powder, was surprised by that.  

“Uncle is involved in it?” Powder asked, her voice apprehensive and smudged with non-belief.  

“Yeah, they think he was one of the people that kickstarted the development of some drug that’s now lingering on the streets.”  

“What? That must’ve been ages ago. Don’t they know that he’s changed?” Powder grew defensive. Vi couldn’t blame her. Just like Vi herself, Powder was adamant on keeping their family together. She’d been far younger than the rest of them, when they all went through the hardship between Silco and Vander. So, typically, Powder only saw the good in their uncle, which at one point, was more than Vi, Vander, Mylo, Claggor or Ekko ever could. But Powder was right, in the end, and Silco did change for the better.  

“Well,” Ekko cleared his throat hesitantly, “If he is involved, then isn’t it regulated that they interrogate him?”  

“He’s not,” Powder responded firmly to him, folding her arms in the cropped jean-jacket she was wearing today, and glared at her boyfriend.  

“I’m not saying he is, but if he did do something, then he can help.”  

Vi thought about it briefly. Zaunites and Enforcers had never seen eye to eye, not even after the Reconciliation. While Zaunites were now lawfully allowed to join the force, very few citizens from Zaun were willing to do so. The grudge went both ways, after all. Everyone from the Undercity remained cautious of Piltovian Enforcers and Vi did too, even though she had cheekily indulged herself with one. But Silco being questioned by the police was just another chance of losing him. He already had one too many strikes with Topside’s authority and Vi didn’t want to risk breaking the camel’s back. Probably also why Vander had withdrawn from Grayson’s request.  

“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Vi grumbled. “It’s maybe a bit selfish, but I’d rather keep the family intact.”  

Powder nodded at that.  

Ekko looked at the two sisters, almost in incredulity. Vi couldn’t blame him, really. He’d always been big on justice. He was fair and honest––Vi loved that her little sister had found someone like him. She would even admit that he was right about Silco and the investigation. It was factually the correct thing to do.  

But it was frankly too high of a risk.  

“I hope you’re doing the right thing here,” he said with a deep sigh.  

The walk back across the bridge had been endless.   

The monument was a physical reminder of the reestablished connection between the two sister cities. Topside and Bottom, that was all it was. She was never that familiar with Zaun. She’d learned it from the many history books that got spoon-fed to her from an early age on that she could barely pinpoint. Purely educational knowledge and no real experience. Not that she’d particularly liked what she’d witnessed thus far.  

Zaunites were different from Piltovians. You’d think that she––born and raised in the upper city and one of the most well-known and appreciated Topsiders to walk its streets––would find that stark difference in preference of Piltover citizens.  

She however did not.  

Zaunites were brutally honest, she came to realize, but she actually appreciated that aspect in comparison to Topsiders. Topsiders were never honest, not really– just a bit. Never enough though. It was sly remarks and gentle prodding with champagne in their hands. Public praise and compliments supported by practiced laughter, but sorrow and reprimands behind closed doors. Parents that could promise her the entire world, only to take it all away from her.  

After she’d reached the end of the Bridge of Progress– such a pretentious name, if you ask her– she had stumbled into the nearest bar that severely lacked nonchalant and face-tattooed bartenders. She initially continued her fest for the night, downing one drink after the other, the burn a little too weak and awfully unsatisfactory. It didn’t scorch her throat like the ones she had an hour ago and it certainly didn’t entice her to start chatting up the employee behind the counter.  

People had always just been people to her. Nameless figures that she sometimes saw more than once, but never in a different light. She wasn’t necessarily close to anyone. Not that she needed it. That was what she insisted for herself. She had her job and Grayson. She could talk to Grayson. That was enough.  

Her hands gripped the marble sink of the far too expensive bathroom for some random bar until her knuckles appeared white. She reminded herself; she could talk to Grayson. But the Sheriff hadn’t talked to her . They shared almost all of the demanding cases the station would handle. Grayson trusted her enough to flawlessly execute each job. She always did.  

But then why did Grayson not tell her that this Silco guy was personally involved with the informally hired Zaunite she was forced to work with? And whom she was now personally involved with too. At least, she thought one clumsy and erratic night would suffice enough to earn her that title.  

Basically, it forced her to feel like she failed herself. She had her virtues, never strayed from them, never changed them. She needed to remain professional– wanted to remain professional. It was her biggest pride, wearing the badge, being the most renowned detective of the city and highly regarded candidate for the next Sheriff role. She was picture-perfect, such she was repeatedly told by her colleagues. Not fully meant sincerely, yet no real diss.  

But she had foolishly given in to her lust. It was a weak moment for her, she could later recall. Her hazy memory depicted something along the lines of greasy slugs and a fancy penthouse she was surprised even existed in Zaun. Then one warm and one cold hand all over her body, the newly introduced burning and almost too overwhelming stretch she’d felt that got her clawing at a stranger’s bedsheet. She didn’t want to think back then– it was the perfect way for her to stop thinking. Because she was always thinking. Her brain seemed to work on overdrive, a whirlpool of thoughts and memories and sensibilities constantly spinning around and making her think.  

She didn’t want to think.  

That’s why she had showed at the raggedy bar in the deepest parts of Zaun. That, and the fact she couldn’t stop thinking– alas– about the catastrophe that was the docks. She was familiar with failure. Failure was familiar with her, too. It was the main subject of her core memories she often drowned in. She was picture-perfect, yes, but still not good enough.  

She looked up at the mirror of the ridiculous bathroom. Eyebags were prominent, resting beneath cerulean eyes and slandering her otherwise pale complexion. Her hair looked a mess. She briefly wondered how long she’d worn it like that, until she decided it wasn’t of any crucial matter. From the inside of her navy vest, she retrieved one of her family’s many heirlooms. A pure golden pocket watch. A bit on the heavy side, but she liked that weight against her chest. Its bejewelled hands showed a few minutes after midnight.  

Today marked the day. The day she was presented with her biggest failure exactly 7 years ago. Her mind was overloaded with memories of that day. Ones she would go over and over again, until she was sure she could be declared clinically insane. The coldness of the council room had been printed onto her skin. The shudder she gave at the sight of all seven spotlights being lit up, however, had nothing to do with the frigid air. Her world had collapsed that day and all she knew from thereon out was betrayal and solitude.  

Grayson keeping her in the dark about her assigned partner being the niece of their prime suspect––Betrayal. That same niece flat-out rejecting her as if she hadn’t been the one to commence it first and then proceeded to chastise her for the same thing––Betrayal. The last spotlight at the end of the councillor's table, its chair held by the most familiar face in her life, casting down on the same place she would one day inherit–– Betrayal.    

The latter was one of the primary causes of her haunted memories, the other two felt more like fleeting feelings. She’d be upset for a few days, then get over herself as she typically would– as it was drilled into her. Still, they felt like betrayals. A heavy weight on her heart, but not comforting like her pocket watch. That one felt present– secure . But betrayal felt like that cold council room all over again.  

She took one last glace at herself. Perhaps it was the alcohol in her veins or the constant thinking that finally drove her crazy, but the mirror in front of her suddenly shattered in a million pieces. Glass fell into the sink below, its sound mute and distant. Her face was now contorted by the cracks on the reflection. She glanced at the sting on her hand, the one she’d punched with and now trembled on the broken glass, and remembered she’d foregone her precious leather gloves previously that night. Another minor failure of hers.  

She simply wiped her hand off on the paper towels stacked on the vanity and left a considerable number of golden Cogs on the marble sink of the far too expensive bathroom, before she booked her way out of the random bar.  

The dark limited her sight. She was currently surrounded by water, anyway, so not much to see.  

The ferry was slow. It was a mere rowboat, since it was way past opening hours of the actual ferries that transported visitors. She’d managed to find a shipper. An old Yordle whom she found working on his wooden boat and had turned her away at first. With a simple flash of her money pouch, the Yordle had kindly agreed to help her ashore.  

It was late. Much later than when she’d visited the Last Drop, but less later than when she’d discovered Grayson still sitting at her desk. Her boss had looked up in sheer surprise, unamused that her young deputy had showed up some time after the midnight hour, especially since she’d instructed her to take a day off.  

What the Sheriff hadn’t considered was that the young officer did not know how to take a day off, let alone know what relaxing felt like. Alike to an interrogation, she’d addressed her superior, which would have gotten her squarely fired if she weren’t of respectable status amongst the department and if Grayson didn’t have a personal bias toward her. The Sheriff had calmly responded, nonetheless.  

“I know Vander personally and I knew how he would react to it,” Grayson said.  

There had to be more to it, her senses were tingling. She’d always got that sensation whenever she was on the case or in the interrogation room. It was a rush– an addicting rush. She was good it. She was excellent at it.  

“That doesn’t explain why you couldn’t just have told me in advance.”  

“Because then it would make the reason of a missing page obvious.”  

She scrunched her nose in confusion. Momentarily, of course, because she is a very skilled detective, after all. Her eyes widened when she realized what her boss was actually saying.  

“You were going to wipe the evidence.”  

Grayson hadn’t responded with anything. Not one of her stiff or affirmative nods. She simply let the truth was over them and settle. Then, “How do you feel about that, young Kiramman?” Grayson asked her genuinely.  

She was flabbergasted, also slightly offended, like watching white laundry come out of the wash ruined by pink. She kept opening her mouth just to shut it again. Grayson watched her intently, brown irises demanding her to stay present.  

“Why?” She finally asked. “I don’t know how I should feel about that.”  

“It’s what you do sometimes for people you care about. See it through the fingers,” Grayson said almost so aloof, she didn’t think Grayson was the actual boss of an entire police department. “Do you understand?”  

“No.” Her response came fast. There was no debate. Not this time. “It’s against the law.”  

Grayson did nod now. Her brown eyes remained on her own blue ones, but they looked at her with some sort of pity. Pity that she, in fact, did not possess the ability to understand Grayson’s action.  

“His suspicion originated almost seven years ago,” Grayson began, “Since that time he’s been nothing but a bartender, an uncle and a family member. To summarize it for you; He’s innocent now.”  

She chewed her lip so hard, she didn’t realize it had started bleeding. The copper taste clashed with the aftermath of good and bad liquor on her tongue.   

“What if he wasn’t innocent before?” She challenged. “If we don’t interrogate him, we might miss out on vital information.”  

“You think Shimmer is being spread on its own right now?” Grayson countered fearlessly, long used to her stubbornness.  

She deflated. Her shoulders lowered. “No, ma’am.”  

“As for the questioning, I was planning on doing that.” Grayson said, now looking audacious. “ Off the record.”  

“That’s against regulations.”  

“I know that, Kiramman,” Grayson sighed, partially due to the time on the clock plaguing her lack of sleep, and partially because her deputy was being a nuisance. “Listen. The man can’t afford to be called in by us again. It will be on his criminal record and prohibit him from working at the bar. I’ve kept these files confidential for that exact reason and only trusted you with it, along with Vander and Violet. If they want to ask him about it and tell me, then that’s fine. If they don’t, and they both chose this option, then that was fine with me too. As long as it’s kept within the family.”   

She gulped back a retort. Her throat was hoarse, probably from all her drinking. Perhaps it was time for a change of order. Whiskey had been the first drink other than rich champagne that ever graced her tongue and she simply stuck to it. Hadn’t ever tried anything else. It was easy, her go-to drink, nicely ordinary.  

She thought about what Grayson had said. Personal and familial affections didn’t mean much to her– Hadn’t for a long time. She did however realize that this was what Grayson had been asking her to understand. That sometimes you’d have to sacrifice your merits in order to save the people you care about. That you couldn’t always stay on the same familiar path that was safe and secure and didn’t break you out of your confinements.   

It was a scary thing for her. Letting go. Change .  

“So, now I ask again, young Kiramman.” Grayson woke her from her whirlpool of thoughts. “What will you do now?”  

“I don’t know.” Was the honest truth.  

“You could report me to the higher ups. They’d fire me, which would essentially give you claim to the position you’ve always wanted. It would be completely justified as well. I wouldn’t even be mad, because I know it’s you. ”  

Her throat felt like sandpaper by now. As if she’d waded weeks without water through the driest deserts of Shurima. Each alcohol induced breath was scraping the roof of her mouth with every word she uttered. She was surprised she’d been able to talk at all. The Sheriff’s proposal sounded absurd, to say the least. It wasn’t something she’d ever consider, even though it was indeed the right thing to do, now that she really thought about it.  

It hit her so sudden, like a predator soaring down on its prey, what Grayson was persistently trying to tell her.  

“I think I understand, ma’am.”  

The Sheriff had simply grinned at her in success and popped a thick cigar from her case holder, waving the young woman away from her office with the stern warning that she never liked the smell of smoke. The last thing her senses had caught when she quietly shut the door behind her was the sound of a lighter and indeed the thick aroma of tobacco she preferred not to infiltrate her nostrils. The faint smell reminded her of someone. She sternly stored the thought away.  

Their conversation had unleashed some doubts– About herself, about her job. Along with today’s date, she felt extremely nostalgic. Something inside her longed for that time her parents took her on vacation to their seasonal home in the northern parts of Ionia, where thick layers of snow coated entire landscapes. When her only worries had been to stay as warm as possible and upright on her skis. It was a nice memory of her family, for a change. Nothing from the past few years had even come close to it. Quite the opposite, if you asked her.  

So, that’s how she’d ended up on some Yordle’s tattered rowboat, which could easily end up being her cause of death. The waves crashed against the old wooden planks, making them croak and screech in the harsh wind. It didn’t seem like it was bothering the Yordle, so she decided not to bother herself with the fear of possibly drowning soon.  

They arrived at their destination after some tense rowing and the pure will to stay afloat. The Yordle man promised her he would wait for her. It was a given, since she kept the pouch of golden Cogs safely tucked away underneath her uniform.  

She climbed the large stairwell of stone to the ghastly building atop. It had been a while since she last set foot on its steps. When she entered the building, the unkind atmosphere immediately struck her. She deemed it belonged in a nightmare. There were distant echoes of screaming prisoners, causing ruckus regardless of the late hours. The large Vastayan man behind the front desk looked her up and down, dirty yellow eyes lingering on some places a bit too long for her liking.  

“We don’t take visitors this late. Move along,” He hurdled at her.  

“I’m certain you can remember who I am, before you start speaking to me again.”  

The same small eyes that had fixated on her chest grew wide and shot up to her face. “Ms. Kiramman! My apologies.”  

Her chin was raised high in a perfect manner that she had firsthand experience with getting to know. “Inmate 516.”  

“Ah, yes. Just go on through. You know where to find him.”  

She nodded in faux appreciation.   

The unsteady elevator took her a few levels down. Somehow the atmosphere had grown worse and it started to prickle her skin. With an almost too comedic ding, the transport machinery had come to its stop and the doors rattled open. The hallway in front of her was narrow and fully covered by rock and steel. The right side held prison cells, while the left side had tiny windows with bars between them that allowed a fraction of daylight were it the right time. A sad excuse for a view.  

She rigidly made her way down the pathway, receiving nasty glances and the occasional catcalling with a deflecting rigid expression. All the way at the end, where it seemed even impossibly darker than most places she’d just walked by, she found where she’d wanted to be.  

The inside of the cell was obscured by shadows. This prisoner did not have the luxury of a barricaded window nearby. Her stomach dropped at the sight of it– of him.  

“Will you finally talk to me tonight?” Her voice came out a mere unsure whisper, yet sounded stark against the gruesome ambience.  

A figure appeared among shadows. Drooped on what she could barely make out was a flat bed, the weathered person revealed themselves to her slowly. Her heart almost beat out of its cage.  

“Hey, sprout.”  

Chapter Text

Rain began ticking against the barred windows. The repetitive noises helped her with the turmoil racing in her head. She mentally counted each drop. Each deafening drop that kept her from thinking. Those were the seconds that passed in quiet.  

The air grew tense. It was never like that for them. They were honest laughter, shared secrets, pure means in a society of pretend and simulated conversation. She had secured a specific fond memory of them, latched onto it like a lifeline. It was her birthday, another dreadful one. He had made it exponentially better like he did everything. She tried to think back on it. Something about blimps and airships, in the same office where–  

“What are you doing here,” he finally said, voice gruff and void of emotion. “This late as well.”  

Her heart dropped. She felt a ceaseless solidity claw at her stomach. Must be the alcohol, she deflected.  

“I wanted to see you, I suppose.”  

The man got up from the wooden planks that meant to serve as a bed. His exterior revealed itself in the dim red lights of the prison as he approached the bars. The familiarity of his face cast away by unkempt dry hair, a rough beard and hollow cheeks. Kind brown eyes forced into lifelessness.  

“Jayce,” she said, pain lacing his name.  

Jayce grimaced. “You always sound so remorseful when you come here. Makes me think it might be better if you stayed away.”  

“How can I?” She asked indignantly. “Look at the state of you.”  

Her once older brother-like figure laughed at that, not like he used to– they’d make fun of a few Topsider snobs and their ludicrous gowns during some languid formal event, hidden in the corner of the ball room as they giggled together. His laugh now was demeaning. Humourless.  

“My state?” He ground his teeth and his uneasy eyes rested on her. Suddenly she was a kid again and she wanted to hide. “Look at yourself. You’re not the one stuck here, yet you look unrecognizable, Cait .”  

She froze. Over time, she’d almost forgotten there was a first name somewhere along the looming mountain that was being a Kiramman. There wasn’t anyone in her life currently that needed to use it, anyway. Grayson opted for the professionalism of surnames and titles only. At this point she wouldn’t even be startled if ‘officer’ was actually written on her birth certificate instead.  

She didn’t respond to Jayce and remained tight-lipped. She hadn’t come here to be insulted. Though, she couldn’t blame him either.  

The man seemed to notice her internal struggle and sighed. His calloused hands softly grabbed the bars of his prison cell as he slumped his head against them. “Just... Go home, Cait, and forget about me.”  

She huffed at him. Anger surged through her veins. Directions. People would always give her directions on what to do, what to choose, how to live . And if she didn’t follow these directions– because directions shouldn’t be orders, but advise, so far as she understood the distinction– she somehow ended up being the one flayed for it. Over and over again.  

“What would you have me do?” She still asked.  

“Get on with your life.” The comment would be rude if she didn’t know any better. If she didn’t know him any better. He, who once was her best friend, her older brother, the only solace she was able to find in a big empty mansion that should feel like home but never quite did. It made hearing his next words far worser. “Accept that this is how it is, and there’s nothing you can do about it. It has been years , Cait.”  

Years. Yes, seven, to be precise. She’d counted them religiously, like she did most things; Raindrops, the ticking of her pocket watch, pages of her notebook flipping. Counting helped her to not think. Because she didn’t want to think . Ever.  

It was all she did.  

Her heeled boot clicked against the barren floor. She shuffled in place, feeling small. That fragile, naive child she used to be cemented itself back in place in front of iron bars. Seven years ago, she’d parted ways with that same little girl. Promised herself something that would drag her life through a violent metamorphosis that left behind an empty husk of herself.  

“I can do this, Jayce,” she said resolute, wrapping trembling fingers around icy bars. “I’m almost there.”  

Jayce bowed down and shook his head, his coarse hair stuck to his forehead in cold sweat. “Cait, you can’t–”  

A slam against steel cylinder shut him up. The loud bang eerily echoed through the vicinity. Jayce’s eyes– such kind eyes, his mother used to coddle him in a passing remark– widened at her abrupt action. His face scrunched up in reprimand, or perhaps worry, that she’d snapped like that. The expression deepened when he took notice of her bloody knuckles, freshly cut open by pieces of glass. She pulled her hand away.  

“I have to.” She sounded empty, as were her words. It didn’t faze her. Not anymore. “If I become Sheriff of Piltover, I can revisit your case, find something else about the explosion. I can pardon you, Jayce. You don’t have to live out your life in here. I refuse to accept that.”  

“It doesn’t work that way–”  

“– Yes , it does ,” she hissed. Jayce stayed quiet at the outburst. The open wounds on her fingers start to throb along to the protruding vein on her temple. A lifetime of aristocracy had shown her that money and status could get away with literally anything. Other Topsiders would tell her she’s spoiled, but never in a slanderous way– no, for them it was accolade . It was almost laughable, how they put her last name on a pedestal and worshiped the ground they walked on like they were worthy of it. People never revoked the word of a Kiramman and yet, she’d only ever truly wanted one thing, and was denied of it.  

“I can figure something out,” she pressed on, almost hysteric, “Your office– it was broken into. The gems were never meant to be extracted from their capsule. You had safety measures. It wasn’t your fault–”  

“Dammit, Caitlyn!” Jayce cursed loudly and now it was him who rattled the cage dividing them. “I almost killed a kid!”  

She clenched her jaw, trying to calm herself by fixating on her breath. Inhale, then exhale. Count them. Measure them. She felt like she was wading through an endless fog, yearning for it to dissipate– for some form of clarity. Her sight slowly refocused on the here and now, on Jayce, who studied her features with thick furrowed eyebrows above dull eyes.  

He was worried, she concluded. Such a reoccurring event in her life. It bothered her, it truly did. The way her parents would attempt to strike up a conversation or extend an invitation to her, even though they knew that she purposefully avoided any patrol near their neighbourhood and hadn’t gone to their estate in years. How Grayson would tell her to take a day off like some rest could vanish the tormenting creature in her mind. That Jayce still stood there, right in front of her, so near yet so distant and unobtainable, with care and love for her. And he never fought back for her.  

“Don’t give up,” she hoarsely sneered. ‘On me’ she forgot, its sentiment lost somewhere in the thicket of her thoughts.  

“I’m not.” Jayce ducked from meeting her. His face grew pale, like he was contemplating something, ever the inventor. He released a deep sigh, before telling her, “But you should.”  

She was done disputing the subject. She hadn’t come here with the aim to argue. She never even thought she would be in a position where she’d do that with him. Not him. Never him. Yet here they were.  

Once again, she found herself frozen in place, staring at the oh so familiar inmate past iron borders, whilst he fully evaded her. Like looking at her was an incurable disease.  

“Why wouldn’t you talk to me?” She spoke and Jayce finally looked up. Still, not at her. “The last times I’ve visited, you never talked to me. Why?”  

A soft click. The reload of her rifle, the one that popped an empty shell out of its chamber. She was all too familiar with it– a barrel, a muzzle, a stock that slotted perfectly in the crook of her shoulder. She was excellent with it, surpassed her mother at an age younger than any heir had ever done before. Her finger that had released an engraved and bronze bullet in the very midst of a target, which had coaxed one of those reserved smiles out of her mother, felt present. But it wasn’t her who pulled the trigger.  

It was Jayce.  

“Because– fuck , Cait, I feel like I don’t know who you are anymore.”  

Vi woke up the next morning. Her bed was empty, for once. Not that she minded. Her body felt like it was run over by an armoured tank.   

Vander had returned in the late hours and discovered Powder, Ekko and Vi in his office. He’d immediately fussed over her when he heard what happened. She’d protested the overbearing care at first, but eventually settled in an all-too-well-known bearhug. Powder had taken her home after that, with a quick promise to their dad that she and Ekko would look out for Vi and keep her from trouble.  

But Vi had always been a bit too much of a free spirit.  

The pit fighting ring in front of her was empty now, unlike how it would be later. Smeech was hosting the tournament today, which meant Vi could really make some dough tonight. She stood in the bleachers of the stadium and inhaled the musky air. This had been like her second home– well, third, since she also had the Last Drop. The last six months, Vi had come here almost every time there were matches being held. Of course, Vi had ended up being crowned victorious each time she did participate. She was sure that ratty Yordle was gonna be completely pissed by the fact she turned up today.  

The host would often pick their own champion and put money on them. Sometimes, when it was a big tournament, fighters were selected by its multiple hosts, which was basically just a bunch of rich assholes smacking each other with their wallets. Smeech never chose Vi for himself, but he did let her in, because the crowd adored her. It was his own stubbornness that kept losing him money and bets. Vi relished the fact that she was the sole reason for that.  

So, when she boredly applied herself for tonight’s fights, she was surprised that Smeech didn’t groan at her like he normally did. Instead, he grinned , menacingly. He mentioned a new champion he’d found, and that Vi should buckle up if she were attached to that winning streak of hers. Vi had waved him off. Smeech was known for empty promises and false hope. It was how Vi made the Yordle lose his shit each time she took the cash prize home.  

As soon as Vi returned to her apartment, she started to warm up. A few stretches and strikes against her old boxing bag would serve plenty. The pain of last night had dulled into a sting. Nothing she couldn’t handle. It was around the time she started to rewrap her bandages, when her little sister barged into her room.  

“What is this shit I’m hearing from Sevika about you fighting tonight?!” Powder practically screeched as the door hit the wall of her bedroom with a loud thud.  

Ah . Vi was so preoccupied with the ratty Yordle that she’d completely forgot about the actual rat in the building. Sevika.  

Sevika was the proud owner of the pit fight stadium. The brute of a woman was an old partner of Vander, and they both shared a passion for fighting. So, when plans of a ring and a stadium for regulated fights in Zaun were rooted in place, Vander had offered Sevika the holding position. Which the woman, albeit grouchily, accepted.  

Her and Powder had stricken up an unexpected and strange friendship during one of Sevika’s many visits at the Last Drop. Vi ogled them while she was serving drinks. Powder was stationed behind the bar, pouring beers for Sevika who only communicated back in grunts and half-assed replies. And when Vi had returned from a patron’s table somewhere near closing time, the drunk woman and her lanky little sister had been hollering together, slamming their respective drinks down on the counter like they were old pals. They surely made an odd pair.  

But Powder and Sevika being buddies, did not mean Vi shared the same experience. Instead, they had some sort of friendly rivalry. Whenever Vi would win another tournament and loudly boast her victory, Sevika would claim she’d beat Vi within the blink of an eye to try and humble her. They’d only ever fought once, for real, and it had ended in a lame draw.  

Meanwhile, Powder angrily tapped her foot against the wooden floorboard, awaiting a well-thought-out response from her older sister that could match a perfectly fine excuse. But Vi knew that was near impossible. She simply shrugged.  

“Smeech’s games tonight. You know I rarely skip out of those.”  

“Uhm, yeah, what about your meltdown yesterday?!” Powder pointed out sternly.  

“C’mon, Pow,” Vi sighed. Her sister’s face wore that scowl she so often displayed in front of Vi. Mostly when Vi would make a dirty joke or when she caught another woman in Vi’s bed. “It’s mad money. Plus, we hate Smeech. Would be nice to pester the old rat a bit.”  

“I don’t care about money or stupid grudges,” Powder said with a whimper. “I care that you stay safe and healthy. You’re not helping me with that by getting beat up.”  

The two sisters looked at each other. They were both bull-headed. They both knew that. It often resulted in a stare down, such as one they were having now. Vi squinted back, just a tad more. Eventually, Powder admitted defeat and dramatically threw her hands up.  

“Fine, whatever. Just make sure you get back in one piece.” Her little sister whirled around, before she whipped her head back one last time. “And give them hell, or don’t even bother to return home.”  

Vi smiled.  

Six hours.  

Every day, she'd get six hours of sleep. Never less. Never more.  

That was, at least, if she did get to sleep at all.   

After Stillwater, her night and early morning were spent laying ramrod straight on her made bed in her full but dishevelled uniform, studying her ceiling, which seemed to gain distance the longer she looked at it.  

Fifteen seconds– for she was always counting– before her daily alarm would start blaring, she pressed the snooze button on top and tidied herself up. When her uniform returned to its natural state, smoothed down with not a crinkle in sight, and her hair back in a tight bun and a singular neat strand, she left for work. Breakfast would do with a simple black coffee from Grayson’s Ionian coffee machine.  

She sat in her office all day, door closed and blinds shut tightly. She’d only swapped a few casual words with her boss when she’d gotten her nutrition for the morning and then holed herself up in her safe space. There were some amateur matters she had to get through, some bothersome paperwork she looked over, nothing she couldn’t fix within a minute or ten. Though, the bulletin board behind her taunted her incessantly. She stared at the map of Zaun and the documents she’d pricked on it, skimming past all the evidence she’d gathered and processing the information systematically in her head.  

She frustratingly ended up empty handed when the clock on her wall announced office hours were over. She would have stayed longer if the Sheriff didn’t waltz in to usher her away.  

“Go home, young Kiramman.”  

Home . She didn’t quite know where that was.  

Her thoughts started to flood her when she was pacing down the streets of Piltover. Flashes of her visit to Jayce last night. Her older brother who didn’t quite feel like the person he was to her anymore. Specks of the cold council room she wore on her dull skin. Her mother with a raised hand that activated the blinding light upon her. Spurts of black and pink hair that belonged to someone she deemed a stranger yet felt so familiar to her.  

A stranger who had made her stop thinking, easing the storm inside her head, like standing on a vacant pier, where only the ocean and its waves soothed the ambience. Where everything in the world no longer seemed that important. She couldn’t entirely recall their night together, since she’d been so out of it, though, she did still feel the lingering traces on her skin that brought her to peace. The quiet she always longed for.  

So, it wasn’t really a surprise that her feet had subconsciously brought her to the front of the Last Drop, its authentic neon sign hitting bright green on her pale features. She didn’t quite know what had gotten into her, that she was now chasing after some Undercity girl she barely knew. Perhaps it was an underlying feeling that the roguish woman had a kindness to her under all those tough layers of leather jackets and rippling muscle, or she just rekindled the rebellious spark she’d developed under her parents’ pressure. Either way, there was a pull, the same certain curiosity that she got during those intricate cases that kept her up all night. There was something about the tattooed girl she couldn’t quite put her finger on.  

Risking it all, she bashfully entered the cosy bar. The same stench of sticky beer and drunk guests from last night flooding over her. She browsed the area in search of the familiar stranger, but was immediately met with disappointment. The bar was tended by Vander and some lanky guy she hadn’t met before. She wanted to turn heel and spare herself the indignity of having come here, but Vander had spotted her and waved her over.  

After some small talk, she’d awkwardly asked about his eldest daughter. Just a generic question about how Vi’s been, even when she’d only seen her since yesterday. Vander had grinned at her, knowingly and teasing, but kindness within his deep wrinkles.  

“She’s at home with her sister,” he had told her. “I’m sure she won’t mind you visiting her. Maybe it’ll cheer her grumpy ass up.”  

She was a decorated officer. Well-respected within her department and Piltover’s community altogether, years of experience and hard work under her belt. People knew her for her gravity and poise– she oozed gravity and poise. Yet she found herself standing right outside the front door of a certain penthouse, fidgeting with the hem of her leather glove as she reluctantly knocked on the heavy wood.  

The door was opened with a rustling of keys and revealed a young blue-haired woman who she’d met briefly a few nights ago.  

“Powder,” she greeted.  

“Officer,” Powder responded flatly, keeping the opening shallow. “I would ask you what you’re doing here, but I think the answer is quite obvious.”  

What the officer didn’t know was that Powder was aware of Silco’s involvement, which had turned Vi away from the case. But she could tell she wasn’t welcome here. Not by how Powder was looking her up and down, eyes lingering on the badge she wore on her belt around her waist and scowling at it.  

She slowly realized that she was staring at the girl and had to say something soon to not make the moment even more tense than it already was, seeing Powder’s scrutinizing expression. “I just want to speak with Vi. Apologize for my behaviour last night.”  

Powder’s brows furrowed in confusion at first. Then, realization struck her facial features as if she’d puzzled the pieces together. The officer just didn’t know what those pieces were. 

“Vi’s not here,” Powder venomously spat. “Now leave, officer.”  

The shorter girl moved to close the door, but the sole of a heavy tactical boot and a leather clad palm refrained her from doing so.  

“What the hell?!” Powder yelled as she looked down at the officer’s boot clamped between the door and its frame.  

“I just want to know–”  

“–I don’t need to do tell you anything!” Powder said exasperated, pushing against the door. But the Enforcer was much stronger, her hand remained sturdy, and with the stubborn shoe helping her, Powder’s efforts were useless. “Shoo, lady!”  

“Please,” she pleaded to the younger sister, who kept on trying to shut the door. The officer ignored it. “I just need to where she is.”  

Defeatedly, Powder stopped and stepped aside. The Enforcer silently entered, acknowledging the invitation with a sly nod to which Powder rolled her eyes.  

“Not doing this for you,” the lanky girl stated with a huff and closed the door behind them.  

She took in the apartment once more. This time more aware of her surroundings. The room radiated comfort and warmth, and all the furniture and baubles had personality that suited the two sisters. She supposed this was what home should feel like. A framed photograph on the shelf next to the front door depicted Powder with a boy her age, goggles atop both their heads and their hands clasped around a trophy she recalled was given out during Progress Day.  

“You’re an inventor,” she said. Not really question, but more of an observation.  

“Heh, we’re not here for small talk, Legs.”  

The officer raised a delicate eyebrow. “Legs?”  

Powder simply waved at her bottom half, then walked past her without much else. “Want something to drink? I assume tea, since you’re one of those fancy Topsiders.”  

“I thought you insisted we’re not one for amicability.”  

Powder shrugged. “I was raised properly. Can’t appear unladylike in front of the girl my sister’s trynna woo. Now, tea, or no?”  

She knew her cheeks flushed at that specific comment. She hoped it wasn’t visible, but Powder’s cheeky smile said otherwise. Her hand subconsciously wandered to the front of her uniform, pressing against the pocket watch to feel its comforting weight.  

“Tea would be lovely,” she replied as composed as she could.  

Powder’s eyes wandered over her. She squirmed under her watchfulness, as if the young girl was studying her thoroughly for one of her award-winning inventions. Her sight lingered on the hand wrapped in black leather that had started trembling, unbeknownst to the officer herself, before she consciously dropped it next to her side again.  

“Go sit or something,” Powder remarked, “Your constant fidgeting is pissing me off.”  

The words were so direct– it was plainly rude. But she knew Zaunites were like that with practically anything they said. She had found it refreshing. Had thought the same whenever Vi would tell her exactly how it was without much beating around the bush. And thus, she simply sat down on the large patched sofa in the middle of the living room as Powder scurried to her kitchen.  

The girl returned and handed the officer a funky looking mug. At the crude text written on it– some joke about good mornings involving slurping coffee and pussy– she looked back up at Powder, who simply shrugged and plopped down next to her.  

“That’s Vi’s.”  

“I can tell,” she said dryly, and took a swig of the below-average tea.  

The silence that fell over them was somewhat uneasy. She noticed that Powder wasn’t shy about where she was looking. Bright blue eyes were fast on her, cornering her and digging for potential buried secrets. Then, the younger girl finally broke that alert silence.  

“You must be desperate, coming here.”  

Another far too direct comment that had her choke on her tea, which took her a minute to recover from. “Excuse me? I’m not desperate in any sense.”  

“Really?” Powder smiled innocently yet ominous. “So far none of Vi’s girls have had the shame to seek her out on their own accord. And here you are.”  

An eye twitched at that. Vi’s girls. Plural. Meaning there were multiple girls in Vi’s life. Meaning she was merely one of her girls. How foolish to think she’d just parade around Zaun to seek out Vi and have the girl reciprocate her temptations. It shouldn’t be surprising, given how casual Vi had been regarding sex. How great Vi had been with her– in her. Given that the leather clad bartender was absent from her apartment and her family’s bar, meant she could very well be with someone else and hadn’t given the officer another thought. Vi had tons of options, most likely far better options too. She shouldn’t feel this bothered by that fact– Vi barely knew her, and the parts she did know, weren’t all that pretty.  

Still, her fingers stiffened ever so slightly around the crude lukewarm mug.  

“I’m simply curious to her whereabouts.”  

“Hah, whereabouts ,” Powder mocked the accent, making her eye twitch again, just not in the same way. Powder straightened on the couch and faced her, eyes exuding intensity. “Why won’t you just leave her alone? I know your deal with our uncle, and trust me when I say this, but neither of us wants to deal with any of that.”  

Silco. The man had slipped her mind– Her argument with Vi about him had slipped her mind. A knot formed. The tightrope she was walking wasn’t something she had prior experience with, counterbalancing the importance of the Shimmer investigation and her job with her indulgent of personal feelings. Just like how Grayson had so desperately tried to lay it out for her. It went against her virtues, her ode to the profession, yet she couldn’t help herself.  

“I’m not here for him,” she offered the younger sister.  

Powder looked her up again, scanning her over. “You really just wanna know where Vi is?”  

She simply nodded.  

“You’re strange,” Powder huffed. Then the girl seemed to contemplate something, apprehensive of wording her thoughts. One last glance at the quiet officer, and eventually Powder continued, “She’s at the pit tonight.”  

“The pit?” The officer parroted, which Powder rolled her eyes at.  

“Yeah, the pit. She fights there, and she’s damn good at it. Beats any man twice her size with one simple hook! She said today’s tournament is an important one, so she didn’t wanna miss it.”  

The officer processed the words and skimmed through endless documents she’d stored in her mental archive. The arena, where the pit fights in Zaun were held, was a place of suspicion she and Grayson had identified. Multiple reports alleged the area as a popular trading spot for Shimmer. And Vi was going to attend tonight’s tournament there.  

She didn’t feel at ease with that. Something was wrong. Her instincts flared up.  

“Can you take me there, Powder?”

“This is not how I wanted to spend my evening,” Powder complained once more as they entered the rowdy stadium.  

The younger girl had dutifully brought the officer to the pit, guiding her through the unknowns of Zaun. After some hassle about the Enforcer’s uniform, and a fair exchange of golden Cogs for entry, the bouncers had let the women inside. Powder grunted at a guy that rudely bumped into her and turned to the officer with her eyes narrowed.  

“Listen, Legs, you better be right about that hunch of yours!”  

“High probability,” she answered, though without typical smirks that followed or cocky behaviour, but simply monotonous.  

Through the heavy mass of raunchy supporters, she directs the two of them toward the upper floor, the highest seats within the crowd that gave them a clear view of the ring in the middle. The tournament was ongoing and well. Two fighters clashed together, spurred on by loud cheers and raised fists. She scrunched her nose at the roars, and her head started to pound at the obnoxiousness of it all.  

“You always sound like that?” Powder asked flatly, as if annoyed, both by the officer and the atmosphere's vulgarity.  

“Like what?”  

“Like your life’s black and grey. You ever smile? Or do you really have a stick up your arse,” Powder said to make fun of her accent again.  

At that, the officer couldn’t help but flaunt her a sarcastic smile, fabricated for irony, and Powder fumed at it. But the girl couldn’t snarl something back in time, as the referee’s whistle rang sharply. One of the two pit fighters laid on the ground, bleeding heavily from his mouth and nose, head lolling sideways. The other man didn’t even spare his opposition any regards and howled back at the crowd, claiming his victory open and proudly. Knowing that Vi would eventually stand there and face the same gruesome violence made a shiver pass down her spine.  

“Hooligans,” Powder groaned softly next to her.  

She hummed in response. Seemed like they could find agreement in something after all.  

The commentator’s speakers hushed the crowd after the bleeding fighter and the winner were escorted off the stage, and announced the upcoming round. “Ladies and gentlemen, your returning champion, the Hound of the Underground!”  

Bright lights flashed, blinding the officer and her shorter companion, before the tall iron gate opened and revealed her .  

Violet.  

Her metallic arm shimmered in the white rays as she jogged to the ring, entering with a toothy grin and flex of her arms. The crowd roared at her, beer and snacks thrown toward the centre in enthusiasm. The officer could tell Vi drank their rage all up.  

“Show-off,” Powder commented, though with a proud quirk of her lips.  

“Certainly,” she responded somewhat breathlessly, unaware that Powder gave her a judging glance at that.  

“And now,” the announcer built up anticipation, “The newest addition to the pit, backed by Smeech himself, the Jawbreaker!”  

A large man stepped into the light. Vile tattoos littered his entire torso up to his neck, swirls ending by the upper edges of his copper induced jawline. However, the most noticeable monstrosity about him was the mechanical engine he wore where his arm was missing. It didn’t quite look like a regular prosthetic, but rather a machine, its cogs and wires whirring rapidly. Her senses flared up again, but this time added with red ear-splitting alarms that raced around her head.  

“Powder, I–”  

The bell chimed.  

Vi launched herself at the mech-guy in a blur of punches and jabs. The woman dodged everything the Jawbreaker returned, far more talented than the copper beast. Powder remained quiet beside her, consumed yet worried by the spectacle in front of them. The officer herself observed the match, breath stuck in her throat as her heart pounded against her ribs. She hadn’t felt this worked up in ages, wouldn’t dare call herself perturbed at the sight of the kind stranger placing themselves at risk. She didn’t know Vi, she kept telling herself. Vi was just a temporary partner for her job. A means to an end. Not someone she would ever bother herself with after all their arguing and bickering.  

Yet her gloved fingers clutched at the balustrade that separated the seating rows.  

She should’ve known– she did know. Her instincts were rarely misplaced. It’s what made her such a renowned detective.  

The man was cornered by Vi, too hasty with his strikes, too bulky to evade hers. His back was now fully against the ropes. Vi pounced on him, again and again, successful and nearing victory. But then the man leapt at her.  

A flash of purple and Vi’s staggered expression were enough for the Enforcer to expect the following blow.  

Powder screamed.  

Vi’s body flew through the air, and she landed painfully on top of her platinum arm. Even from their spots, all the way above, she could hear Vi wheezing from the hard impact. She rolled around on the mat, gripping her faux arm. The Jawbreaker approached Vi, but the referee intercepted, sternly pointing him back to his corner.  

Her legs started moving on their own, and before she knew it, she was jumping over guardrails and spectators, speeding her way down with Powder in tail. “Move!” she ordered in a delirious yell to Zaunites blocking her and roughly pushed them aside when they didn’t hear her. Right at the edge of the pit, she lowered herself cautiously, aided by her tall height, and landed on her feet. She quickly helped Powder down, catching the shorter girl as she jumped from the banisters, and both rushed toward the fighting ring.  

But rather than seizing the brutish fighter who’d shown usage of Shimmer, befitting of an officer her station, she brushed past him, only shooting a rigid glance to warn him she’d deal with him accordingly later.  

“Vi,” she said, kneeling next to the injured woman. A pool of dark liquid surrounded the girl’s head, spreading far too fast for her liking. She faintly felt Powder crouch down beside her, cradling Vi’s face, too shocked to release anything but sobs. Vi, dazed and unfocused, reached up to hold Powder’s hand, stroking her sister’s skin soothingly. Then, Vi looked up at her.  

“Officer,” Vi mumbled back, fighting the unconsciousness looming over her, her tone dizzy. “Fancy seeing you here.”  

“Oh, shut up,” she chuckled with an actual smile. A smile Powder had just joked she was incapable of producing.  

“Didn’t know you could do that.” Just like her younger sister, Vi made the same comment, even in her beat-up and incoherent state.  

“You’re impossible...” she reprimanded her, though the usual bitterness lacked from her voice.  

Vi droopily grinned back. “Sorry, officer.”  

“Caitlyn.”  

Vi’s eyes widened ever so slightly, mouth agape. But before Vi could ask her about what she’d just said, or pass out completely, the officer answered for her.  

“My name... –” she softly whispered to her, a leather gloved thumb caressing the small tattoo on Vi’s cheek.  

Vi looked on bewildered, dark edges rapidly clouding her vision. She felt herself fall into an endless abyss, a certain serenity muting all senses. But right before she blacked out, that accented voice she’d grown to find so sweet, filtered out two last words for her.  

“– is Caitlyn.”  

Chapter Text

“Here you go.” 

Vander sat down next to her and handed over the mediocre coffee the Zaunite hospital supplied. The institution was established a few years after the Reconciliation between the Uppercity and Lowercity, motioned by the council after decades of ignorance. It was simply a ludicrous idea– that Zaun had been barren from medical and social care prior to it. The hospital still wasn’t as fancy as Piltover’s various ones, its coffee clearly did add to that notion. 

Still, she gratefully accepted the drink that would help her get through her consecutive all-nighter. “Thank you.” 

Vander hummed in response, letting silence fall over them as they consumed their much-needed dose of caffeine. Then, Vander’s hand placed itself presently on top of her knee, warm and comforting. 

“You’re bouncing your leg,” he said. 

“Oh.” Caitlyn hadn’t noticed she was. A habit she’d been made aware of recently. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize.” He gave her a warm smile. “Tonight has been a lot, I get it.” 

That was certainly one way to put it. The night had been nothing but hectic, she’d been running around like a headless chicken. It started with her escape to Zaun, in search of her bulky bartender, just to end up spending half of the evening with her little sister instead, whom she was sure love-hated her guts. Then, Vi had gotten gravely injured, and Caitlyn felt like she hadn’t taken a clear breath of fresh air ever since. 

She had not joined Powder when Vi was taken to the hospital. After all, she had her job and needed to execute it accordingly. The Jawbreaker was taken into custody by her, and Grayson arrived at the station shortly after. Caitlyn summarized what had happened; the Shimmer empowered prosthetic, Smeech who had hired the fighter and fled from the scene entirely after Caitlyn had arrested his champion. At least she and Grayson could add another suspect to their list. 

Speaking of suspects; Vander had surprisingly turned up at the station, startling Grayson and herself in the Sheriff’s office. They had just finished interrogating Vi’s cheating opponent. But the information Vander had given them was by far more crucial. 

“The docks,” Vander started his confession, “Silco said he used to do his business in an abandoned warehouse at the docks. By the lighthouse.” 

He had explained that him and Silco agreed to tell the truth, now that Vi was involved. It was a wake-up call, a necessary one, he said. They just wanted to protect the family, only for one of them to end up getting hurt by it, and the aftermath of ignoring the issue was too severe. Caitlyn had gritted her teeth at that. Knowing that Vi had to bleed for everyone to spring into action. However, she also could understand being protective over loved ones. Vi had been too. 

“I have searched that perimeter,” Caitlyn replied in her authoritarian voice. “Nothing surfaced.” 

“That’s because it’s not on the surface.” 

An underground bunker. That was what Caitlyn hadn’t foreseen. She was right about the docks, after all– not that she cared at this moment. There was a whole laboratory below sea-level, hidden in the depths of the lake. When Caitlyn and Vi had investigated the area, they hadn’t counted for a secret passageway that would lead toward some vault. Caitlyn did recall the old warehouse, ivy clinging to walls and rotten wood spilling through the vicinity. She knew precisely which depot Vander meant. 

“There’s a trapdoor,” Vander continued, “Underneath the stairs. It’s a long tunnel, dug by mineworkers. The bunker was meant for safety during the uprising, but its use changed for the development of Shimmer.” 

Caitlyn knew she had been looking at him incredulously, almost fuming at the fact they hadn’t told authorities this earlier. But it wasn’t her sense of duty, or the strict jurisdiction that she followed that made her so agitated with the situation– no, it was because Vi had to suffer the consequences. 

Vi, who had eagerly assisted the Enforcers, even though she despised Piltover, because she wanted to secure Zaun’s safety. Vi, who had selflessly joined Grayson and Caitlyn when Vander hadn’t. Vi, who only ever wanted to help, and paid the price for her family.  

Vi, who was so sweet with her after she’d been nothing but a cold-hearted bitch to her when they’d walked around Zaun’s harbour all day. 

Caitlyn swallowed back a thickness in her throat. 

Then spoke, loud and clearly. 

“How could you let this happen– let this go on for so long?!” She nearly sneered at him, consumed by rage. Grayson reached for her, to put a hand on her shoulder, but Caitlyn went on before she could, flinching away from her superior’s touch. “And don’t you dare give us that family bullshit. You meddled with an ongoing investigation. One that puts all of Zaun in immediate danger.” 

The room fell quiet. Caitlyn hadn’t meant to go all out like that, but she could no longer refrain herself from addressing the matter at hand. She felt herself shaking. 

“You’re right,” Vander broke the silence. He met Caitlyn’s gaze, regret swarming in his eyes, but adamant of her words. “We’ve been too ignorant. Silco never meant for Shimmer to evolve into this. He only meant to aid Zaunites with it. But if Silco has to face the results of his actions, then so be it.” 

“It doesn’t have to come to that,” Grayson stated firmly, back into her Sheriff role. “We know there’s multiple players on the field. People that have worked on the drug recently and are the reason why it started to circulate. We ought to find them before it truly escalates.” 

“There’s one more thing, officers.” Vander fumbled with his olive jacket, retrieving a faded print. “This is the doctor Silco started out with it. They’re not in touch anymore, but it might help you with the case.” 

Grayson took the photo and scanned it over, before giving it to her deputy. Caitlyn only had to see one glimpse of the image showing a crooked man. 

“Doctor Reveck.”

Hot sizzling, the disturbing smell of burnt flesh, distant cries. Vi’s head was spinning. 

When she opened her eyes, she wasn’t met with the layout of the inventor’s office her mind had printed onto her brain. There weren’t any flashes of blue light either, just the washy ceiling of some hospital room and the repetitive beeping sounds of a monitor. 

Vi grunted as she tried to sit up, flinching at the sharp sting of her left shoulder and the throbbing at the back of her head. A hand flew up to cradle the spot within splotched shaven hair and she felt the freshly put stitches, its threads pointy and rough against her calloused fingertips. 

“Oh, you’re awake.” Vi looked to her right, spotting her sister by her bedside, worry across her features, but smiling regardless. “Welcome back sis.” 

“The fuck happened...?” 

Powder’s face scrunched up, and like ice water splashed over her, Vi remembered. She’d been at the pit fight. She was winning, and suddenly she was not. As if to poke fun at her, her ribs, that caught the blow, started aching. She’d never witnessed anything like that. A punch, so hard, that it had launched her through the air like she was a ragdoll. Vi recalled the mechanical arm. At first sight, she had found it suspicious. No one in Zaun had a prosthetic like that, Vi would know, because she had been the only lucky bastard that received one from Ekko and Powder. They hadn’t marketed the product. 

“You got your shit wrecked,” Powder quipped jokingly to avoid the severity of the situation. She reached for Vi’s nightstand to hand her the glass of water, along with some pills. “You’re on meds, by the way. Doc suggested you take your next dose.” 

Vi eagerly took the medicine and swallowed it back with a gulp of water. She hurriedly wiped the remainders off her face. “How long was I out for?” 

“Just this night.” 

Vi noticed Powder’s scratchy voice and the red streaks on the white of her eyes. How heavy the word ‘night’ had sounded.  

“Pow-pow, have you slept?” Vi asked guiltily. 

Powder shook her head and carried a lopsided grin. “Couldn’t, really. Ekko and I have stayed up at our workshop.” 

“Why?” 

Powder’s smile withered away. Her big blue eyes quivered, looking all over Vi. “We’ll tell you later, when he gets back. For now, though...” Powder stood up to open up Vi’s door and gave a nod toward the waiting room outside. Then, the younger sister turned back to Vi, lingering in the door opening. “She stayed with you all night, when Ekko and I were gone. Had insisted on keeping Vander some company while the doctors patched you up.” 

Vi had the urge to shoot up straight in bed, but refrained herself from doing so, given how badly her body had reacted previously. The heart monitor next to her bed sped up in its beats. It couldn’t be... 

But there she was, entering Vi’s room. Powder smirked from behind her, winking at Vi, and took her leave by shutting the door quietly. 

“Hi.” 

She sounded shy, an almost ridiculous notion for Vi to even think about. The prim and proper officer, always so stern and devoid of emotion, sounded shy in her greeting to Vi, standing awkwardly in all her lanky glory by the entrance. 

No, not officer. Caitlyn.  

“Hi,” Vi said back, voice stuck as she cleared her throat. 

The echo of her name resonated within Vi. Right before she’d passed out the officer’s voice had been the last thing she’d heard. That beautiful name Vi had always been curious about, finally revealed as it lulled her into a peaceful sleep. Like her name, the woman was nothing but beautiful. 

Her midnight blue hair was let down from that tight bun she always wore. Though her eyebags remained prominent, they weren’t formed due to stubborn lack of sleep in preference of work, but emanated restlessness from worry instead. It gave her depth, Vi thought softly, a certain hue of care and relief. She wasn’t sure why the Enforcer girl had been waiting for her. Why she had opted to stay at the hospital during the night along with her dad, to the point she seemed absolutely drained. But Vi didn’t care. Caitlyn looked stunning to her. 

“You gave us a bit of a scare,” Caitlyn murmured, uneasy by the situation they found themselves in, and she folded her navy clad arms tightly. Vi knew that Caitlyn was aware of her suspicious stay, being here with Vi’s family when they were nothing more than acquaintances. The girl was fidgeting with something in the chest-pocket of her unbuttoned uniform. 

“Sorry,” Vi immediately responded. The hospital, the worry, the care; It was all a bit too familiar to her. “Usually, it’s the other guy that ends up like this.” 

At that, Caitlyn did show her small smile. Also something new that Vi found quite delectable. It made her want to learn more about the officer. 

“He had an unfair advantage,” Caitlyn said smoothly. 

Vi pondered over it. The hint of purple she’d seen before she’d gotten blasted by a fist. “Shimmer?” 

Caitlyn nodded and approached Vi’s hospital bed. She clumsily tugged at one of the chairs to take her seat, all that poise removed all of the sudden. “Vander came to the station last night.” Caitlyn hesitated with her story, but Vi gave her a firm look of encouragement, so the girl continued. “He told us what Silco knows. We didn’t pry or anything. He simply confessed.” 

Vi sunk back into the plush pillows. She didn’t know anything about Silco’s past, at least not those parts. After she’d pulled out from the investigation, Vi hadn’t bothered to ask him either. She traced the patterns on the greyish ceiling, before settling back on Caitlyn, who had been eyeing Vi herself. The officer bashfully averted her gaze the same instance. 

“You don’t have to feel bad about it. Fuck, Ekko warned us about the same thing too. Guess the little man was right all along.” 

“Ekko?” 

“My sister’s boyfriend,” Vi grinned proudly. “Also her lab partner, co-owner, you know the gist.” 

“Ah, yes. I think I saw him on a photograph in your sister’s apartment last evening.” 

“You were at our place?” Vi smirked, dressed in a shameful hospital gown and stuck in bed but ever the tease. 

“Uhm.” Caitlyn was stammering. Vi marvelled at it– the composed and rigid officer Kiramman stammering like a lost child. 

“What were you doing there, Kiramman?” Vi spoke up for her. 

The officer sighed. “Please call me by my name. And I was looking for you, if you really want me to say it aloud.” 

“Very useful to know,” Vi husked. God, if she wasn’t so nerfed, reduced to some weak hospital patient, she’d take Caitlyn right there and then. Knowing that the officer had been in the waiting room for her, been at their apartment to look for her, was too sexy for Vi. Especially because officer Kiramman had always been so distant with practically everybody in her life. Vi couldn’t deny that she liked the attention, as well as the infatuation. Besides, it was mutual. “I’m flattered, officer. I hope you at least enjoyed the other pit fights, before I got knocked off my socks.” 

“It’s Caitlyn,” she reminded Vi once more. Her cheeks were flushed, Vi noted, satisfied with that observation. “And no, it was abhorrent. Surely there’s more efficient ways to be spending your free time.” 

“Oh, I for sure can think of some,” Vi toyed with her. 

Caitlyn’s lips quirked upward. “Easy there, soldier. You can’t even maintain a straight face under all that pain medication you’re on. You’ve been looking quite pale since I’ve walked in.” 

“Just you wait until I get back,” Vi powered on, feeling the pills Powder gave her kick in. She slowly began to doze off, embracing the serenity, the image of Caitlyn seated by her bedside and reaching for her hand the last thing she saw before she closed her eyes. 

Vi was released from the hospital the same day. Supplied with arms full of pain medication and antibiotics, she’d gotten a pat on the back and was put into care of her family. Powder and Ekko had taken her home, since her dad had to tend to the Last Drop, fearing that Mylo and Claggor had turned the place upside down in his absence. 

When Vi had woken up from her slumber, Caitlyn was gone from her bedside. Back to work, Powder had told her. The freshly given out information by Vander had caused a ruckus at the police department, and the Enforcers were busy preparing a full-scale raid on the Shimmer warehouse in the upcoming days. Vander had caught Vi up on what he’d confessed, and while Vi understood why he’d kept quiet, she was in disagreement with him too. But knowing that Caitlyn had been right after all, and she most likely would’ve boasted about it as well if Vi wasn’t incapacitated by her injuries, forced a tiny smile on Vi’s face. 

However, it seemed like that smile couldn’t last for long. 

“Come on, spill it,” Vi spoke up to break the unbearable silence. Ekko and Powder had remained eerily quiet on their way home and were now sat together on the couch, still mute. “You two have been looking at me like I’m some starving stray dog. What’s going on?” 

“Powder told you we’ve been at the shop, right?” Ekko started shakily. 

“Yeah? You two nerds are always at your workshop. It’s not really unheard-of.” 

“We were working on your arm, though,” Ekko said. 

Vi looked down. Her tank top allowed her prosthetic to be fully exposed in all its shiny brilliance. The rough pink scar starting at her shoulder never failed to startle her momentarily, but she couldn’t spot anything strange. The metal just rested there, as it had done the past few months, stark against her skin, her whole body. Some alien construction that wasn’t meant to be there. 

“What about it?” Vi asked, confused by her little siblings’ fuss. 

“You landed on your left side,” Powder said, voice small and wavering. “When that dude hit you, your shoulder got the full impact. The doctors at the hospital asked for the prosthetic to be removed so they could get a better look at your injury. But...” 

Powder fell silent, biting her lip. Upon seeing his girlfriend in such a state, Ekko wrapped a secure arm around her waist. Suddenly, Vi realized the gravity of the situation. 

“Your prosthetic fused with your body, Vi. No one was able to physically remove it from you.” 

Vi blinked at Ekko. Her brain rattled at his words, trying to string together the meaning of it all. She hadn’t taken her platinum arm off in a while. She hadn’t dared to try, needing the limb to start feeling like a definite part of her as fast as possible. Her hand subconsciously reached for where metal met scar tissue. 

“What do you mean?” Vi was breathless, panicking just slightly. “I don’t feel anything weird.” 

“We’ve gone over everything all night, but we aren’t sure what the cause is.” Ekko paused, cradling his white locs as he always did when nervous. It didn’t exactly ease Vi’s thoughts. “From what Heimerdinger has told me, it might have to do with the Arcane. It’s just such a foreign concept. I don’t know what to do.” 

“We’ll figure it out,” Powder said immediately, steadfast in her tone. “We’re gonna find what’s going on with you and fix it.” 

“Powder...” Vi tried to soothe her sister, but Powder firmly stood up, fists balled up in determination. 

“No. I almost lost you, Vi! I won’t let something happen to you again.” 

Vi just sat back, at a loss for words. She watched Powder take Ekko by his arm, dragging him off to their lab, while Vi processed her impending circumstances.

The rest of Vi’s day was filled with sleepiness. Although she couldn’t quite find rest. Not with her mind going a hundred miles an hour. 

She kept thinking back on Ekko and Powder, how they’d seemed so lost– so frustrated by being clueless and helpless. Vi’s guilt gnawed at her stomach, as well as sheer panic. Ever since the explosion, she’d felt like her body was no longer her own. Vi liked her muscular build, her strong arms and legs, her toned abs. Working out had been some sort of coping mechanism for her after her severe injury. It was a way to lay claim on her body again. To shape and form it into something on her own terms. 

The mangled flesh of her shoulder and blue lightening scars always taunted her regardless of her gained muscles. Reminding her that she was never in full control. 

She was on edge. Vi needed something to take that edge off.  

She debated going to the gym. To punch a few sturdy boxing bags, or even spar with somebody to blow off some steam. But she knew Powder would never forgive her if she did, after having left the hospital just a couple of hours ago. So, Vi restlessly laid in bed, fussing over everything and nothing.  

Until a hesitant knock sounded through the empty apartment. 

She immediately shot up from her bed, and padded to the front door a bit too excited for some sort of distraction from her thoughts. 

Oh, and what a distraction it was, in the form of no one else other than Caitlyn Kiramman. 

The officer stood startled in the door opening while Vi took her in. Caitlyn was still in uniform– Vi had never seen her in anything else– probably just gotten off work. They both gaped at each other, like a pair of awkward teenagers, before Caitlyn meekly cleared her throat. 

“I should’ve brought something.” Vi raised a brow at her. So, Caitlyn shyly explained further. “When someone’s released from the hospital. Like flowers or a fruit basket?” 

“You don’t strike me as a flower or fruit kind of girl,” Vi teased. “And let’s be honest, neither am I.” 

Caitlyn smiled politely as Vi let her inside. They faintly brushed, and it took everything in Vi to not instantly pounce on the officer. She wore that same perfume Vi had smelled on her when she had first visited the Sheriff’s office. And God, it added to Vi’s cusp of restlessness. The way Caitlyn was standing timidly in her living room, looking around at everything but Vi. How the officer was clasping her gloved hands, playing with the trim of leather. 

Vi closed the door shakily, a bit too harsh as well, and paced over to Caitlyn, who finally seemed to notice Vi’s greed. 

“I don’t think–” Caitlyn was cut off by Vi’s chapped lips latching onto the skin right above her frilly collar as soon as Vi had closed the gap between them. The officer let out a muffled groan, clutching Vi’s bare shoulders. “You just got back from the hospital, is this really–” 

Vi gripped Caitlyn’s jaw with metallic fingers, efficiently shutting the officer up, to which Caitlyn grunted at in complaint. “I need this, Cupcake. Today has been a shitshow. It’s just like you coming here yesterday, isn’t it? For a means of relief?” 

Vi nipped at Caitlyn’s throat, licking and sucking until red splotches emerged. The officer weakly panted, restrained by platinum curled around her jawline and a cold thumb pressing on her chin. With her hold on Caitlyn’s face, and mouth vastly on her throat, Vi pressed the officer back, until Caitlyn’s back hit the counter of their kitchen island. Vi grew annoyed at the Enforcer apparel covering the expanse of skin, and with one swift tug, she ripped the white fabric wide open. 

“Vi!” Caitlyn scolded. But Vi ignored her. 

She lapped at the newly exposed skin of Caitlyn’s throat, throwing the shredded red choker and white collar somewhere on the floor. Her unoccupied hand flimsily yanked at the golden buttons on her vest, wondering if she could get away with ruining that part of Caitlyn’s uniform as well. But her disappointment was met with Caitlyn covering Vi’s hand with her own, calmly undoing the buttons instead. 

“This one’s personalized,” the officer said, regarding the mandatory garment. “I’m quite certain my boss wouldn’t appreciate ordering more attire for another high-ranking official.” 

“Whatever.”  

Vi also responded with tearing the blouse underneath the navy vest she’d shimmied off, revealing a neat white lacy bra. 

“You absolute b-brute,” Caitlyn commented, but bit back a moan halfway through when Vi suckled on a nipple covered by lace. 

The blouse hung from Caitlyn’s pink shoulders, parted in the middle to show the dainty bra beneath. Vi took a step back to appreciate the full picture, her work on Caitlyn’s throat protruding nice variations of reds and purples. The officer squirmed under Vi’s eyes, back uneasy against a marble ledge and hot skin subject to cool air, all whilst metal squished her face together. 

“If you want the rest off, please leave it intact,” Caitlyn pleaded. 

“Leave it on,” Vi rebutted. “It looks sexy on you like this.” 

The officer blushed at Vi’s bluntness, and Vi relished the reaction she’d coaxed from the uptight officer. To dismantle her unyielding uniform and have it clung uselessly to her body like a trophy for Vi to cherish. She didn’t have a thing for authority– hated anything close to it. But damn, to strip it from a person as sophisticated as Caitlyn, was beyond an erotic accomplishment for Vi. Like she held the entirety of the officer in the palm of her hand. Metaphorically speaking, of course. Because Caitlyn did feel amazing too against the actual palms of her hands. 

“Let’s get you out of these, though,” Vi demanded as she played with the belt on Caitlyn’s trousers. “You can do it yourself if you don’t trust me.” 

Vi didn’t want to admit she had no clue how to work the intricate looking belt, and she didn’t want to release Caitlyn’s pretty face just yet, but fortunately for her, Caitlyn undid them herself. Her hands trembled, Vi noticed, and the tattooed woman slipped the officer’s leather gloves off. She also removed Caitlyn’s bun, which was part of her exterior Vi desperately wanted gone. It wasn’t until Caitlyn’s hair fanned out, and with her belt undone, that Vi dragged her grey pants down long sleek legs with one skilful hand. 

“Matching set?” Vi asked mischievously at the white lacy panties. “You definitely went home first after work before you came here, didn’t you?” 

Caitlyn only whimpered in response, wantonly arching her back for Vi. 

“Words, officer.” 

“Perhaps,” Caitlyn breathed heavily, “you should take your hand off my jaw so I can move it.” 

“I quite like my hand there,” Vi countered. “Although, I'd prefer it elsewhere, if you consent.” 

“Is it safe?” Caitlyn’s eyes grew wide, not in disbelief or trepidation, but in eager anticipation. Vi nodded, already tracing platinum downward, over the curves of Caitlyn’s front. “Then go ahead.” 

Vi impatiently cupped Caitlyn’s cunt through the sheer fabric, playing with the ornamented trims. At an exasperated huff, Vi pulled the panties aside, exposing her wetness. 

“Someone’s excited,” Vi taunted. “Bet you’ve never been fucked by something metallic. Maybe diamonds are more up to your standards, Princess .” 

“Don’t be absurd,” Caitlyn keened, yelping when one of Vi’s platinum fingers trailed over her throbbing clit. The officer’s tongue swirled inside her own mouth when Vi pressed inside with a single digit, its coldness apparent against molten walls. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve done this before,” Vi said, as if she had read Caitlyn’s fretting mind. “Most girls actually prefer it this way.” 

“Do not mention your previous hook-ups when you’re knuckle deep inside of me.” 

Caitlyn mewled as Vi entered another finger, tutting at her. “I didn’t take you for the jealous type, but I guess I should’ve known better. A prissy princess like you doesn’t want to share, do you?” 

“I am n-not–” Caitlyn moans loudly, negating her speech. Vi was now three fingers embedded within her pussy, setting up a merciless pace. 

“Oh, shut up and take it like the good girl you are.” 

Vi curled her faux fingers, bumping against the spot she precisely knew its location of. The officer slumped back onto the kitchen counter, mouth open in ecstasy as Vi brutalised her insides. Vi held tightly onto the Enforcer’s tiny waist, watching her veiled tits bounce to each thrust. Giving in to her craving, Vi smothered herself with the plump boobs, sucking at lustrous skin to mark them. 

Caitlyn cried out at Vi’s rough handling. She had no fight left in her to chide Vi for leaving hickeys in visible places, it had been established ever since Vi had lathered her throat with them. Her mind turned to mush. All the stress and tension from her job sent packing by how well and rough Vi was fucking her. 

“You’re so goddamn hot,” Vi growled, licking wet stripes all over Caitlyn’s torso and collarbones. “You came at the right moment, you know? Like you knew I needed to fuck someone’s brain out after all this shit I’ve endured.” 

“Mhm,” Caitlyn whined, face scrunched up. Vi knew that she was basically unable to comprehend anything but Vi’s fingers sliding in and out of her. 

“Offering yourself up like this. Taking me so well,” Vi purred against her. “How generous of you, officer.” 

“Fuck,” Caitlyn heaved during Vi’s relentless pumping. “Do you always talk so much?!” 

“Oh, but you love it.” As if to confirm the statement, Vi retracted her coated digits, showing the slick to the Enforcer girl. Caitlyn grew even more red at the display of crudeness. Vi sunk her biological fingers into her delicious waist. “Don’t tell me none of your bedpartners ever dirty talked.” 

Caitlyn stayed quiet, averting her cerulean eyes. 

“Oh, baby,” Vi cooed. “You’re so into it, yet no one has ever done this for you? My poor girl. No one took care of you.” 

Caitlyn’s gaze snapped back to her, eyes filled with neediness and arousal, her features almost delirious. “Then fuck me like that. Fuck me like you want to take care of me.” 

Vi sucked back a breath. It was the first time she’d heard the officer swear. And during such an erotic moment as well. Vi barely refrained herself from creaming her pants. 

“Shit, yeah alright,” Vi said, voice thick. She slid back inside of Caitlyn’s tight pussy, forcing her to spread around her once more. “Stop complaining about everything then. And just admit you want it.” 

But Caitlyn Kiramman was proud. To concede she was nothing but a servant to Vi’s degradation was a near impossible task for her. So, instead, she gritted her teeth and clenched her jaw, as she dutifully took Vi to the hilt, over and over again, until the warm tingling in her lower region bloomed. 

“I’m close.” It was all she could force out between her locked molars and stuttering moans. 

Vi began to speed up at hearing that, plunging into Caitlyn’s cunt a bit harder, but it had been a grave mistake. A shock bolted through her left shoulder, expanding to her scar littered body. The officer didn’t seem to notice her jolt, too consumed by pleasure to notice anything really. Vi bit down on pale skin, muffling her own sobs of agony, not wanting to take away Caitlyn’s moment. 

Caitlyn came with a scream when Vi pierced through skin, gasping into the heated air of the kitchen as her pussy spasmed around Vi’s platinum fingers. Caitlyn blissfully rocked back onto Vi to prolong her orgasm, eyes shut tightly and mouth slightly hanging open to release choked-up whimpers. 

Vi had to recollect herself. She didn’t want the officer to see her like this. However, the second wave of unbearable pain washed over her, and this time it was consistent. Never ending electricity surged through her veins, almost paralyzing her. Only when Vi stumbled to her knees did Caitlyn finally notice her. 

“Vi?!” 

Vi tried to scramble up, but collapsed against the kitchen counter, grasping onto her own arm. She started to hyperventilate, shifting the focus on that. Vi sat unmoved, holding herself, trying to calm down and bear the pain. 

“Easy, easy,” Caitlyn said as she appeared in Vi’s vision. The officer cradled her cheeks, thumb stroking her softly. Vi would’ve laughed if she could; The sight of Caitlyn half undressed, trousers haphazardly tucked back in its place. “What can I do? Tell me what to do.” 

“Just,” Vi grunts, forcing back another wheeze, “stay like this, please.” 

They stayed like that. Caitlyn comforted Vi as much as she could, drawing patterns across her skin, and uttered mellow phrases. The pain eventually subsided, bringing Vi back to reality. Cerulean blue scanned over her as Vi’s breathing slowed. 

“You said it was safe,” Caitlyn muttered feebly. 

“It is.” Vi sat up straight, and Caitlyn retreated her touch. “I just– fuck, Ekko and Powder told me the extent of what’s wrong with my prosthetic, but I thought– I don’t know, maybe I just wanted to prove that I’m fine. That my arm is fine as it is. I didn’t think it would act up like that. I’m sorry.” 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Caitlyn said softly. Vi looked up at her. Nothing that the stoic officer ever portrayed remained. Her knotted eyebrows or the scrunch of her regal nose, it all rested serenely upon her face now. She was ethereal– younger and prettier like this, as Vi had concluded many times before. “It’s okay to admit you’re not fine. I didn’t come here with... well, that in mind, and I don’t regret it at all. But I only let you do what you wanted to do, because it seemed like you needed it. I never wanted you to exert yourself.” 

“Yeah, my bad,” Vi chuckled, “Thank you. I did need that. To get it out of my system. Seems like I know my limit now.” 

“Your limits certainly do complement your reputation fairly well,” Caitlyn teased back, half a smirk on her elegant face. She dropped her gorgeous blue eyes to Vi’s platinum arm, inspecting the scar tissue atop it. “I never did ask. How did you end up with the prosthetic?” 

“There was an accident when I was 15 years old. My arm got blown up, obliterated to the bone.” Vi smacked her own shoulder for emphasis. “My sister and her boyfriend worked for years to get me this sweet thing. But apparently, it’s causing some malfunctioning or something. We aren’t sure yet.” 

Caitlyn remained still. Vi could just see the gears grinding in her head. Then, Caitlyn spoke, her voice wavering and astound. “Fifteen? That was 7 years ago?” 

Vi nodded, unaware of Caitlyn’s growing horror. “Yeah, there was this big explosion. The news was all over Piltover and Zaun. It actually kickstarted the whole Reconciliation, but I never found any credit in it.” 

“Your scars,” Caitlyn said abruptly, and Vi was startled by how frantic the officer suddenly sounded. It unkindly reminded her of their day at the docks, when Caitlyn had mentally broken down. Caitlyn lifted the hem of Vi’s tank top, revealing thunder-shaped blemishes. “They’re blue, just like the explosion.” 

“Yeah.” Vi was confused by now. What was going on? “Is that a crime or something? Why are you being so weird?” 

“Crime,” Caitlyn mumbled, more to herself than to Vi, who shrugged off Caitlyn’s hand from her top. But Caitlyn was too much in her own head to even notice it. “You were the one that broke in at Jayce’s apartment.” 

Vi dumbfoundedly blinked at her. And just like that, after such a placid swap of vulnerability, the officer recovered her old demeanor. “Who the fuck’s Jayce?” 

“He’s the inventor you tried to steal from,” Caitlyn explained, standing up ramrod straight as she watched down on Vi. “And my best friend of years who got incarcerated because of that stunt you pulled.” 

“Oh,” Vi said. 

Oh.

Chapter Text

She was fidgeting with the frilly collar of the elegant dress her parents had donned her in. Her dad stood beside her, chin raised and stern in his suit, opposite from his usual goofy smile he wore, when chatting up fancy folk at fancy outings in his fancy tailored tuxedos. 

Caitlyn barely recognized the man, now standing in the council room in support of his wife and child. 

The lights were dim and the roof's barrier shut. A single beacon in the midst of the council table was turned on, giving the room a grim ambience as the occupants remained mere shadowy figures. Perfectly melancholic for a trial, overall. 

Caitlyn had visited her mother while on the job plenty of times. Her dad would take her after school, and pick up her mom so the small family of three could go out for dinner at Piltover’s finest restaurants. And sometimes, they’d invite Jayce along, if he wasn’t too busy with his studies. 

Funny, how such ordinary things could fall apart within the blink of an eye. 

She’d barely spoken with Jayce after the incident that left his clattered apartment in rubble and ashes. After a quick and needless check-up at the hospital, Caitlyn had gone to see Jayce, who’d caught majority of the blow for her. Other than a few bruises on his back, and a nasty clean cut in his upper thigh, the boy had been fine too. He wasn’t given much time to rest, though, as Piltover’s authority apprehended him almost immediately after his release from the hospital. 

Apparently, Jayce had housed some dangerous experiment that caused the explosion, unsanctioned by the Academy, which had put him in limelight of the entire Uppercity. Since the Academy building was owned by the Kirammans, and the family basically financed Jayce entirely, it had scrutinzed their name as well. Though, it was promptly made clear by Caitlyn’s parents that they had nothing to do with what Jayce called the Hexgems and were completely unaware of his detrimental practices.  

Caitlyn remembered when her mother had taken the stage to address Piltover publicly. It was the first time she realized that her parents were not on Jayce’s side. Sure, her father had been overbearing with Caitlyn, chiding Jayce for having put his young daughter in danger, but Caitlyn didn’t know the depths in which both her parents shared this conviction. 

The circumstances only worsened when Jayce’s trial was announced. First, there had been talks about expelling Jayce from the Academy, and banishment from Piltover’s upper town, meaning he had to leave the Kiramman estate and return to his own home. Which altogether signified that he had to give up his dreams of finishing his studies to become a scientist, and was forced to work at his family’s humble factory. Caitlyn knew how important this dream was for Jayce, and how it would crush him if he wasn’t able to achieve it. 

But she had undermined the severity of the situation. 

Caitlyn had begged her mother– begged for her to cut Jayce some slack, to lighten the punishment. The upcoming trial wasn’t for banishment, or a naive ejection from Piltover’s Academy– No, it was now decided that Jayce might have to serve life in prison. To rot in Stillwater until the end of time, waste his genius brain in some clammy cell, unfit for someone his character. Upon hearing the news, Caitlyn had darted to her mother’s home office, pleading for Jayce’s freedom. 

Whereas her father was extremely biased toward Caitlyn, but wouldn’t hear her out on her wishes to spare Jayce, because Jayce was the one that had put his daughter in jeopardy, Caitlyn knew she could rely on her mother. Cassandra Kiramman was a rightful person, impartial to outside forces and opinions. She had always been kind to Jayce. Helped his studies and childish dreams by taking him under the Kiramman wing and supplying him with all his needs. Her own mother had gotten Caitlyn her first true friend, somebody that didn’t falter upon hearing her heavy surname, but treated her normally and saw her for who she truly was. Caitlyn had grown up with Jayce, watched him age into the fine man he had become, just as he watched her grow up into the curious 15-year-old girl she was now. And today it could all be taken away from them. 

“I cannot promise you anything, Caitlyn,” her mother had told her, when Caitlyn sat by her ordinate desk, clutching her little top hat in her trembling hands. “We will have to await the trial.” 

They didn’t have the best of mother-daughter relationships, but Caitlyn had always looked up to her, even if she’d never openly announce it. The two of them could sit in comfortable silence, busying themselves with their respective work– homework for Caitlyn, reports and letters for her mother. But they could always share each other’s space. Depend on one another. 

So, Caitlyn had entered today’s trial with the hope that the Kiramman matriarch would exploit her power to reduce Jayce’s sentence. After all, her mother was known for lesser reprimands, always opting to better public offenders, guide them back into society with community service, rather than store them away in little boxes.  

Caitlyn could trust her mom. She was sure of it. 

President Heimerdinger called forth Jayce Talis, and the creek of heavy doors bellowed through the chilly room. Caitlyn turned around to spot Jayce, who was being escorted by no one other than Sheriff Grayson. Caitlyn was acquainted with the Sheriff due to their shared passion of sharpshooting. She was now old and experienced enough to beat Grayson in shoot-offs, though she suspected the older woman sometimes let her win those tournaments on purpose. Grayson gave Caitlyn a soft look, but maintained her professional stature as she walked Jayce forward. 

Jayce also spotted Caitlyn back, his kind brown eyes widening at her. “Cait!” 

The boy yanked himself free from the Sheriff– Grayson had let him, Caitlyn noticed quickly– and gave Caitlyn a somewhat awkward hug, given that his hands were cuffed. Her father steered Jayce away with a short but firm push, wanting him to keep his distance from his daughter. 

“It will be okay,” Caitlyn told Jayce, after shooting her dad a glare at his action. 

Jayce didn’t answer, as if he’d already known the outcome by then. But he simply smiled at his little sister. Like he needed to be the one comforting Caitlyn, and not the other way around. Caitlyn let him go. 

She had watched the trial from afar. Statements, facts and accusations were thrown around. Each council member had found more to say on the matter, more to add, like they’d fished information from a pool that didn’t exist. Jayce tried to defend himself, had a comeback for nearly everything. He wasn’t a fool. Jayce was bright enough to counter arguments with precise measurements. 

Then, Caitlyn’s mother spoke. 

“There were four children,” she declared fiercely, “One of them, a Zaunite girl– young, was severely injured by your Hexgems. The Enforcers haven’t been able to retrieve mere fragments of her limb. Her arm was entirely disintegrated. Is it sufficed to say that a student like you should never even possess a device devastating as this in the first place?” 

Caitlyn’s eyes planted themselves on her own mother. Her heartbeat restrained itself in its pocket, and her world seemed to come to a stop. 

Jayce squirmed in place. “No, ma’am. I shouldn’t have.” 

“A device?!” One of the councillors exclaimed. A skinny man with sleek blonde hair and a long face. “Use the correct name for it, Kiramman. It’s a weapon. A mass destruction weapon!” 

“It was never meant to be a bomb!” Jayce resisted desperately. “I was just trying to recreate magic with science. The gems store Arcane. I didn’t calculate its instability.” 

“Instability is quite the term for it.” Another councillor interrupted. Caitlyn could place the name Shoola from the back of her currently spinning mind. “It almost killed a child. We will not stand for the demise of a young girl.” 

Jayce ducked his head. Caitlyn could see him gnaw at his lip. “I didn’t mean to cause any harm. I never wanted to hurt her.” 

“The cicrumstances were indeed unfortunate,” Heimerdinger said in a near jokingly tone that made Caitlyn want to put a bullet through his head. “But councillor Shoola is right, Piltover cannot stand for this, Jayce. We cannot let you go unpunished.” 

“Let me take him back!” 

Caitlyn heard the familiar voice of Jayce’s mother echo through the chamber. The woman stepped forward, into the lights. Countless memories of sharing a dinner table with this same person fleeted through Caitlyn. Her parents and Jayce’s mother seated together in the grand foyer of the Kiramman mansion, conversing full heartedly about their children. Mrs. Talis thanking the Kirammans time and time again for their hospitality and being Jayce’s patrons to get him through his education. Caitlyn knew her all too well, yet the empty stares from both her dad and her mom at the wailing woman were devoid of compassion.  

It felt like an arrow straight through her heart. 

“Send him back to house Talis. We will make sure Jayce won’t ever set foot in Piltover,” Jayce’s mother pleaded. “Just give me my boy, and you will never have to see us again.” 

“We cannot do that, Mrs. Talis.” Caitlyn felt sick hearing her own mother speak, what once was a grounding voice, turned twisted and disturbing. She even felt more like throwing up when Jayce’s mom spewed back at the head of house Kiramman, anger and disbelief crossing over her tear-stained features. “Piltover’s jurisdiction demands justice. His crimes should and will be answered here in The City of Progress.” 

“Now please step back, ma’am.” 

Jayce’s mother reluctantly retreated back into the shadows when Grayson ushered her to. Before she got swallowed by darkness, Caitlyn caught her eye. She wanted to tell his mom that she didn’t want this for Jayce either, but the cold hand of her father came to rest on her shoulder and broke her away from her line of sight. And Caitlyn stayed put. 

“There have been various breaches of the law, some of them fall under S-rated offences.” 

“We can no longer ignore these violations of our legal code, sir Talis.” 

“A unanimous vote will denote a life sentence in Stillwater.” 

Caitlyn darted back and forth each councillor, head beginning to swim as the pressure rose. Their bickering noises drowned out in Caitlyn’s head. They spat more conclusions, each one bringing Mrs. Talis closer to her knees as her sobs painfully filled the spacious room. Jayce grew smaller and smaller alongside his mother cries, his face stricken ghostly pale.  

It had never been okay. Caitlyn had lied. 

The imminent fire of a bullet, the drop of a guillotine’s blade– the final vote. Cassandra Kiramman was blasted with brightness by her chair’s spotlight, securing her vote as the last member around the crescent moon table. Jayce had been dragged off to Stillwater. 

And Caitlyn never forgot the betrayal.

After a while, Vi had managed to coerce Caitlyn to sit down. The officer had cladded herself tidy, every bit of authoritarian garment back in place, except for her hair, which swayed in a messy ponytail. 

Caitlyn has had some sort of outburst at the revelation of Vi being the young girl that had instigated the whole uproar in the Uppercity, and Vi couldn’t help but feel extreme remorse at the fact Jayce had gotten locked up, even when Vi was the one carrying the physical wounds. During Caitlyn’s hysteria, where she’d paced around the room, toying with her golden pocket watch that she’d taken out from her previously discarded jacket, Vi had quietly watched her. 

Caitlyn would turn and toss the relic, flipping it over repeatedly to its sound rhythm of ticking. Vi didn’t dare interfere, understanding that Caitlyn needed it to calm herself down and keep her focus. Occasionally, she’d hear the officer murmur to herself, counting the passing seconds, minutes, and after 20 or so, Caitlyn had returned to Vi’s side, eyes dazed and distant. 

Vi realized she was afraid– afraid that Caitlyn would take it out on her. Perhaps, it was what Vi deserved. She was the one that had trespassed to steal, after all, causing everything in Caitlyn’s life to collapse. When Vi had gathered enough courage to look up at Caitlyn, she found cerulean staring back at her. Then, Caitlyn turned away with a snap of her neck, and Vi prepared herself for the impending blow. 

But it never came. 

Instead, Caitlyn’s words were cautious but gentle. 

“I never forgave anyone.” 

Vi sat up in curiosity, expecting Caitlyn to lash out or something, but nothing like the tenderness that laced her voice. The pocket watch was still being clutched by the taller woman. Leather-free hands gracing its glass and golden parts, and only now did Vi notice small cuts on her knuckles. At any other time, Vi would’ve grown crazy at the repetitive ticks of the clock, but the background noise was quite welcome for now. It ebbed the tension between them. Caitlyn still faced away from Vi. 

“My father, my mother,” Caitlyn listed, “Grayson and Jayce. I never forgave any of them.” 

Vi didn’t expect Grayson or Jayce in that row. Caitlyn had always seemed so at ease with her boss. Vi didn’t know the extent of Caitlyn’s relationship with Jayce, but she was surprised to hear his name too. 

“I even detested you. Well, the person that had triggered the Hexgems. I was aware that they were young. That they were from Zaun, had nothing to their name. Siblings with them to stuff everything in their packs.” Vi just listened attentively. Hearing Caitlyn say it out loud was terrifying yet something Vi needed to hear. “I knew of your injury as well. Knew how you almost got killed. Still, I loathed you for being there at the wrong place, wrong time. I never forgave that faceless girl from my mind either.” 

“I’m sorry,” Vi said, and that got Caitlyn’s attention again. She spun around to Vi. 

Her wide eyes raced all over Vi, like Caitlyn had just remembered Vi was in the room with her. Caitlyn looked hurt– Vi knew she was hurt. And she had been the one that inflicted it, regardless of it being indirect. Vi tentatively reached out, only for Caitlyn to flinch away. 

Then, Caitlyn abruptly stood from the couch. She stuffed the pocket watch and hurriedly collected her gloves from the coffee table, unresponsive to Vi’s existence. 

“Cait,” Vi tried, as Caitlyn rushed toward the front door, too distraught by her current state of mind to remain in Vi’s presence. 

The officer stiffened. Her grip on the handle tightened ever so slightly at the nickname. She gave Vi one last glance over her shoulder, which Vi reflected in willingness, almost praying for her to stay, before Caitlyn disappeared without a sound. 

Vi doubled over on the sofa, digging the ball of her hands in her eye sockets, thumping her head against them. 

“You fucking idiot...” 

The police department had been vacant since long ago. All its workers clocked out on time, desperate to get home after some brutal days of plotting their raid on the Shimmer bunker. 

It was a big project, involving various units from Piltover’s emergency forces. Sheriff Grayson would lead the operation with Caitlyn as second in command. They’d constructed a strike team, devised with experienced agents, each skilled in their respective roles. Caitlyn had thoroughly prepared, perhaps even more than Grayson herself had done, for their mission. She hadn’t even left her office in 48 hours. Not once. 

Empty boxes of take-out food and coffee-stained mugs scattered across her desk and floor. Her paperwork laid in the midst of it, illuminated by the small desk-lamp she had and the moonlight that shone through the window behind her. Caitlyn scanned over the pages with interlaced fingers smouldering the lower part of her face. 

Everything had been readied. Each nook and crease of their operation was fully thought through and precisely welded. They had experts all across the board; A bomb disposal unit, a gadgetry squad, technicians that provided the strike team with optoelectronic vision goggles and, of course, trained shooters, which Grayson and Caitlyn assumed its position of. They were ready– Caitlyn was ready. And in just a few hours, when the sun would set, they’d infiltrate the corrupted warehouse. 

“Young Kiramman.” 

Caitlyn shook from her thoughts. She hadn’t noticed the door of her office open and she certainly did not expect to see Grayson stand in said door. She thought the Sheriff had taken her leave along with all the other Enforcers. 

“Sheriff.” 

“I’ve received complaints,” Grayson started to address her, entering her office further, “from the janitor, of all people.” 

Caitlyn simply gawked back. Grayson grunted deeply before she continued. 

“He’s contracted to clean the entire place, Kiramman. He can’t do that, when you’ve been occupying your office space for two whole days.” Grayson took a look around, raking over the mess of wrappers and used napkins. “This goes against our policies, and quite frankly, I’d have to agree with him. You need to leave your office.” 

“I’ll clean it myself,” Caitlyn countered stubbornly. “I haven’t found the time to do so. He needn’t worry.” 

“Of course he’s worried!” Grayson erupted at her in her well-known sheriff tone, something Caitlyn barely got firsthand experience with. Almost never on the receiving end. “We’re all worried. We can’t have our most notorious officer skulk in her workplace for days without questioning her competence for the job.” 

“Competence?” Caitlyn scoffed in offense. “Who else would be as qualified?” 

Grayson sighed. “It’s not about that, Kiramman. Professionals need to be able to take care of themselves in order to remain proficient. If you are incapable to do so, you ought to sit back.” 

Sit back? Caitlyn found the remark preposterous. If anything, she was most deserving of the badge, far more than any of her lackluster colleagues. Within mere years, Caitlyn had skyrocketed up the ladder among the Enforcers, the youngest Sheriff candidate that has ever been, and it had been nothing but hard work and determination that had gotten her there. But Grayson wasn’t a rookie when it came to Caitlyn Kiramman. She’d figured the girl out a long time ago. 

“You’re sidelined for today’s operation. Marcus will take your place.” 

“Excuse me?” Caitlyn sputtered. 

“That’s an order, deputy.” Caitlyn visibly winced at Grayson’s use of the low-ranking title. “You haven’t slept a wink and procedure requires our agents to be rested, especially for a crucial mission like this. If you can’t follow our policies, I suggest you take a good look at yourself in the mirror and understand my directive.” 

“I’m the one that got us here,” Caitlyn challenged. “This is my objective. I deserve to be a part of it.” 

Grayson shook her head, almost as if to scold Caitlyn like she were a little kid. “This is exactly why I will not allow you to. Your perspective on this job has only declined, and I fear you’ve started slacking. The Enforcers are not a one-man army, Kiramman.” 

Grayson held her gaze sternly onto Caitlyn’s, battling the younger girl’s persistency. In the end, Caitlyn chewed the inside of her cheek in forced obedience, relenting to her superior. 

The Sheriff spun on her heel, holding the door of Caitlyn’s office open. “Now, young Kiramman, go home. You’re officially on leave.” 

Powder’s workshop had always been... a bit interesting to Vi. Deciding to turn remnants of an airship’s propellor into a lab was certainly something Vi didn’t find entirely out of place for her sister. Still, the thought was quite entertaining– Powder and Ekko had enough wealth by now to construct a more appropriate workplace, yet the old part of the airship, wedged in-between the Fissure’s cliffs, sufficed for both of them. 

Vi had been dragged there the day after Caitlyn had stormed out of the penthouse. Which meant Vi did not have a great night, or sleep for that matter. Neither Powder or Ekko had returned home, but soon it became clear as to why they hadn’t. 

The two of them had visited Piltover, specifically the president, Heimerdinger. Ekko was currently nose-deep in a thick book that apparently was filled with a bunch of notes from the scientist Yordle. They consisted mostly of information about the Arcane, which Heimerdinger had collected from since the last Rune War. Vi would occasionally snatch a look at the pages, seeing images of ancient mages and strange symbols– runes, Powder had taught her. 

Those runes were supposed to help Vi with whatever was going on with her body. The flaring pains had gradually transitioned into a consistent faint pressure. It was bothersome to a degree, but preferable to the excruciating sensation she’d felt before. 

“Stop being so restless,” Powder scolded her as Vi once again fiddled around. “We are doing this for you, you know.” 

“I don’t see why you’re bugging yourselves with this so much. It’s just some pain. Nothing I can’t handle.” 

Powder seethed at her nonchalant comment. “Do not sugarcoat it, Vi. It’s only grown worse. Don’t you understand how fucked up it is that your prosthetic is literally merged with your body? It’s not supposed to be like that.” 

“So, what is then?! Some magic that screwed me up all those years ago and is still messing with me? Sorry, but how can I really give a fuck when it all sounds so stupid.” 

Powder looked like she was ready to scratch out her eyes, but before the siblings could really get into their typical cat-and-dog fight, Ekko interrupted them calmly. 

“Guys, look at this.” He pointed at one of the pages depicting a large tree, littered with symbols. “These are Wild Runes.” 

Whilst Powder actually gripped the book in bewilderment, Vi remained dumbfounded. “Okay, so now what?” 

Ekko chuckled. “It’s still confusing to me as well, but Wild Runes are different from the runes the mages wielded. Let’s say; Wild Runes are like natural events. They are alive, sort of like nature is. Wild Runes appear at will, unlike normal runes that need to be written or carved down.” 

“So, runes are passive while Wild Runes are active?” Vi added quizzingly. 

“Something like that yeah.” Ekko held his chin in deep thought. “The Hexgem could’ve embedded the Arcane in your body from the force of its explosion. Which means the Arcane is somehow alive within you.” 

“Making it a Wild Rune.” 

“Exactly,” Ekko nodded at Vi with a big grin across his face. 

The three of them shared a moment of excitement, finally able to unravel the missing pieces bit by bit. 

“Wait, so that means the changes to your body, are like, in your body,” Powder said to break their buzzing silence. “Wild Runes are adapting to you, and they’re causing reactions.” 

“That’s why the scars keep lighting up, and there’s senses in the prosthetic. The Arcane is helping me move and feel through the metal.” 

“This is honestly groundbreaking technology,” Ekko whistled, mesmerized. “I can’t believe no one thought of this.” 

Vi’s mind flashed back to last night’s conversation with the officer. Caitlyn had mentioned Jayce, the inventor whose place she had tried to steal from. Ekko was wrong– someone did think of it. He simply never had the chance to finish his research, which could’ve helped so many people, because Vi had ruined everything. An all-too-familiar knot formed in her belly. 

Though, she needn’t feel guilty for long. 

Ekko turned to the next page. The same tree that showed was now rotten and decayed, its green leaves ashen grey and the once majestic trunk hunched over in expiration. The notes Heimerdinger had scribbled beside it left nothing to interpretation. 

Arcane wasn’t intended to be tampered with. Wild Runes could not sustain in living matter. It would slowly taint its host and drain them of their energy– their life– leaving them for dead. Which meant... 

“Vi,” Powder breathed uncontrollably, and Ekko cursed out loud, slamming the desk the book rested on. 

But their noises didn’t reach Vi’s ears. She blankly stared at the page, reading the one sentence Heimerdinger had furiously underlined. 

‘Death is inevitable.’  

Chapter Text

It dawned upon Vi that her body was quickly deteriorating. She couldn’t actually feel it physically happen, but after more insight on Heimerdinger’s notes, it was clear that the Arcane had passively taken her over for the past couple of months, which meant Vi did not have much time left until her organs would start failing, or her brain would start melting, or she’d have a heart attack– what she wanted to say is; She wasn’t sure how it’d go down, but that was the scariest part, if Vi was being honest. 

She was a walking ticking timebomb without a timer. 

Powder and Ekko had holed themselves up at their workshop after the discovery, desperately trying to seek a solution, and as for Vi, she thought she should tell the family. Vander had taken it the worst. Silco, Claggor and Mylo had expressed their worry too, of course, but her dad put majority of the blame on himself. A trait Vi had wholly inherited from him. Vi decided to just drop the news during their shift at the Last Drop. It was easier to treat her impending future like it was something casual. As if it were a quick update on gossips, sport news, or anything trivial as such. Because if Vi acted indifferent to her possible soon-to-be demise, she could ignore that constant anxiety swirling inside her stomach. 

Vi had spent the past few days with her family. They all learned to avoid the subject, and Vi was glad they did. She would’ve gone crazy at the overbearing treatment, the constant gloom that was protruded. Vi was never one to appear weak, nor did she want to. So instead, the family had opted to handle the situation in consideration of Vi, and either ignored it altogether or talked openly about it. 

Vi was currently enjoying a peaceful evening with her dad and Powder, lingering around the closed bar. The time grew well into early morning hours, but good company never heeded missed sleep. Powder was holding a passionate dialogue on what she and Ekko had been reading about the Arcane lately, and Vi was grateful that her little sister was so carefree in her words, rather than lather it with pity. 

So yeah, it had been a peaceful evening. Just cherishing some of the time she had left with her favourite people. That was, until Silco barged through the Last Drop’s entrance. 

The three of them startled and looked up at him. Silco was coated in a thin layer of sweat with his already pale exterior a few shades lighter. His frantic eyes caught them sitting, and Vi could just tell from his jumpiness that he didn’t come bearing good news. 

“The Enforcer raid at the docks,” he panted in exhaustion, seemingly having ran here, “it’s completely gone wrong.”

 The soft rustling of a willow spread harmony among coarse dirt and granite. 

Caitlyn had lost count on how long she’d stood there, beneath hanging leaves, reading carved letters on polished stone, where the spirit meets its bones. Her usual navy uniform was exchanged for a solid black one, mandatory for high-ranking officials when attending such occasions. The distinguished badges were primly adorned on her sleeve with her family’s crest sewn on the other, the Enforcer’s emblem on her front. 

The decorated military attire would normally have her chest puffed. She loved wearing it– feeling the heaviness of her rank and uniform as she showed off all her impressive achievements in shapes of insignias and neat fabrics. Yet, Caitlyn couldn’t help but dread the garments she was forced to wear today. 

However, there was one attribute she didn’t wear on her sleeves, the one she was currently weakly holding in a white-gloved hand; The Sheriff’s badge. 

A week ago, Caitlyn had been sent home by her boss, and was put on official leave, meaning she had to miss out on their intervention at the Shimmer warehouse. Soon after though, in the late hours of yet another sleepless night, she’d been called up by the station, and she first wondered if it was to receive the paperwork she had to fill out on her temporary expel from the Enforcers. But upon hearing the deep voice of one of their lieutenants, Caitlyn immediately understood the dire situation. 

The operation had failed. 

Caitlyn disassociated further and further with each word the lieutenant droned. There was something they’d missed, even with their extensive preparations, they’d miscalculated such a foreseeable fact. 

Shimmer was flammable. 

Grayson and Marcus had successfully infiltrated the facility with their squad, as all reports of that fateful day clearly stated, but faltered in the end when the Chem-barons had lit the place up to flee. None of the officers had expected the self-sabotage– that the culprits were willing enough to blow up their cache as a last resort. The Shimmer explosion had brought the bunker to complete wreckage, debris of rocks and remainders of the purple drug now floating in the lake. 

Everyone on the strike-team had perished. 

And Caitlyn was appointed Sheriff effective immediately. 

It was rage what Caitlyn felt. Pure and thorough rage from deep within the marrow of her bones. She was angry at the department for placing the new role upon her as soon as Grayson had taken her last breath. She was angry at Grayson for leaving her behind, whether in angle of the operation she wanted to be included in, so she might’ve been able to do something to prevent its disaster, or in the means of passing away too soon– Caitlyn was furious with her older boss. 

And so, so hurt that Grayson was no longer here with her. 

As if the universe had landed another giant joke on Caitlyn to pester all her sorrow and grief, there had been a sole survivor of the explosion. 

Dr. Reveck’s face had practically melted off, and he was currently being treated in the restricted area of some Piltovian hospital, restraint to his bed and a stay in Stillwater imminent, but he was alive . Singed, as Caitlyn had come to understand from the reports, had sacrificed himself to ignite the Shimmer and cover for his associate’s getaway. When interrogated, he had boldly revealed that the whole drug experiment was personal, and that he hoped the escaped collaborators would continue his work. He openly pleaded guilty, saying he didn’t regret anything, not when Shimmer was a mere stop in his journey to find a cure for his sick daughter. 

Caitlyn’s first task as Sheriff of Piltover was sentencing Singed to life in prison. Almost ironic, if you’d ask her, how someone like Jayce and Dr. Reveck could end up in the same place by same reasons, their differences stark yet so narrow. 

Now, Caitlyn lingered in the aftermath of Marcus and Grayson’s funeral. Every officer had attended to pay respects and provide the mandatory funeral honours. Caitlyn too, had fired her rifle, releasing the bullet into the sky to let it fade in wry peace. She’d also given a speech, as required from the Sheriff’s next-in-line, but more akin to being Grayson’s personal friend. Caitlyn addressed the crowd professionally, wavering just slightly when muffled sobs from Grayson’s wife were heard, to which Caitlyn had swallowed back the hoarseness of her throat to finish her tributes to the late Sheriff. 

Shortly after the pair of sleek black coffins had been lowered, the lieutenant had approached her, handing her a beige envelope with a curt salute. She stiffly returned the gesture, and upon seeing the back of the letter, Caitlyn wasn’t surprised that the proud crest of her family was stamped on the seal flap in indigo wax. The crisscrossed keys almost taunting her as the similar needlework on her military blazer weighed against her bicep.  

However, what Caitlyn hadn’t expected, was the neat cursive handwriting in ink on the front of the envelope. ‘Mom & Dad’, Caitlyn read. The message most likely regarded the passing of her mentor, orderly condolences given, but they had never addressed themselves like that in any of the desperate letters they’d previously sent her. As if her parents knew to strip their title and appear humble to offer Caitlyn some sincere sense of compassion. It made her grasp the letter a tad tighter. But she didn’t have it in her to unfold it. 

The willow shielded her from the biting brightness of the sun, as Caitlyn let her eyes travel repeatedly over the carvings on Grayson’s tombstone, colourful flower arrangements and melted candles littered below, while she clutched the hollow badge in her left, and the unopened letter in her right. 

And for the first time in forever, Caitlyn was finally able to realize; 

She felt so alone.

Waking up in cold sweat became regular for Vi. Every day she opened her eyes to her bedroom ceiling, she was both relieved and fearful. Her heart rapidly pounded each time she reminded herself this could very well be the last morning she’d witness. 

There was no progress in her siblings’ research. No matter how hard they tried, and how many nights they’d spent overworking, Powder and Ekko just couldn’t deduce the unknown that was the Arcane. Heimerdinger’s notes were limited. Ekko told them the Yordle had always dismissed the ancient form of magic and never dabbled further into it, since it went against his own virtues and the literal law of the City of Progress. 

So, Vi was still doomed, awaiting whatever was to come. 

That didn’t take away from her daily activities, though. Sure, she had ousted the pit fights, purely to please Powder, but Vi still took shifts at the Last Drop, more than ever, just to take her mind off of things. 

Though, Vi wished she could satiate that edge like how she’d done last time. When her needs were fulfilled in the form of a certain officer. 

She hadn’t seen the woman in over a week, which made sense, given how everything had escalated so quickly. Besides Vi’s declining health, something the officer wasn’t even made aware of, Vi was sure Caitlyn has had an awful week in its own means. 

After the now infamous failed raid on the Shimmer warehouse, the Undercity was launched into chaos. Enforcers patrolled the streets twice as much– if not more– and posters of so called Chem-barons were scattered across the city, signed by the Sheriff of Piltover, whom Vi wasn’t surprised to learn was Caitlyn Kiramman as of recent. 

Vander had told Vi of Grayson’s death during the mission, and that he wasn’t allowed to attend her funeral yesterday due to formalities of Grayson being a military figure. Only close family members and officials had been present to pay tribute, which meant Caitlyn had been there too. Vi couldn’t even comprehend what the girl was going through. To lose someone so dear in her life to needless violence. 

But selfishly, Vi was glad to know Caitlyn was alive. 

As Vi threaded through down town Zaun, on her way to work, she walked past swarms of Enforcers and some agitated Zaunites. They had never been fans of the navy cladded force, particularly wary now that officers were actively concluding investigations in the Undercity. Vi knew from somewhere in the back of her mind that it had to do with being under a new rule. Caitlyn did seem like the type to go all out, especially now that she was encouraged by the passing of her late boss. 

“Hey, you!” 

Vi’s boots came to a stop on the pavement. She curiously looked around, thinking the words were meant for her, used to Zaunite’s catcalling whilst she walked the street. And well, they had been directed at her, since one Enforcer had broken away from his group and was now approaching Vi. He looked kind enough for Vi not to retort with some rude slang. The marine Vastayan halted before her, polite meters in distance. 

“Sorry if I startled you. My name is Steb.” 

“Vi,” she replied stonily. “Who are you exactly?” 

“I am Sheriff Kiramman’s newly appointed second in command.” His face grew serious. “After our department has practically fallen apart.” 

Vi relaxed her tense shoulders, giving Steb some show of sympathy. “Sorry for your loss.” 

He smiled warmly in response, and shook his head softly. “Never mind that. It’s not why I came to bother you. I’ve actually seen you visit the station a few times, and I wonder if you and miss Kiramman are still on speaking terms?” 

“Hah,” Vi almost snorted, “Less speaking, more of other things, if we’re being honest.” 

Steb did not respond other than giving her a deadpan expression and a slight scrunch of his aquamarine face. Then, he cleared his throat. “She’s given me a somewhat... personal order, though I do not deem it professional enough to carry it out comfortably. Unless you have no problem with it?” 

“And what does your Sheriff want, exactly?” Vi crossed her arms. 

“She’s requested to see you.” 

Of course. Of course, Caitlyn Kiramman would have some loyal officer of hers drag Vi from the streets of Zaun in a desperate attempt to see her. The girl hadn’t even been in command for more than a couple of days and was already barking out orders in egotistical manners. The corner of her mouth slightly lifted upwards.  

Fuck her job. There were more important matters at hand. 

“Then I suppose you can bring me to her, officer.”

Parading through the station, Vi noticed the state of upheaval among the employees, or lack thereof, she should say. The few Enforcers present were hastily moving back and forth, passing over reports and notes, writing furiously at their desks. The rest was probably sent off to Zaun. At the end of the pathway, the Sheriff’s office almost loomed over the room. Steb stopped her right outside of it, an arm held out in front of her. 

“I’m sure you know how she is,” he began hesitantly, “but after Grayson... She’s been quite distraught. A fine leader, still. No Enforcer would ever question that. But she’s more drawn back than before.” 

“Impressive,” Vi grumbled. “And here I was thinking that’s impossible.” 

Steb did smile at that, though demurely. He couldn’t quite disrespect his superior, after all. “Just beware. It’s why I agreed to bring you here, actually.” 

Vi raised a crooked brow. “What do you mean?” 

“I reckoned you might be the one person able to break off some of those walls she’s built.” He shrugged. “She always did seem easy around you.” 

Oh okay. Vi was now relied on by Caitlyn’s co-workers so they didn’t have to deal with a cranky boss. And soon, Vi had to enter the dragon’s lair, without armour, besides the tiny grip she had on Caitlyn’s more sexual aspects of her life. Vi looked at the glass panel on the office door. In big fancy letters ‘Sheriff Kiramman’ was plastered on the window. And who would Vi be to deny that she was being turned on by the title just a bit. 

“Sure, yeah. Sounds about right,” she grimaced at the Vastayan. 

Steb parted from her with dip of his head, indicating a ‘good luck’, before she softly knocked and entered when a raspy ‘come in’ was called back. 

Upon seeing a flash of pink, Caitlyn actually looked up from her desk to address the visitor. A visitor that wasn’t adorned in uniform, for once, but a black leather jacket she had come to know all too well. Caitlyn stood from her plush chair. 

“Vi?” 

“What’s up, cupcake.” 

Vi took a moment to take Caitlyn in. The Sheriff looked the same to her in basically everything, unlike Steb had told her. The only difference came in an accessory Caitlyn now wore on her belt; The Sheriff’s badge, neatly strapped to her hip. And perhaps the deep crinkle of a frown on her forehead, which wasn’t exactly unfamiliar to Vi but something she hadn’t seen in a while. 

“You came,” Caitlyn said, her big blue eyes softening at Vi. 

“Well, not in cuffs, if that’s what you expected. You don’t have to be all shy and send for me, you know.” 

“Practicality,” the Sheriff waved off. “I have been couped up here, dealing with some remarkable tasks. Apparently being head of a city’s judiciary requires tedious work.” 

“Like sending half of your units to induce fear on Zaunites?” Vi clenched her jaw as she abruptly cut Caitlyn’s aloofness off. 

The rightly pointed-out accusation jolted Caitlyn momentarily, not predicting Vi’s sudden change of mood. Vi did slightly feel bad at lashing out like that, but it had to be said. 

She slammed her hands on the oak desk. “Ever since you gained your position, the streets have become restless. People are scared , Caitlyn!” 

“What would you have me do?!” Caitlyn rebutted, back in her hardened stature with practised ease. “Smeech, Chross, Margot– they’re still somewhere out there. They killed Grayson, Vi. Caused havoc amongst the entire department, and it’s me who has to deal with the consequences– to glue everything back together like Grayson was never even here to begin with!” 

And Vi got reminded of how young Caitlyn actually was by the weariness of her voice and the expression she wore. Her regal features stood out more when acting stern, ageing her up. An almost unfair notion, forced upon her by the weight of duty she carried. Vi longed for the girl who was shamelessly herself– who looked her age, unburdened and pretty, like Caitlyn deserved to be perceived. Vi’s hold on the desk slackened. 

“You don’t have to do it alone,” she said softly, eyeing Caitlyn cautiously to try and exert some comfort over her. “But being so hellbent on finding them at the cost of innocent citizens; it’s not like you, Cait.” 

The Sheriff’s frown disappeared at the nickname. Instead, she weakly leaned against the edge of her desk, arms folded. “I-I know. I just... am not thinking straight.” 

“I get it,” Vi smiled sheepishly. 

“Her funeral was yesterday,” Caitlyn said distantly. “It made me realize so much, yet I cannot seem to act on any of it. It’s like I’m stuck in some downward spiral with no rope to get me out of it.” 

There it was. The frailty on Caitlyn that made her look young again. A softness that Vi– dare she say it out loud– had come to love. A feeling that had snuck up on her like an apex predator and had buried its claws in her, ripping her open to vulnerability. She had to resist the biting urge in every fibre of her body not to run past the desk and hold the fragile woman. 

Vi couldn’t tell her she felt the same. Being in a downward spiral without any escape, crashing toward the unknown– The Arcane. She just couldn’t lay it on Caitlyn. Not now. 

“You requested to see me,” Vi decided to say, pulling Caitlyn from her thoughts. “Must be serious, if you ordered your deputy to pluck me from the street.” 

“Uhm, yeah, I thought– I honestly don’t know what I thought.” Caitlyn looked away and visibly blushed. “Perhaps, some distraction. Uh, like company, I mean.” 

“How awfully professional of you, Sheriff.” Vi grinned when Caitlyn narrowed her eyes at her. “Though, I think I can distract you plenty well by helping you out with your actual source of stress.” 

Caitlyn pondered over the implication. “With catching the Chem-barons? How?” 

“I know my city, and you have to understand it as well if you wanna be able to find them.” Vi circled around the ordinate desk, trailing her platinum hand over the polished wood. Suddenly, the predator had become the prey. “I’ll teach you the ropes if you’re willing to learn.” 

Caitlyn scoffed, amused and slightly flustered. ”You teaching me how to do my job?” 

Vi came to a stop, right in front of the officer, squaring her up against her desk. Caitlyn’s breath hitched. “Let’s see if you’re a fast learner, Princess.” 

Cerulean blue scanned over Vi’s face, for a second lingering on scarred lips, before Caitlyn grinned in agreement.

“These boots have heels, Vi.” 

They stood at the bottom of a high-rise building in a dirty alleyway. Vi had taken Caitlyn into the depths of the Fissures, a place filled with trash-spilling dumpsters and wicked people creeping the area. Normally, Vi would never have brought the officer to such a part of town, somewhere the Sheriff looked so out of place. The thrown looks at Caitlyn had only added to this conclusion. But the girl was steadfast to see Vi through, and was now observing the wall of bricks she’d soon had to climb, much to her annoyance. 

“This is supposed to aid me in my search?” 

“You Enforcers walk the streets as if the barons wouldn’t see you coming from miles away,” Vi said smugly. “They have eyes all over the city, so you need a route that’s a bit more secluded .” 

“Hm,” Caitlyn responded unconvincingly. 

“C’mon, Cupcake, it’s child’s play. My twelve-year-old sister could do this.” 

“I know Powder. That’s nothing short of impressive.” 

Vi chuckled as she leaned against the brick wall. “You’re telling me someone of your great position is scared of some clambering?” 

“I’m not scared!” Caitlyn retorted, then smoothed herself down. “It seems unpractical, is all.” 

“You and your practicality.” Vi shook her head in faux exasperation. “I should’ve known you were gonna be stubborn. Believe me, Sheriff, this is your best shot at catching your beloved criminals. Besides, the view is a nice bonus.” 

Caitlyn looked as if she wanted to scold Vi for calling out her stubbornness, but she tentatively bit her lip instead. Vi smirked, knowing that Caitlyn’s same stubbornness would make her follow her, when she suddenly jumped on one of the dumpsters and hoisted herself up by loose bricks and a rusty fire-escape. 

“Get going, Cupcake! Don’t let me out of sight,” she called back down below before speeding her way up. 

Vi smiled to herself, hearing the disgruntled noise Caitlyn released. 

She scaled up the side of the building in adept fashion. Her feet swiftly left and met surface as her arms pulled her closer to the top. The rush of adrenaline flooded through her veins, making her feel so alive. Almost a nostalgic feeling, given how many times she’d done this in her childhood. Racing across rooftops with her siblings, caring for a shaky Powder, jumping off platforms and clinging to windows and balconies. 

Vi reached the upper part of the building, her combat boots landing with a soft ‘thud’. She lingered by the edge, looking over her city. Zaun was always ethereal in the night. Neon greens and purples glowing in the streets as people hustled around for company and a good time. 

She wanted to consume the view. For however long she was allowed to. For however long she had left in this world. 

After a while, an almost exaggerated groan sounded behind her, making her turn to spot a very dishevelled Caitlyn push herself over the edge. The Sheriff rolled over as soon as she’d found safe concrete, panting up into the sky. Vi chuckled at the image. 

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

“Do not say another word,” Caitlyn rasped. 

Vi walked over and reached out her hands, offering to pull the officer back onto her feet. Caitlyn begrudgingly accepted and Vi gave her a firm tug to help her stand again. They stumbled together at the force– Vi sometimes forgot her own strength– and were now chest to chest, Caitlyn swallowing back parts of her heavy breathing. The intimacy wasn’t lost to Vi, not with how Caitlyn was looking at her. Who once was an uptight and nameless officer to Vi, now looked at her like she held the stars currently above them in the rings of her powder blue irises. A gloved finger reached up, caressing the skin beneath her tattoo. 

Vi stepped away from her touch. She couldn’t. She shouldn’t. Caitlyn didn’t know her truth. Didn’t know about her . Vi refused to drag Caitlyn down with her when she’d just reached the top– the heights of her career, everything she ever wanted. To respect Vi, Caitlyn maintained her distance, holding herself meekly. 

Vi felt bad at the sight, so she directed Caitlyn with a nudge of her head toward the rooftop’s curb and sat down, slinging her legs over the edge. Caitlyn reluctantly placed herself next to Vi, but with her own legs tucked up. 

They sat for a while, simply enjoying the view. The silence stretched over them comfortably yet Vi could hear Caitlyn’s fretting beside her. Feeling the sudden need to comfort her again, Vi spoke up. “Hey, I’m sorry. I’m just not really used to... affection.” 

“Me either,” Caitlyn whispered. “I know I’m not the type to display it. I mean, last time I even fled from your apartment when all you wanted to do was help. So, I’m the one who’s sorry, really.” 

“It’s okay, Cupcake. That conversation was kinda loaded, it makes sense.” Caitlyn didn’t respond nor turned to face Vi. She simply hummed airily as if to refute Vi’s forgiveness, and it made Vi mentally pout. The officer was so lost in her own mind sometimes that she clouded the people around her. The care they had for her. Vi recalled how Caitlyn had been pacing, fidgeting with her pocket watch to subdue her raging emotions. It seemed like some sort of coping mechanism. A strange one, if Vi had to be honest, and she’d grown curious about it. “You had a pocket watch, back then. Do you mind me asking why?” 

“Family heirloom,” Caitlyn answered flatly. 

“You know that’s not what I meant, Cait.” 

Caitlyn sighed, resting the side of her cheek atop her knee. “It’s... It keeps me from thinking too much. I mentally tally the ticking. I don’t know, but I find reprieve in it– counting time. It makes me feel like I have some sort of control over it.” Caitlyn took a shaky breath. “Even though I’ve been proven repeatedly that it’s not the case.” 

Time. It was an aspect of life Vi currently found herself struggling with as well. Not knowing how much time she had left. It was a daunting concept. But Vi humours the fact that she keeps finding intertwining parts of their lives. How they’d started out with less than nothing in common, only to unravel each part, bit by bit, until the two of them were left with an abundance of similarities. She wondered if Caitlyn had noticed too. 

But then again, Vi hadn’t told Caitlyn the ugly truth about herself yet. And to hear Caitlyn mourn so deeply about lost time– Vi didn’t have it in her to add onto it. So, instead, she simply rested her hand on top of Caitlyn’s own gloved one, also reprimanding for rejecting her touch earlier. 

Caitlyn soundlessly interlaced their fingers as they watched the cityscape. Time forgotten between them. 

Chapter Text

Caitlyn had gotten exceptionally better over the course of the investigation. 

Vi watched her leap across rooftops with practiced ease, almost as if the teenager version of herself had been beside a younger Vi when she’d still tormented the roofs of Zaun and Piltover alike along with her siblings. It made Vi proud to see the rigid officer be so free in her parkouring now. Caitlyn had even forgone that absurdly rigid hairstyle of hers in preference of a loose ponytail.  

“I like how it sways in the wind,” she’d told Vi, as Vi combed through the midnight strands, before Caitlyn hopped over to the next structure. Vi eagerly chased after her, often forgetting the fact they were on an actual important mission. It was hilarious to see the other Enforcers first experience their fearless leader climb up the side of a building, just to order them to replicate it. They’d look confusingly at each other, before clumsily following after the Sheriff. 

In just a few weeks, the squad and Vi had cleared out the remaining Chem-barons. “See,” Vi had told Caitlyn after they’d captured Margot, who was being escorted to the police carriage, “I told you this would work.” 

“Mhm,” Caitlyn teased back, “I ought to make an officer out of you then.” 

The thought never crossed her mind, obviously. It wasn’t like Vi was going to be here any time soon anyways. So, Vi responded with a cheeky grin, burying the grim truth far from where Caitlyn could discover. And Caitlyn was unaware of it all. 

Until Vi’s state visibly worsened. 

During the raid on Chross’ hideout, Vi had stumbled after a jump, feet unable to find their grounding. Caitlyn had caught her before she’d tumble off the roof, a scrutinizing look across her face as she heaved Vi up. Vi had chalked it away with cheap excuses. ‘My laces are a bit loose’, ‘I’m just a little sore from my workout yesterday’, ‘Powder and I got drunk last night, still feeling a bit woozy.’ 

Caitlyn had scolded her for the latter, emphasizing that an officer on the job wasn’t allowed to consume alcohol a day ahead of a crucial mission, to which Vi would combat her by saying she technically was not an Enforcer. Caitlyn rolled her eyes, but still congratulated her alongside the other members for their fantastic work on Chross’ arrest. Vi would laugh and cheer among her temporary colleagues, and when no one else was looking, she’d reach for her shoulder, massaging the junctures. 

Vi didn’t notice, however, that Caitlyn had spectated her from afar. 

Sometimes, they’d all celebrate together. The strike-team would keep Vander occupied for the night, pints rolling in as they were free to do what they wanted without repercussion from their Sheriff. Because Caitlyn would join them, and so would Vi, who steadfastly ignored her dad’s fussing and warning glances. They drank and chatted until the bar closed, and they all went home, preparing for next day’s tiresome paperwork on their completed raid. 

And other times, later on those evenings when their colleagues had returned home, Caitlyn and Vi would celebrate further with just the two of them. Celebrate as in; Vi would slam Caitlyn against a door, or any other surface that sufficed, and whisper filth into her ear until the well-respected Sheriff came with a strangled scream, both still half adorned in their uniforms. 

“Seeing you with that rifle today really got me going, you know,” Vi had husked the first time, mere hours after they’d successfully infiltrated Margot’s business. The image of Caitlyn waltzing in with her barrel pointed at the Chem-baroness, and that delectable stern voice she used, fresh in Vi’s memory. “God, no wonder the Enforcers follow you like sheep. You’re so fucking irresistible.” 

Caitlyn would chide her for crude remarks regarding her career, and then pride her for every swipe of a tongue and stroke of a finger. 

And this became routine for each finished job. 

The sex after Chross’ incarceration was nothing but mind-blowing. Caitlyn had eaten Vi out in the back of the Enforcer van when everyone had vacated their proximity and after Vi had made it clear she wasn’t a big fan of penetration herself, but didn’t mind being pleased otherwise. So, Caitlyn had promptly instructed her faithful employees to take their arrestee inside the station and start their reporting, which had made them groan in united disappointment, but quickly saluted the order when Caitlyn had strictly glared at them. 

The whole interaction had made Vi snicker, which was swiftly exchanged for a gulp when the Sheriff kneeled before her, tugging at her waistband. Oh, to have the head of an entire city’s law enforcement eat you out in the back of some bulletproof plated vehicle like she’d been starving for years. Vi had come so fast. And soon enough, that same vehicle had been shaking along to how hard Vi was fucking the Sheriff upright, pressed up against the back doors of the carriage. 

Their last Chem-baron would have to trump it, though. After all, Smeech was the one Caitlyn has had most difficulty with, unsuccessful in many frustrating attempts to locate him. Vi was sure that frustration would have the Sheriff make their celebratory night one to remember. Perhaps it would be their final time together like that. Not that Caitlyn knew. Vi still hadn’t told her. She cared about the now, and the now was filled with the officer Vi had slowly but surely fallen head over heels for. 

“Secure the perimeter,” Caitlyn called out to her unit on the night of what would be their final raid, “Move in when I give the signal.” 

The Sheriff had lined up her shot atop a secluded balcony of one of Zaun’s more modern buildings near the northside of the city, where Powder and Vi had their own apartment. Smeech had stayed hidden well, but with some insider information, they’d finally managed to track him down. Vi should’ve known his greed and narcissistic tendencies would have him opt for some fancy penthouse. It was different from Margot and Chross, who’d holed up in the darkest corners of the Undercity. Smeech seemed like the easier task to accomplish. 

And it had been. 

The Enforcers acted on Caitlyn’s command, moving in at once, catching Smeech and his associates off-guard. Vi was the one to put the cuffs on the ratty Yordle who’d snapped at her. “A pit fighter champion reduced to some Topsider’s lap dog. How pathetic.” 

Vi shrugged the comment off, selfishly pressing a boot to his back as Caitlyn’s forces took him away, just to have the last laugh. The final Chem-baron objective felt weirdly melancholic when it had ended. Vi was elated to know they’d caught all the culprits, and the city could focus on healing and removing Shimmer from its streets now. But somewhere, somehow, she felt empty without it. 

The past weeks had been rough and sleepless, that was true, but Vi really treasured the closeness she and the Sheriff had developed during it, and how quickly Caitlyn had warmed up to her.  

There were days they fully spent together, where they started their mornings with cheap station coffee and ended their evenings with bad quality takeout dinner, which Vi more often than not had to swap with Caitlyn’s, because the officer had preferred Vi’s food choices over her own. Vi would just chuckle and slide her meal over to Caitlyn who happily pricked and prodded at it until the plastic container was empty. And Vi was content with eating Caitlyn’s failed takeout orders, because the satisfied smile Caitlyn wore due to a full belly was worth more than anything else in the world to Vi. 

Not once did she sulk or regret sharing all of her time with Caitlyn. Maybe, in a perfect universe, Vi would find herself by Caitlyn’s side for the rest of her long, fulfilled life. It just wasn’t meant to be in this one. 

Vi sought out Caitlyn among the group of Enforcers. They had gathered on the road outside Smeech’s apartment, clearing up the blockades they’d put down. She spotted her beloved Sheriff talking to Steb, who nodded at everything she said to him, scribbling it down in his small notepad. Upon seeing Vi approach them, Steb gave Caitlyn a nod her way, and smugly retreated to give them some privacy. 

“Perfectly orchestrated as always, ma’am,” Vi complimented her somewhat mockingly. 

“And you, sir, did such a fine job yourself,” Caitlyn joked back, her Sheriff attitude completely relinquished in the presence of Vi. And Vi absolutely gloated at that. 

“I have to say, Cupcake, I’m impressed with your advances in navigating through these slums. Sounds like you’ve got a good teacher. And a hot one too.” 

Caitlyn affectionately rolled her eyes and nudged Vi’s hip with her own. “Oh, hush it. Should I acclaim how lucky I am?” 

“Keep it for your next weekly public appearance,” Vi said with all bravado mustered, yet she felt that knot of withholding Caitlyn from her terminal condition thump against her ribs. Their situation was far from lucky.

“That would be highly unprofessional,” Caitlyn quipped, unbeknownst to Vi’s whirling thoughts. The gesture of Caitlyn trailing her hand up Vi’s forearm to her bicep only highlighted her playful state. “People will start talking. Their Sheriff shacking up with some freelancer.” 

“How scandalous,” Vi chuckled low. God, she was torn– torn between giving in to her selfish desires, and telling Caitlyn the truth. It wasn’t helping when Caitlyn travelled the hand on her arm further up to her neck, playing with the little pink strands at the back. “Bold, doing this so in the open, Sheriff.” 

Caitlyn huffed amusingly. “These are my entrusted followers, they won’t mind. Not that they can make remarks on it, anyway.” Caitlyn smirked, fully confident of her high position. “Besides, I’m quite certain they all know. We haven’t exactly been discreet.” 

Vi scoffed. “That’s because you can’t keep your hands to yourself.” 

“Can you blame me? You look great in uniform.” 

Vi despised the uniform. It clung to her body like an extra layer of skin, and the collar was itchy, and Vi sure as hell was not going to wear that cursed beret. But Caitlyn had recited the department’s guidelines to Vi like it had been her favourite bedtime story as a child, so Vi ended up wearing the entire thing anyway. Just with the collar upright, and the dumb hat tied to her belt. 

“Hm, the prestigious Sheriff of Piltover feeling up a citizen of Zaun right here on the street. What a sight to behold.” 

“You want discretion?” the Sheriff hotly whispered in her ear. “Then take me back to your place.” 

A chill went down her spine, like an ice bucket had been thrown over her, and Vi’s foggy mind instantly cleared up. Caitlyn was all-consuming. A vixen that plagued her entire being. Her self-torment was gone for a split second, and Vi could do nothing but give in to her selfish desires. 

Vi had been so right about the Sheriff’s frustration on the job emboldening their sex. Or at least, she knew it was gonna be.  

They’d crashed down on Vi’s bed as soon as they’d entered her bedroom. Vi immediately took off her tight ass jacket and shoes, as Caitlyn did her boots and gloves, before Vi jumped the Sheriff. She was lathering Caitlyn’s throat until her saliva dripped down over blemished skin whilst Caitlyn gripped and clawed at Vi.  

After she decided she’d had her fill, Vi requested, “I want to feel you. All of you.” 

They’d slept together before, but never had they taken their time to strip themselves entirely. It’s been efficient so far, yet a bit rushed. Vi wanted something else– something more– and from the look of Caitlyn’s sly smile, the hunger was mutual. 

Caitlyn nodded in motivation when Vi started to undo each golden button. They moved slow, relishing their shared heated anticipation. Vi shrugged the navy fabric off her shoulders, revealing the white blouse beneath. She curled a finger around the red lint on her neck, removing it with a light tug along with the frilly collar. Vi felt like she was unwrapping a precious gift, slowly unravelling a beautiful expanse of milky skin. She hooked a thumb in the waistband of the officer’s trousers, dragging them down enough for Caitlyn to kick them off herself. It wasn’t until Caitlyn remained in only her underwear that Vi sat back on her heels to get a full look at her. 

Caitlyn’s chest heaved up and down. Her flat tummy flexing occasionally due to the night’s chill in the room. Most of all, Vi couldn’t shake herself from those pleading eyes Caitlyn had lodged on hers. 

“I want to see you too,” Caitlyn said almost breathlessly. Vi began to move to grant her wishes, but Caitlyn sat up and covered the hand on the hem of her shirt with her own. “Can I?” 

“Sure, go ahead, Cupcake.” Caitlyn blushed at the nickname, but continued to raise Vi’s shirt over her head. Her mouth fell open when Vi’s upper body was exposed, except for the bindings she wore around her chest, and quickly clamped it shut when Vi smirked at her. “Like what you see?” 

“Obviously,” Caitlyn answered timidly, then traced along the ridges of Vi’s abs, thumb sliding over the crest in the middle. 

Vi watched the gentle contact for a while, hearing her own breaths speed up. “Fuck, you’re driving me crazy,” she groaned beneath Caitlyn’s touch. “Stay here. I’m gonna get something real quick.” Vi grabbed Caitlyn’s hand, pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles, and dropped it on her taut stomach as she got off the Sheriff and padded to her cupboard. 

“A surprise,” Caitlyn giggled coyly. “For me?” 

“Only the best for the best.” 

Vi whipped out her favourite toy for tonight. The one Ekko had drunkenly made for her, and let her feel everything through her lovely connection with the Arcane. With Caitlyn boring holes in the back of her skull, Vi hastily took off her pants and stepped into her harness. She clicked the faux shaft in place, and an immediate surge of energy zapped through her. Seemed like that part of her condition remained fully intact. How convenient for her. 

“You scars,” Caitlyn pointed out, “They flared up.” 

It wasn’t much of a question nor an accusation, but more of an amused statement. And Vi felt partly guilty that Caitlyn didn’t know the extremities of these abnormal physiological reactions but obliviously found the blue light intriguing instead. Vi simply hid her shame with one of her trademark smirks, and hovered back over the flustered Sheriff. 

“I can feel you like this,” Vi explained, resting one palm on Caitlyn’s inner thigh and the other on her own length, “works the same as the prosthetic.” 

Caitlyn bit her lip, eyes darting to Vi’s newly attached part. Then, a firm hand pressed against Vi’s chest, and Caitlyn sat up. “Then allow me.” 

Vi let herself be rolled over, so they swapped positions. Caitlyn now crouched in-between Vi’s legs, slowly lowering her herself toward Vi’s most sensitive region. Vi sucked in a breath as mischievous cerulean held her gaze. But what Vi hadn’t expected was for Caitlyn to duck under the strap and lick across her slit instead. 

“Shit.” Vi threw her head back as Caitlyn ate her out. Images from the back of the police van flooded over her, feeling that same talented tongue stroke and prod at her. Caitlyn earnestly lapped at her folds, trailing soft muscle over her wetness as she ended with a nip at her swollen bud. The slurping noises were obscene, echoing through the bedroom. Caitlyn was insatiable– that ravenous hunger evident in the way she was basically devouring Vi. “Cait, I’m close.” 

Once again, Caitlyn caught Vi completely off-guard when she raised her head, leaving Vi hanging in unsatisfied desolation. But before Vi could complain, her eyes snapped open at feeling Caitlyn’s mouth wrap around the head of her cock. The officer had her back arched and her perfect ass up in the air, sucking Vi’s dick just as eagerly as she had done her pussy. Vi grunted to suppress a moan, and had to mentally restrain herself not to shove Caitlyn aside to grope at that cute raised-up butt. 

“Multitalented,” Vi commented with laboured breathing, gripping navy blue to shove her down further onto the strap. Caitlyn faintly gagged before recomposing herself. “You’re just a show-off, aren’t you, Sheriff?” 

Caitlyn hummed around her shaft, her tongue caressing and swirling around it as she bobbed up and down. Vi blew out a puff of air when Caitlyn reached the tip, licking the bulbous head with the very end of her tongue before impaling herself all the way to the base. Her nose nuzzled pink hair of Vi’s happy trail. The officer kept herself there, urging Vi to start moving by pressing her hands to Vi’s muscular thighs. 

Vi understood her silent wishes, and thrusted upward into her wet, awaiting mouth. Drool spattering from Caitlyn’s spread lips. “Fuck, Cupcake, this is perfect.” 

Caitlyn half-chokily whined in appreciation, stilling her head to let Vi orchestrate the pace. Vi practically face fucked the Sheriff, rough and merciless, exactly how she knew Caitlyn liked it. The pleasure began coiling in her stomach. Vi panted, taking a hold of Caitlyn’s tousled ponytail, and using it as a handle to make herself reach her peak. Caitlyn’s eyes fluttered open, tear-stricken and pleading, and up to Vi, who had to bite back a guttural moan upon seeing Caitlyn’s messy state. 

“This is perfect, Cait. So fucking perfect,” Vi chanted, then feeling that coil snap, “Fuck!” 

She emptied her load inside Caitlyn’s surprised but not-quite-appalled mouth. Vi held Caitlyn sturdily by her hair as she rocked through her orgasm, shooting ropes, and ropes of cum down the Sheriff’s throat. Caitlyn obediently stayed still, taking everything Vi had to offer. With a last grunt of being entirely spent, Vi retrieved her shaft from Caitlyn, a sound ‘pop’ when the tip of the strap slipped past her spit-stained lips. 

“God, fuck me you’re good at that. Both of that.” 

“What can I say? I aim to please. And my aim is perfect,” Caitlyn chuckled against Vi’s upper leg, her voice gruff due to her abused throat. 

“It’s always nothing but excellence with you, isn’t it?” Vi smiled, finally releasing her ponytail. Now free, Caitlyn lifted herself up, chewing her lip as she avidly stared down at the glistening strap-on. Its colour was akin to Vi’s scars and emanated a flickering hue. Vi humoured the sight of Caitlyn being more focused on Vi’s extension than Vi herself. Hands smugly folded behind her head, Vi asked her, “Is there something you want, Princess?” 

At that, Caitlyn did look directly at Vi. Blue met grey, and Vi stiffened when Caitlyn bashfully and wholeheartedly answered, “Only you.” 

The moment lingered in which they softly gazed at one another, unspoken words hidden in plain sight, until Vi felt that familiar energy flood over her, and she no longer had it in her to remain outside of Caitlyn.  

In a bold swoop she hoisted Caitlyn toward the headboard, still placed on all fours. Caitlyn whimpered at the manhandling, but dutifully arched her back for Vi, who’d stationed herself behind her on her knees. Skilled fingers released Caitlyn from her bra and thong– the skimpy fabric which Vi impishly snapped back against Caitlyn’s skin before pulling them down and off. Finally, Vi could plant her hands on those round ass cheeks, playfully slapping one before lining herself up. She coated the tip with Caitlyn’s slick, leisurely dragging it back and forth her sopping cunt.  

“Someone got excited from sucking me off,” she teased. Caitlyn weakly whimpered again, jutting her ass up for Vi to stop teasing and get a move on. “I suggest you hold onto something, Cupcake.” 

Caitlyn had barely found leverage on the low headboard of Vi’s bed, when Vi inserted the full length with one swift thrust, knowing the Sheriff was wet enough to take it gracefully. Caitlyn cried out, high and parched, and white-knuckled the wood as Vi immediately adapted to a relentless pace. Her breath was knocked from her lungs each time Vi bottomed out, maintaining that rhythm with deep and fast plunges inside her desperate heat. 

“Vi,” she whined, dragging out the singular vowel of her name that sounded like the sweetest of purrs to Vi’s ears. Her body shook to Vi ramming inside, and large hands clasped around Caitlyn’s tiny waist, steadying her as much as harshly forcing her back onto the thick cock. “Oh my God, Vi!” 

Caitlyn bit down on her own arm she’d stretched out to hold the headboard, muffling the embarrassing exclamations she kept making. Each graze of the strap-on's tip against her most inner part made canines sink further into creamy skin. She was certain she’d started drooling, but the mortifying thought was swept away within the haze of her mind as Vi picked up pace, which had Caitlyn’s eyes rolling back. 

“Fuck, Cait,” Vi groaned. “You’re still so fucking tight.” 

Caitlyn was unresponsive except for the string of broken moans and high-pitched keening she couldn’t keep in. Her insides burned, her body aflame, everything was filled with Vi. She lolled her head, trying to stay upright and perfectly arched for Vi to thrust into, even in her incoherent state. The bed repeatedly banged against the wall, and Caitlyn felt herself slip further away under the hot arousal of Vi burying herself inside in persistent greed. 

Calloused hands left her waist and replaced themselves on Caitlyn’s own trembling ones, intertwining their sweaty fingers. Vi’s body felt certain and secure as she blanketed her, bracing Caitlyn and helping her through the rough fucking. Soft kisses were peppered all over her glistening back and neck, making Caitlyn swoon. Her mind was blank, nothing but pleasure and affection coursing through her veins as Vi fucked her pussy red and raw. 

Though, another burning desire bubbled up, one that Caitlyn just couldn’t ignore. More intense than Vi’s thrusts, more needed than the brutal fucking. Caitlyn felt too distant like this; facing the banging headboard and pillows, rather than the woman who made her feel like pure ecstasy– who made Caitlyn feel everything, all the time. Vi, the one person who had taken her frozen heart and melted it with all her charm and attentiveness, and being so overly sweet with her to the point where Caitlyn felt like combusting. 

Caitlyn glanced back over her shoulder and began whining excessively. 

Vi braked the pistoning of her hips, trading the rapid thrusts for some leisurely strokes. “What’s wrong, baby? Too hard?” 

Caitlyn shook her head tiredly, but gathered all her remaining fuel to lift herself off Vi’s cock and roll onto her back. She looked up at Vi, and Vi looked back at her in full understanding; They both wanted to be close.  

Vi could have a look at the full expanse of Caitlyn’s bare body like this. Her chest was flushed, her nipples stiffened peaks, and her impressive tits heaved up and down to her stimulated breathing, all whilst her legs were still spread wide open, inviting Vi in. A drop of sweat slid down Caitlyn’s marked throat, toward the valley of her breasts. But Vi hadn’t followed the trickle. 

Her eyes remained fierce on Caitlyn’s own. And before either of could drown in the crushing sensation of thorough want, they moved.  

Vi ducked down as Caitlyn shot up. 

And they kissed. 

Their lips met in urgency, passionate and fiery, as they tasted each other for the very first time. Vi found the notion almost ridiculous– How they hadn’t kissed before. How she had strayed so long from feeling Caitlyn’s mouth on her own. And it was more than wonderful, kissing Caitlyn, like they were always meant to do this.  

Like Vi existed solely to kiss Caitlyn Kiramman.  

As two halves of one being, they deepened the kiss instinctively, Vi cradling the back of Caitlyn’s neck as Caitlyn cupped her jaw tenderly. Their lips moved together, their tongues welcoming one another, their drunk noises intermingling. Vi gasped into her mouth, and Caitlyn moaned in return. A rush of adrenaline, and something else that had her heartstrings seize up and squeeze tightly, hit her. Making out with Caitlyn went beyond arousal, more than physical pleasure and mere thirst. Vi begrudged the truth. 

She was in love with Caitlyn. 

They parted, pinkening faces inches apart. Their pupil-dilated eyes beheld the other, and they giggled together like a pair of innocent children, relishing the aftermath of their first kiss. Vi nuzzled her cheek against Caitlyn, simply holding her for a moment, and she felt Caitlyn’s deft touch across her back, drawing patterns onto tattooed skin. 

Vi suddenly grew overwhelmed. She needed to sate that urge to make Caitlyn feel good. She needed to make love to her. Her hips askingly gyrated against Caitlyn, and Caitlyn nodded against the crook of her neck, both understanding and sharing Vi’s whim. 

Vi rested the strap against Caitlyn, pressing a kiss to her cheek, and slowly pushed inside. The stretch made Caitlyn wheeze softly, fingertips dragging over Vi’s shoulder blades. Vi immediately dipped down to swallow her noises, kissing them away reassuringly. Caitlyn eventually calmed with a long exhale, now fully wrapped around Vi, and they both laughed in giddiness at feeling each other so intimately. 

“You feel so good, Cait,” Vi whispered, planting her hands next to Caitlyn’s head to hold herself up. Vi’s movements were smooth, practically flowing like water over Caitlyn’s pussy as she dragged the length back and forth along Caitlyn’s velvety walls. 

Caitlyn’s mouth fell open at the lovingly motion that send bolts of pleasure over her. “You feel good, too,” she managed to say back, though toned down by salacious waves. 

Vi upped the pace, wanting to feel more of Caitlyn– needing to feel more of Caitlyn. She grew sensitive to Caitlyn gripping around her, panting as she thrusted a bit more vigorously. Caitlyn mimicked her breaths, pulling Vi down so they were flushed together. She rested her palms on Vi’s cheeks, simply cradling her face as they stared into each other’s eyes. 

Vi didn’t wish to be anywhere else. Just here, worshiping Caitlyn like the altar was her hips, revering her face as it scrunched up in heavenly pleasure. Vi gasped as Caitlyn gasped, rocked forth as she rocked forth, lowered her hips as she did, moving perfectly in tandem with her, like they were two cogs of the same machine– their bodies a beautiful push and pull, writhing on the mattress together. 

Caitlyn closed her eyes after a while, knitting her brows as she tightened around Vi. Her breaths came out in rapid puffs, and Vi knew she was close. Vi also neared her own tipping edge, devised by watching Caitlyn’s pretty face contort in bliss and the clamping of her pussy around Vi’s shaft. 

“You’re beautiful,” Vi encouraged her, slapping her hips faster, more determined, against Caitlyn’s crotch. “You’re doing so well for me, Cupcake. I want you to come for me, pretty girl.” 

“Vi,” Caitlyn nearly cried under all of Vi’s watchful adoration. Chanting her name like prayer. “Vi, Vi, Vi!” 

And Vi watched it all. The loud moan Caitlyn released, the clamping of her long legs around Vi’s waist, the maroon blush on her face. Vi felt Caitlyn’s delightful walls clench around her cock in a vice grip, and azure blue shot open as she was finally coming. Caitlyn’s eyes were wild, fully dazed and blissed out, and they rapidly darted all over Vi’s face as if trying to make sense of her tremendous orgasm. 

Vi couldn’t hold back at it. Her guts wound up and with an animalistic growl she pressed herself fully against Caitlyn to insert her release deep inside, forever maintaining the intense eye contact. Caitlyn grew almost impossibly redder upon feeling spurts of faux cum splattering against her insides, all whilst Vi had buried her stormy gaze in ocean blue. 

Their heavy breaths mixed as they rested their foreheads against each other, processing their mutual mind-numbing climax. Caitlyn absentmindedly stroked Vi’s cheeks, and Vi grinned at the display of affection the Sheriff once swore she didn’t possess. Vi couldn’t help but lunge forward to capture Caitlyn’s lips once again, eagerly drinking up her cute muffled noises. 

Caitlyn’s hands relocated themselves in Vi’s hair, clawing and raking her fingers through black and pink as Vi religiously honoured her lips by kissing them puffy and swollen. They lazily made out, simply enjoying the presence of the other, memories of their sweet lovemaking floating through the heated space of Vi’s bedroom. 

“We need to clean you up,” Vi husked after she parted from Caitlyn with a last peck. Her thumb caressed the dip of Caitlyn’s chin. “I have my own bathroom, so you don’t have to worry about Powder seeing you like this.” 

Caitlyn smiled, in all her tooth-gapped glory that made Vi’s heart stutter every time she saw it. “Can we stay a bit longer? I don’t think my legs work like they used to before.” Vi agreed with a chuckle and laid her head on Caitlyn’s chest. Caitlyn continued playing with her hair, plucking at sweaty strands. “You know, I actually prefer your hair like this. You should grow it out.” 

“Not a fan of the black dye?” Vi asked, opening one eye to look up at Caitlyn. 

“Not necessarily, no.” Caitlyn mused. “I like the pink. It suits you more. Probably takes a few months before the black’s entirely gone, but I’m keen on seeing you in all that pink brilliance.” 

Then Vi remembered, and her world crumbled. In a few months she wouldn’t be here. She didn’t have months left. And here Caitlyn lay, uninformed and oh so vulnerable with Vi, while Vi was keeping her from the devastating reality. She swallowed a lump in her throat. 

“Cait–” 

A press of pillowy softness against her lips promptly shut her up. 

“Leave it for tomorrow?” Caitlyn tiredly smiled at her, after she’d pulled away. “I think I have to pass out soon.”  

Vi squirmed under the weight of her secret. When Caitlyn had gone for a quick shower, she kept mulling over it, even more in her own head now that she was alone. Freshened up, Caitlyn re-entered the bedroom, fully naked and hair damp. The sight should’ve made Vi gawk in awe, but a creature of guilt had crawled its way inside, gnawing at Vi’s guts, so Vi lamely stared instead. 

She wanted to fight the monster and tell Caitlyn about the Arcane, the Wild Runes, her imminent death– Hell , even the simple matter of how beautiful Caitlyn looked with her skin barely dry and sheened from her shower. But the words were stuck in her throat.  

Vi didn’t have much of an opportunity to address her silence when Caitlyn manoeuvred them on their sides. The Sheriff slid her arms under and over her middle section, spooning Vi from behind, and kissed a ‘goodnight’ to her nape. 

And long after Caitlyn had peacefully fallen asleep, Vi stared up at the ceiling, picturing invisible sand of an hourglass sift away. 

Chapter Text

The morning after, Vi was notified of Caitlyn waking up by a tiny yawn and wandering fingers along the ink artwork on her back. 

“Good morning,” Caitlyn whispered from behind her. Vi grew smaller under her cheerful tone. Caitlyn didn’t know that Vi hadn’t slept a wink. 

“Morning,” she responded wearily. 

“Tired?” Caitlyn clipped back, pressing a smile against pink roots. 

“No,” Vi lied, “You just wore me out yesterday night. In a good way, of course.” 

Caitlyn hummed, lingering for a few serene minutes in which she silently pampered Vi, whether it be the traces on tattooed skin, or kisses buried in dyed hair. Though, the muscles in Vi’s body were unable to relax under her touch, strained by shame and dread. 

“Oh, crap.” Caitlyn suddenly shot straight off the bed, startling Vi momentarily as the mattress sprung up at the loss of weight. The officer crouched down on the bedroom floor, chaotically scouring the piles of haphazardly removed clothing. She eventually managed to find what she’d been looking for, Vi peeked over the edge of her bed to see the navy vest in her hands. Caitlyn retrieved her pocket watch and squinted down at it. “Shit.”  

“What is it?” 

“The morning is almost over,” Caitlyn grunted as she gathered the rest of her clothes. She tugged on her grey trousers in scurry, almost tripping over her long limbs. “God, the station. What boss is three hours late after only a month of promotion?!” 

Vi chuckled, watching Caitlyn put her blouse on inside-out, before realizing her mistake and fixing it with an annoyed huff. “Bet the walk of shame back to Piltover would be scandalous if people saw. You can always just say you were patrolling in Zaun,” Vi jested menacingly. 

“Ha, ha,” Caitlyn mocked, buttoning herself up. “No, my Enforcers definitely know. I’m always first in office, even before I became Sheriff.” 

“Of course you are,” Vi muttered under her breath. 

She decided to let Caitlyn sulk and dress in silence, opting to simply observe the mess of a woman. After her whole uniform was back in place, and she’d smoothed it down with two gloved hands, she spun for Vi. “How do I look? Less ‘walk of shame’ and more ‘prim and proper head of legislation'?” 

“Hm, your clothes are fine. It’s just...” 

“What, Vi?” Caitlyn asked, horrified when Vi gestured around her own face. 

She grinned mischievously. “Your hair and make-up look quite– hm, how do I put this– like you’ve had a very rough night, Sheriff.” 

Caitlyn paled, then rushed into the adjacent bathroom, elating a distant shriek that Vi couldn’t help but burst out in laughter at. There was some ruffling, and after a short while, Caitlyn emerged from the bathroom, barefaced and hair pulled back. She raised a brow in question. 

“Better,” Vi answered. 

“I can work with that.” Caitlyn approached Vi’s side of the bed, leaning down to peck her lips, which Vi all too happily accepted. They parted, giddily smiling at each other. Caitlyn looked like she was about to move away from the bed, before she went in for more, a flurry of feathery kisses attacking Vi’s lips. “How can I leave when you look like this ?” Caitlyn murmured against her mouth. 

Vi smirked, firmly keeping Caitlyn at arms-length. “Chop-chop, Sheriff. The city is waiting for you.” 

Caitlyn nodded with a silly pout, and with one last kiss, she walked to the bedroom door, lingering in its frame for a hesitant moment. “I’ll see you later tonight?” 

“Sure, Cupcake. I’ll probably be at the bar.” 

Caitlyn dipped her head in acknowledgement, whispering a final goodbye, and left for work. Vi lowered herself on her bed with a long exhale, dragging a hand over her face. 

Fuck. She really got it bad.

“Ow, Powder!” 

Vi was currently lying on her stomach, back fully exposed to the air of her sister’s workshop, on the harsh surface of Powder’s makeshift operation table. Which was truly just her desk, but tidied up for once. Powder had insisted on a check-up for Vi’s prosthetic, and was now prodding her with a screwdriver and many of her other fear-inducing tools. 

“Stay still then, you big himbo.” 

Vi wanted to retort, but clenched her jaw shut when another poke of sharpness cut the words in her throat. “What the fuck is that?!” 

“A plier,” Powder replied airily. “I’m trying to get– right here, yes. A bit more–” 

With a heavy grunt, Powder put her weight on the tool to clamp it somewhere in between the grooves of Vi’s arm. Vi reactively winced from the sudden unbearable pain; Her scars lit up in protest, blue lightening emerging from the old wounds and shooting over the platinum limb as if electrocuting Vi. A bright zap lashed out at the instrument in Powder’s hand and she jumped away, dropping the pliers in shock. 

“Fuck. Vi, are you okay?” Powder asked once the blue electricity had simmered down, her voice unsteady. 

Vi groaned. Her body felt ablaze. The most prominent burn right at the hem of her arm and shoulder, where marred flesh conjoined platinum. Vi barely noticed Powder pulling her upright. The pain, the throbbing inside her head, the numbing of her limbs– Vi felt scared. Being stuck in a mass of flesh that slowly withered away by some paranormal corruption was beyond intimidating. 

“Shit, Pow. What about you? The lightening get you?” Vi asked instead, first and foremost concerned about her baby sister. As always. 

“No, but holy fuck,” Powder wheezed exasperated, seemingly on the verge of either a nervous breakdown, or crying. “Shit, I just tried to– I thought if I could remove that stupid prosthetic, it would make things better. T-That it might be the cause of the overload. That it would fix everything. But it’s getting worse, Vi... I can’t–” 

Thus, the latter. Powder broke down in tears, and Vi immediately wrapped her arms around her little sister, hugging her so tight that Vi could feel the stutter of her breaths bang against her own chest.  

“It’s okay,” she lied, burying Powder’s cries in the crook of her neck. “You did what you could.” 

Vi looked up at the murky sky of the Fissures. Her own eyes watered. 

“It’s okay.”

The Last Drop closed early that night. The cosy atmosphere of bellowing customers and jazz spinning from the old jukebox exchanged for a grim and hollow one. 

Vander had his head in his hands, leaning on the bar counter. Powder sat quietly next to Vi on the stools. She’d run out of sobs some time ago, tearstains and a sore throat the residues of her cries. After Powder had calmed down, she and Vi had left the workshop to update Vander on the Arcane’s condition. Vander hadn’t bothered with tears. He got quiet. Uncannily so. 

Vi grew crazy under the heavy silence. 

“Say something!” 

Powder flinched at her tone, and Vander lifted his head, curiously looking up at her. Vi fumed in her seat. Fuck, why was she screaming? She wasn’t even angry with them. No, she was angry with herself. With the world. With her damned fate. 

“I told you I’m probably dead soon, and neither of you have anything to say?!” 

It coaxed a hurt noise from Powder, and Vander immediately picked up on the situation, locking his eyes on Vi.  

“Be mad at me if you want, Violet. Be mad at everyone and everything. Hell, it’s well within your rights to be. But leave your sister out of this.” He didn’t really sound upset with Vi. He never could be. Not truly. Vi bit the inside of her cheek, muttering a ‘sorry’ under her breath. Vander shook his head in reassurance. “Like I said; You deserve to be angry. I can’t even begin to comprehend how you must be feeling about all of this.” 

“I dunno. I’m fed up, I suppose. I’m tense. I feel like smashing through a concrete wall until my knuckles bleed.” Vi sighed, mustering all the courage she had left. “But I guess most of all, I’m afraid.” 

“Afraid of what?” Vander encouraged, reading Vi like an open book and giving her the space to work it out herself. 

“I’m scared of how it’ll happen. Dying.” Vi worried her lip, avoiding her dad and sister’s stares. She would not cry. She refused to. “I’m scared to leave everyone behind. I’m scared that I will miss out on so much life has to offer. I don’t want that.” 

Vander smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s brave to admit.” 

Vi’s shoulders sagged. No, she wasn’t brave. Images of a certain officer flashed through her mind, of soft touches and promising looks. And an unspoken truth. Vi was a coward. 

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” Powder finally spoke, seeing right through her sister’s tough exterior, just how Vander had. “It’s why you’re deflecting with anger.” 

Her pointedly words made Vi grimace. Emotional awareness so did run in the family. She ruffled her sister’s blue hair, half to apologize for earlier, half to show how immensely proud she was of her. Vi needed to let her know as much as she still could. 

“Always so clever,” Vi said, lovingly holding Powder’s chin, and watched her little sister beam. She sighed. “I guess you’re right. There is something. I’ve been meaning to talk about it, you know. But I keep shutting down every time.” 

Vander quirked a thick eyebrow, but Powder looked all-knowingly at her, the faintness of a smirk across her lips. “This is about officer Legs, isn’t it?” 

“Legs?” 

“Caitlyn, whatever,” Powder replied, rolling her eyes playfully. 

“Caitlyn Kiramman?” Vander pried amusedly. “So, it’s a thing then? You and Grayson’s prodigy? I mean, I’ve seen you plenty at the bar together, but that was always in group context.” 

“Oh, Vi’s for sure sweet on her,” Powder quipped. “Snatched that uptight cop with all her glorious Undercity charm. Tell me sis, did you get the chance to take that stick out of her–” 

“–Powder,” Vander chastised her dryly. 

Vi snorted. The air between the three of them felt a little lighter, less tense. Something she was grateful for. She’d rather see them like this. Like the good old times. 

“I suppose so,” Vi answered Vander. “She’s different, once you get to know her.” 

“I would love to get to know her,” Vander said, and the intent truly warmed Vi’s heart. 

She could see it in front of her; Caitlyn and Vander chatting animatedly– Caitlyn with her overexaggerated and awkward gestures, Vander with his mild ones– here at their family’s bar. Powder poking fun at Caitlyn, which Caitlyn would easily ricochet, flustering Powder back. Mylo and Claggor would probably love her too. Who wouldn’t? Caitlyn centred the world, captured a room’s attention with ease, whenever she walked in. Then she’d see Vi, and look at her with those gorgeous cerulean orbs as if Vi was the only person in that room with her. 

And Vi couldn’t even complete the mere task of being honest with her. 

“You haven’t told her yet, have you?” Powder’s question pulled Vi from her thoughts. 

“No.” Vi dipped her head, clasping her idle hands together. “I can’t.” 

“She should know, Violet,” Vander said. “She deserves to know.” 

“I get that, okay?!” Vi snapped, gritting her teeth. “But how can I tell her, when she’s been through so much lately? She barely got over Grayson’s passing. She’s finally starting to open up. To get better. And now I have to tear her world apart by telling her I’m terminally sick?” 

Vander and Powder visibly deflated at her outburst. They simply let her brood in her frustration. Vi plucked at the wraps on her wrist, abashed by her quick temper. Calm down. Vi squeezed her eyes closed, planting her hands atop her head as she bowed down onto the bar countertop. 

“It’s just so fucked up. I’m so fucking selfish for flirting with her. For coercing her into this doomed relationship. I should’ve left her alone. I should’ve just let her be. But now I’m gonna be another name on her list of regrets.” 

“You don’t mean that,” Powder said softly. “C’mon Vi. We both know the two of you were inevitable. Legs was always gonna fall for you, whether you wanna believe that or not.” 

“Your sister speaks wisely,” Vander chuckled warmly. “You deserve to love and be loved, Violet. You’ve got a good heart. Don’t ever berate yourself for that.” 

Perhaps it was what Vi needed to hear. To have her loved ones tell her, and support her. Remind Vi that some things in the world were worth hurting for. Worth loving. 

And so, Vi decided she was going to tell Caitlyn the truth tonight.  

She had to.

Caitlyn’s workday was anything but tranquil. 

It had started when she’d bashfully entered the precinct, hours and hours late. Her Enforcers had looked up at the screech of the hefty doors of their department opening. Caitlyn felt all eyes on her for a confused moment, before her employees averted their gaze in modesty. She felt herself grow red, nodded at them in soundless greeting, then practically sprinted to her office, away from jeering stares. 

As soon as Caitlyn had closed the door behind her, finding herself in the safety of her private room, the thick stack of manila files on the corner of her desk taunted her right in her face. Another day full of tedious paperwork. God, she’d rather wear herself out jumping around Zaun. Even though her entire body was still very much sore. 

At the end of the day, her dominant hand was cramped up, the vein on her temple protruding and throbbing violently, and her stomach rumbled in complaint. Steb had delivered her coffee and a pastry sometime during lunch, but Caitlyn hadn’t had anything else to fill her empty stomach with. So, now she was hungry and irritated. 

‘Hangry’ Vi would call it, ever the nuisance. Caitlyn had heard it plenty of times before, when she was too zeroed in on her Chem-baron investigation, and the brawler had to scold her for being cranky and not taking care of herself. Supposedly the story of her life. 

There was something else too, though. Like a weight on her chest. As if there was some daunting prospect Caitlyn wasn’t aware of. She’d checked everything; Dates in her agenda, forgotten reports, even asked Steb if she had missed out on anything important this morning when she was absent. But no. Nothing seemed to fit the puzzle. 

Well, maybe it was the plan she’d shyly set in motion. Caitlyn had decided she wanted to let Vi know how she felt, later tonight. She didn’t know when the thought had first occurred, but Caitlyn was sure of her feelings. Those big three words floated through her mind, endlessly creeping up at her. She blushed. The prestigious and mighty Sheriff of Piltover flustered by a mere confession. 

How humbling. 

Caitlyn was fiddling with her pocket watch on her now-familiar walk to the Lanes. When she approached the Last Drop, its sign was dull, no buzzing or bright neon green. She didn’t know the bar would close this early. 

Caitlyn didn’t give it much thought, and entered the building, meeting its empty state from lack of patrons. Vander and Powder looked up at her entree, and greeted her with a wave. But Caitlyn’s first attention was solely glued on the back of a leather jacket, pink hair unruly above it. She absentmindedly managed to greet the other family members back, though. She hadn’t completely forgotten her manners. 

Then, Vi turned on her stool towards her, and Caitlyn’s breath was stolen away. Stormy grey eyes beheld her. Caitlyn thickly swallowed. 

Vi’s eyes flickered back to her family, just for a moment, but Caitlyn caught it regardless. The nervousness in the glance Vi had given her dad. The fright on her features as Vi faced her little sister.  

The weight on Caitlyn’s chest grew heavier. 

Vander and Powder nudged Vi toward Caitlyn. So, the buff bartender slid of her chair, and made her way over to Caitlyn, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to it. Powder faked a gag from behind them. 

“Hey you,” Vi said, offering her a typical wink and smirk. Although, Caitlyn could spot that they were slightly forced. 

“Hey you,” Caitlyn responded, feigning ignorance, and pressed her lips to the roman numerals on her skin. 

Vi seemed uncharacteristically timid. Somewhat like she was sporting a cold-sweat. Caitlyn was about to question her on it, before Vi did speak up more brazenly. “I wanna show you something. Up for a climb?” 

Caitlyn decided to shove that conundrum of hers away in her mental archive for now, and accepted Vi’s invitation. They wished Vander and Powder a goodnight, and exited the bar. As soon as they were out of sight, Vi pressed Caitlyn against the wall outside of the Last Drop, timidness forgone, and kissed her fiercely. 

Caitlyn showed her appreciation in form of a keening whine. 

“Missed me much?” Vi teased as she pulled away, leaving Caitlyn absolutely flabbergasted, cheeks painted coral. “How was work?” 

“Awful,” Caitlyn said flatly. “Literally had my walk of shame on my own floor. God, you should’ve seen their faces. It’s like they all just knew.” 

“I wish I was there to see that,” Vi snorted, far too entertained by Caitlyn’s mishap. She took her hand once again, wrapping tape meeting leathery fabric. “Come. I want you to see this.” 

“This sight never ceases to amaze me,” Caitlyn puffed once they’d reached the top. 

Zaun was bright and lively beneath them. Vi lead them to the edge of the roof, pointing at a few messy wires across the buildings. Caitlyn noticed some sort of rabbit plushie stuck in the middle. 

“It’s mine,” Vi said, watching Caitlyn furrow. “Some assholes chucked it up in there ages ago, and I never managed to recover it. Guess it makes for an artsy scenery, though.” 

Then, Vi gently took a hold of her chin, guiding her in another direction. A graffiti clad billboard. “My brother Mylo almost got arrested for painting that middle finger. Enforcers chased him all the way to the outskirts of town. I remember him saying he barely could feel his legs when he had returned home.” 

Caitlyn giggled lightly. “Enforcers outdone by a kid. Colour me unsurprised.” 

Vi shot her a cheeky grin. “Yeah, and they let Claggor go too.” Vi’s hand guided her further downward, toward a large sewer drainage. “He got stuck in there while fleeing. The Enforcers refused to go down that filth, so he was safe. Stinky, but safe.” 

“Ah, so that’s why you wanted us to train in the cityscapes of Zaun. It all makes sense now.” 

Vi shrugged at her playful reply, and released Caitlyn. “You were lackluster, is all. Besides, I’ve grown fond of some of you. The Piltie officers have definitely improved under your command. An excellent boss, I should say.” 

“Thank you,” Caitlyn whispered softly. 

Vi simply hummed in response, her gaze wandering over the view. An almost nostalgic look crossed her face, as if she was mentally painting the picture in front of her. Caitlyn observed her intently. There was a hint of sadness in Vi’s eyes. Something more than she was showing, Caitlyn concluded. She already had previously put her mark on it; How Vi stumbled during the parkouring, covering it by using lame excuses. How Vi would occasionally zone out, stormy grey growing distant. How this morning, Vi looked like she hadn’t rested during the night, but Vi denied it when Caitlyn had asked. 

It made Caitlyn want to hold the girl. To be next to her every night so she could make sure Vi was sleeping enough. She wanted to care for Vi, a sense to protect her, but in order for her to do that, Caitlyn needed to be granted passage. 

Meanwhile, Vi could feel Caitlyn being lost in thought next to her. She turned to face the officer, seeing Caitlyn worry her pretty face. 

Her near-perfect eyebrows knitted together, and Caitlyn finally addressed the issue haunting her mind. “What’s wrong, Vi? You’ve not been yourself lately. Like last night.” 

“What? I don’t believe I’m lacking in the whole sex department,” Vi played it off, and Caitlyn did show her a glimpse of a smile at that. 

“You indeed won’t find me complaining about that,” Caitlyn said, then grew serious again, but also perhaps shy, if Vi wasn’t mistaken by her reddening face. “I’ve been meaning to ask– or rather t-tell you. God, why am I stuttering?”  

Vi shut off completely, like her brain was short-circuiting. She dreaded the words she knew were to follow up on Caitlyn’s beginning statement, but she had no way to stop it. To shield Caitlyn any further from herself. And so, Caitlyn uninterruptedly continued, 

“Listen, I know we had a rough start, and I wasn’t always the... easiest person to be around. But being with you, I’ve really started to like myself again. Well, I suppose that sounded really arrogant. I am not trying to bootlick myself here. It was meant as a compliment– err, for you, not me. God, this is going so bad. I’m just not used to proclamations. I don’t think I’ve ever– Actually, never mind that.” Caitlyn huffed in-between her rambling, then firmly planted her feet and straightened her back in a feeble attempt to appear composed again. She adamantly locked her gaze on Vi’s, her eyes full of self-assurance, befitting someone her station. “What I am trying to say is; Vi, I think I love y–” 

“Caitlyn.” 

The half choked-back sound of her name made Caitlyn cut herself off in an instance. Her collected self-assurance gone as fast as it had sprung. Vivid blue eyes widened at Vi, and Vi almost kicked herself at how close Caitlyn looked to a nervous collapse. Vi averted her attention to her raggedy combat boots, unable to keep Caitlyn in her peripherals. But she had to give Caitlyn something, because she had just given Vi everything. It was all Vi wanted to hear fall from her lips, yet she just couldn’t allow it. Not for Caitlyn, but especially not for herself. 

“You can’t,” she said. Fuck, she was completely disregarding everything Vander and Powder had shushed her with. She was so pathetic. Smeech had been right when he insulted her with it. 

“You... can’t?” Caitlyn parroted and tilted her head, oh so adorably. It made it that much harder for Vi. 

“There’s something I need to tell you, Cait.” Vi looked around her. Surrounding tokens from the past tormenting her. Knowing that this might as well be the very last time she’d laid eyes on her childhood memories. “Just not here. Please.” 

Caitlyn seemed hesitant and like she was a livewire about to snap. Vi couldn’t blame her. But in the end, Caitlyn gave her a small nod, and thus, they padded back to Vi’s apartment, cloaked by an unsettling quiet. 

The Sheriff had remained scarily passive. Whenever Vi would try to make conversation, simply to uplift the mood, Caitlyn didn’t move a single muscle. Eventually, when they both resided in the guarded space of Vi’s bedroom– Vi sitting down on her bed, while Caitlyn stood rigidly still by the door– and Vi dumbly tried to small talk again, Caitlyn finally cracked. 

“God, shut up, Vi!” Caitlyn darted forward, but stopped a safe distance away from Vi. “Go on and say whatever you want to say. If you don’t feel the same... Well, just don’t let me stand here like a complete idiot .” 

“You’re not an idiot, Cait,” Vi exhaled shakily. She wasn’t sure if she was prepared, but for Caitlyn’s sake she ought to try. “It’s me who’s the idiot.” 

“Yes, you are.” Caitlyn defensively crossed her arms and nearly pouted. Vi’s heartrate sped up at that. 

“Cupcake, of course I love you back, I just–” 

“–You do?” Caitlyn said relieved, and visibly relaxed. And oh , Vi felt like she was stuck between a wall of death and the love of her life.  

It tore at Vi’s soul– her entire being– knowing she was about to rip Caitlyn apart when she’d just looked so happy. The happiest Vi had ever seen her.  

For more than a month, Vi had witnessed every emotional rollercoaster the officer went through. From the first time they’d met, when the girl had entered her family’s bar on that faithful day, looking sour and far too resentful for someone her age, to their day at the docks, when Caitlyn had been so distraught she’d completely broke down. Then there was the conversation where Caitlyn had connected the dots between Vi and Jayce, and had rushed out the door in pure horror.  

And shortly after that Grayson fucking died .  

Vi had been there during Caitlyn’s grief; Watched every up and down, bright and colourless days alike. Listened to Caitlyn talk about her late mentor as Vi combed through midnight locks whilst lying in their afterglow. Gradually, Caitlyn had recollected herself, made peace with what had happened, and seeing that moment where Caitlyn’s beautiful eyes gleamed once again with hope and determination was branded onto Vi’s heart. 

And Vi would crush it all over again. 

But she didn’t really have a choice. 

“Cait, I love you so much, it terrifies me. It’s more terrifying than anything I’ve ever felt. But you have to promise me something.” 

Caitlyn seemed on the fence between combusting from joy, or downright nerves. Her voice was small. “Okay, what is it?” 

“Promise me you won’t get stuck on me. Don’t leave yourself behind for me– because of me.” 

“What?” The heel of Caitlyn’s boot clicked as she took a step backward, away from Vi. Her voice now weak and rough. “You’re starting to scare me, Vi.” 

Vi took a deep breath. Now or never then. 

“I was never meant to survive the explosion.”  

Caitlyn looked down at her from her impeccable height, incredulously studying Vi, and her gorgeous blue eyes narrowed in confusion. Her mouth parted slightly from unease, and Vi wanted nothing more than to kiss her agony away. But she just made a fist instead. 

“What do you mean by that?” Caitlyn’s words came out barely above a whisper. 

Vi recognized the hint of fear in Caitlyn and almost melted down at it. She clenched her fist tighter, biting her nails in skin. “The impact should’ve killed me on the spot. I should’ve died right there and then in that apartment.” She took a shaky breath, before she could finish up. “The Hexgems– the Arcane magic they preserved– it saved me. Infused me with another temporary lifeforce that kept the blast from being lethal. That was the only reason why I was able to stay alive so far.” 

Caitlyn quivered as she listened, eyes darting all over Vi’s face. Then, a terrible revelation washed over her, the one Vi had forbade, praying for it to be willed away so Caitlyn never had to go through that pain again. But Caitlyn seemed to have realized the implication of what Vi had told her, when she hoarsely pled, “Vi, please don’t tell me it’s true what I think you’re about to say.” 

She felt her own nose grow stuffy and salt began to well up in the corner of her eyes. She couldn’t endure the devastated look on Caitlyn’s face. But she had to tell her. ‘She deserves to know’ her father’s words echoed through Vi. 

“That same magic,” Vi mumbled, crescents now carved in her palms, “it is killing me. I’m living on borrowed time, Cait.” 

Caitlyn physically winced, blinking rapidly, trying to put the pieces together. “I-I don’t understand. Why? How ?!” 

“There’s not much to go on, but I can feel my body deteriorate. The Arcane is slowly corrupting me, and it can’t sustain in life matter forever. Its magic can’t keep me alive. Not any longer.” Vi paused to analyse Caitlyn’s state of mind. She wasn’t on the brink of tears, per se. Her face was practically devoid of anything, slightly paler, a deep scrunch struck across that didn’t exactly dampen Vi’s concern either. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I should’ve told you sooner. I never wanted to burden you with any of this shit. It’s just so– It’s all so messed up.” 

Caitlyn’s head was spinning, she was sure she was falling off some tall building, soaring through infinite sky with no possible way to save her. The dizziness caught up to reality, making her knees buckle as she threatened to stumble, before a pair of powerful arms securely wrapped around her, catching her as she was about to fall. Vi– lovely, strong, reliable Vi– she was the one to catch her. Vi was always meant to be the one catching her. Caitlyn could just cry, slam her head against a wall in blind rage, yet her anguish only occurred in unsteady, broken breaths. 

“Air,” she said, panic stuck in her throat, threatening to fully deplete her, “I need some air. I-I can’t breathe.” 

Vi lifted her up, and she immediately buried her nose in the crook of Vi’s neck, inhaling the soothing scent as her knees clamped Vi’s sides. Vi carried her and opened the door leading to the adjoined balcony, carefully setting Caitlyn down once outside. 

Caitlyn immediately began pacing the porch, breathing hard and hands dug in her side, then lifting one up to wildly run through her hair. She looked lost. Lost and disturbed, and so close to shattering into a million pieces. 

Caitlyn felt Vi’s restless gaze on her. The fresh air did nothing to dissipate her suffocation. There was a tightness on her chest, like the weight before, but viler and more present, almost barging through her ribcage and cutting through her skin. She reflexively reached for the pocket watch in her vest, patting it as she felt its familiar constant ticking. Caitlyn laughed at the sudden irony. Time was honestly such a joke. 

She yanked the heirloom from her inside pocket, giving it a once over, and hurled it over the balcony’s railing into the darkness below. 

“Cait?” Vi asked softly. 

“This is so fucking stupid, isn’t it?”  

Vi stayed quiet at her delirium. God, she must look so disoriented right now. Acting as though she was a crazy woman. Caitlyn gripped the balustrade with tremor, the rest of her body failing to work as she collapsed over the balcony railing, her forehead pressed against cold steel. Her next words came out in a broken whisper. 

“You’re dying. I’m in love with you, and you’re dead soon. Tell me it doesn’t sound stupid.” 

“It does sound stupid, Cupcake.” 

“Please.” Caitlyn buried her face deeper. “Don’t call me that.” 

“Sorry.” 

Caitlyn weakly shook her head. “No. Don’t be. I just can’t hear it right now. Not when it reminds me of everything I adore about you.” 

“Caitlyn, please, look at me?” 

Vi had watched her descent into this same frenzy before. The manic fashion in which she’d chucked her pocket watch– it was exactly what Vi had feared. That Caitlyn was losing it. But when the officer did rise from her slump to look at Vi, a certain tenacity was still eminent in her. Those cerulean eyes Vi could drown herself in weren’t dull like they had once been, but filled with utter terror and faint traces of pity. Yet, so full of love. 

“I don’t know what will happen,” Vi said in all honesty, needing to provide Caitlyn her options. A means for a way out. Vi owed that to her, too. “And I don’t know what you will do, but if you want me gone–” 

“I love you, Vi,” Caitlyn stated, more unwavering than ever. “I want you to stay. I want to be next to you. I want to be with you, for however long you’ll have me.” 

“You’ll stay?” Vi uttered in disbelief. 

“I meant what I said.” Caitlyn walked over to Vi and rested her head on her shoulder, squeezing Vi in a tight hug that Vi couldn’t help but reciprocate in tenfold. “If it weren’t for you, I would’ve stayed bitter and lonely. Be that inhuman version of myself. Thanks to you, Vi, I've gotten another chance. A chance to love again.” 

“Cait...” Vi exhaled against the side of Caitlyn’s throat. 

Caitlyn’s arms tightened around Vi’s neck. “A part of me died with you, back then. I just never knew it until now. To think I wouldn’t have met you.” Caitlyn parted slightly from Vi to cradle her face, stroking her thumbs over Vi’s cheeks. “I cannot bear the thought of having to exist in a world without you. Without ever knowing you.” 

Vi didn’t want to think of that either. Not when Caitlyn was looking at her with so much love, willing to exceed supernatural laws and traverse through the universe for Vi. To keep Vi here with her. Together and alive. 

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner,” Vi said, staring into mesmerizing azure. “I didn’t know how to. I’ve pushed it aside for so long, ignoring it like it doesn’t affect the people in my life too.” 

“What about Powder? How is she taking it?” Caitlyn asked, ever so thoughtful. Selfless. 

“She hates it. We all do. But she hasn’t given up yet. No one has.” 

“Neither will I,” Caitlyn promised with a kiss. “Whether we find a cure or not, I want to be with you, Violet. I want to grab cheap takeout food with you for the rest of my life, be completely yours. And I will always be yours, even if you don’t want me to be stuck on you.” 

“I just... don’t want to leave you behind,” Vi admitted, then more brokenly, “I don’t want to leave anyone behind.” 

As if Caitlyn had read the turmoil in her mind, she calmed Vi with another kiss, this time to her cheek, before pulling her in yet another warm embrace, and Vi sheepishly thought of how she ever doubted this amazing woman in front of her. 

“Cait,” she whispered, her breath ghosting over Caitlyn’s scorching skin. “You know what this means, right? You’d only waste your time on me.” 

“I don’t give a fuck about time, Vi.”  

The pocket watch. Vi slowly began to understand. It was an embodiment of what taunted them both. Caitlyn had already shown Vi her decision on the matter by trashing the damn thing, and Vi hadn’t known it back then.

“No amount of time could ever outweigh a single second of loving you,” Caitlyn poured out in full resolve. Her arms cupped Vi’s torso tightly. “Even if it’s only weeks, days, minutes spent being loved by you, Violet, I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. I could never see it as a waste, because you are worth it. Your love is worth it."

It was difficult for Vi to hear Caitlyn say that. To accept Caitlyn’s desire for her when they both knew they were destined to fall apart. But Vi would try. Hell, she would go beyond the unthinkable for Caitlyn. 

“I love you, Cait. So much. You don’t even understand.” 

“I do,” Caitlyn countered wholeheartedly, resting their foreheads together. Ocean meeting its storm. “You love unlike anyone else. I can feel it in everything you do, or say. Your heart loves so greatly yet you never expect it back. But I will be here and try my hardest to show you how you make others feel. And I will do that for whatever time we have left together. Okay?” 

“Okay,” Vi agreed, shutting her eyes. Solely focusing on the calming breaths falling from Caitlyn’s lips. Suddenly growing overwhelmed, Vi got on her tippy toes, and clung onto the back of Caitlyn’s neck, gently holding her as their bodies swayed together in the cold breeze of the night’s sky. 

They were fine. For this fleeting moment in time, they were in love and fine. And Vi wished they could stay like this forever. 

Chapter Text

Caitlyn listened to the soft breathing of her beloved.

Vi was fast asleep and snoring, half draped over Caitlyn, in the same way they’d fallen asleep together. Caitlyn nuzzled her spiky pink hair, taking in the faint aroma of chestnut shampoo mixed with traces of tobacco. Her right arm was stuck under Vi’s muscular form, and started to tingle from lack of blood flow, but Caitlyn didn’t mind. She smiled down at Vi, although rueful.

After their loaded conversation, and after they shed pearls of devastation, they had stayed up until ungodly hours, immersing themselves in stories of their childhoods, when everything had still been good and simple. Vi would recite memories of her and her siblings, many times with Powder in the leading role. Powder who had been a child genius, always busy with inventions and her craft. Powder who Vi had needed to ease before bed with tales of imaginary venomous slugs and razor spiked crabs. Vi had sounded so proud, and Caitlyn would beam at the peacefulness on her face as she talked about her baby sister.

In return, Caitlyn had told Vi all about her own upbringing. Glimmer and prestige, hardships and altercations alike. She’d described her family’s vacation home in Ionia. How thick snow blanketed endless prairies during the winter. How those same plains were full of bright colourful flowers in summer. “I should take you there, some day,” Caitlyn had said, and Vi would give her the biggest grin she’d ever seen.

It was a faux promise, they both knew. They simply did not have that time left together. But the thought of lounging around the flower field, picnicking or just staring up at passing clouds, was a nice fantasy to cherish. So, the rest of the night, they’d think of scenarios where they could see themselves experience all sorts of things together. Scenarios that would make up for time that would be lost between them. Scenarios where Caitlyn wouldn’t have to live in a world without Vi.

Caitlyn swallowed thickly. The heaviness on her chest had remained throughout their giddy chatter. Caitlyn had just buried it for the time being, so Vi wouldn’t worry, but now, lying here staring up at the ceiling while Vi was still very much alive, her breathing ghosting over Caitlyn’s skin a stark reminder, Caitlyn couldn’t help but lose the battle against tears welling up.

She cried soundlessly, not wanting to wake Vi. Sadness trickled down her face, landing on pink strands. It was so fucking unfair that Vi did not get to see the fields of Ionia. That Vi did not get to watch her baby sister grow up. That, before long, Caitlyn would have to live the rest of her life without her.

The universe had destined them soulmates, just to rip them apart far too soon.

A sudden pang in her heart made her sobs grow in volume. She tried to muffle herself in Vi’s hair, instinctively pulling the girl closer to her. God, Caitlyn never wanted to let go. If they could stay like this forever, she gladly would. However, the familiar pain of grief washed over her. A sensation she’d always loathed yet couldn’t seem to shake.

Vi remained in a deep slumber. A given, since she hadn’t slept the night before. Caitlyn didn’t want Vi to see her like this, though, so she carefully pried Vi off of her, and got up, pressing a featherlight kiss to the top of Vi’s head, before she left the tense air of the bedroom.

She closed the door with a soft click, leaning back against it to catch her breath. Then, she was pulled from her despair when a small voice addressed her.

“Legs.”

Caitlyn looked up at the nickname.

“Powder.”

Vi’s sister stood in the kitchen, hands clamped around a steaming mug. Her face fell upon seeing Caitlyn’s worn appearance, and Caitlyn subconsciously wiped at the remnants of her cries. Powder’s teal twin-buns wobbled as she nodded toward another mug, brow raised questioningly.

Caitlyn accepted her silent invitation, strolling to the kitchen island and sat down on one of its stools. Powder brew her some coffee, shoving a set of utilities toward her, from which Caitlyn picked some milk and a teaspoon. The caffeine was placed in front of her, and they both consumed their drink in the quiet fashion they’d upheld.

Eventually, it was Powder who broke the barrier.

“Vi told you. Didn’t she.”

“Yeah.”

Powder worried her lip as Caitlyn dipped her head, blowing the steam from her cup to distract her racing mind with something.

“You stayed.”

“Yeah.” Caitlyn raised her head, then resolute, “Of course I did.”

Powder smiled warmly, though her remorseful eyes didn’t quite match the sentiment. “You’re good to her. Thank you, Caitlyn.”

“She deserves it,” Caitlyn answered somberly, but the corner of her lip quirked up slightly. “Using my actual name now?”

Powder shrugged, sheepishly taking a swig of her coffee. “Seems to me you’re not that bad after all.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Powder hummed distantly, finishing the rest of her coffee. The girl was probably in a similar state of mind as Caitlyn; Absolutely crushed about Vi. Although, Powder did seem like she’d somewhat came to terms with the situation, more so than Caitlyn herself, who freshly had been exposed to the harsh truth. The coffee was a silent show of compassion. A display of acknowledgment toward the sorrow they had in common. Something they could find joint consolation in, when the time came.

Caitlyn’s eyes travelled absentmindedly over the marble of the kitchen’s countertop. The surface was clattered with a bunch of blueprints, books, and a myriad of notes. Strange symbols had been scribbled onto paper by Powder, some frantic, others vaguely distorted by what Caitlyn presumed had been teardrops. Then, her sight lodged onto a specific notebook. Some sort of journal wrapped in thick leather. Its spine was laced with copper, fine details engraved to spell out a name. Or rather, initials.

Caitlyn’s eyes widened.

“Powder, where did you get this?”

Powder squinted at the diary Caitlyn was boring holes into. “Oh, professor Heimerdinger let us borrow it. He said it was part of some old important evidence, ‘so, be careful with it’ or whatever. But he’s  whipped for Ekko, he just loaned it to him.”

“What’s the content about?”

“Uh, the Arcane. Hexgems, specifically,” Powder answered, caught off-guard by Caitlyn’s sudden interest. “We thought maybe it contained something that could help Vi. But honestly, there’s nothing left to decipher. It’s all a dead end.”

The realization made Caitlyn suck in a breath. “That’s because it’s not finished.”

“What do you mean?” Powder asked intriguingly.

“This diary belongs to Jayce Talis.”

A moment of silence passed between the two; Caitlyn’s intense stare, Powder gingerly returning it. Until the shorter girl visibly freaked.

“Uhm, yeah. Still not getting it, Legs. Who the fuck you talkin’ about?”

“He’s the one that created the Hexgems. It was his apartment that you broke into. If the diary seems unfinished, it’s because it is,” Caitlyn said. Then explained further when Powder still looked puzzled. “He got imprisoned shortly after the incident, so he never got the chance to finish his research.”

“So, what, we go to Stillwater and ask some random inmate if he so dearly wants to help out the imbeciles that got him there in the first place?” Powder scoffed.

Caitlyn’s Cheshire Cat grin made Powder scowl in bewilderment, and there was perhaps a hint of disgust at seeing the officer act so openly whimsical with her, but she quickly abandoned that scowling expression for a shocked one when Caitlyn said,

“He also happens to be my best friend.”

Powder blinked and dumbly ogled her further, before she pulled a face when she finally realized what Caitlyn had just implied. “Wait, hold on. What the fuck did you just tell me? Your best friend is the guy whose house we robbed and blew up all those years ago?”

“Yes. I was there too when it happened.”

“You were there?!”

Caitlyn barely heard Powder over the deafening pounding of her heart. If Jayce were to finish his equation to the Arcane, then Vi might have a shot at surviving the magic. Vi might get to live. She snatched the old diary from the kitchen counter and bolted up, making a beeline to grab her shoes and jacket, whilst Powder’s gaze followed Caitlyn dart all over the place, mouth still hanging open in pure confusion. Powder almost didn’t catch the coat Caitlyn had thrown at her, directing her toward the door with a nudge.

“We have no time to waste, Powder. Let’s go.” Caitlyn hastily recovered the housekeys from the cabinet like she was one of the residents, tossing them to Powder. She took a step outside the door, then turned heel to throw Powder one last look. “And he’s my brother, by the way.”

“Brother,” Powder repeated deadpan, shaking her head in disbelief when the officer gestured wildly at her to follow. “You, lady, are full of surprises,” Powder grumbled, but trailed after Caitlyn regardless.

After a short stop at the station, so that Caitlyn could professionally announce her absence for the day, leaving Steb in charge, Powder and her had gone to Piltover’s docks. The ferryboat ride hadn’t taken long. Not like the rowboat Caitlyn had previously gotten the horrific opportunity of being acquainted with. Though, Powder’s constant whining of ‘are we there yet’ was certainly a blotch on the journey, and somewhere along the way Caitlyn silently thanked her parents for letting her remain an only child.

They climbed the stone steps of Stillwater in lightning speed; Caitlyn with long strides, Powder with bouncy leaps. The building looked far less intimidating than during the obscurities of night, but the sight was still far from welcoming. Caitlyn’s stomach turned. She hadn’t lamented not seeing the prison, but she did feel guilty she hadn’t visited Jayce ever since he’d practically scolded her away.

Their last interaction had left a nasty stain on their friendship. If Caitlyn could still call it that.

The same warden worked the desk, glaring boredly when the two women entered the vicinity. But the large Vastayan seemed to have remembered his etiquette when it came to greeting a Kiramman. And, as of recent, the Sheriff of his city at that.

“Miss Kiramman,” he said flatly. “To what do we owe the pleasure now?”

“I’ve brought release forms,” she stated as flatly, a light jab at his manners. “For prisoner 516.”

The warden lazily took the paperwork from her, scanning over the document so fast, Caitlyn refused to believe he’d actually read it. Even Powder huffed in annoyance beside her. Shortly after, he looked up, eyes as lifeless.

“Sorry, Sheriff. But we require more than just your signature.”

Caitlyn quirked a brow, straightening her posture to emphasize her authority. “As head of the Enforcers, I would have you know that I can pardon inmates temporarily.”

“Yeah, you can. Just need a signature from the council as well.”

“The council?” Powder chimed with a scoff. “Ain’t the Sheriff’s decree equal to that of any councilmember? It’s in the law, y’know.”

“Sure, kid. But not when it comes to ordering release. The council has to endorse any request of the sort.”

“Since when, exactly?” Caitlyn inquired with a raise of her chin.

“Well, since always, really. No prisoner has ever been released before.” The warden grinned, almost menacingly. Caitlyn’s suspicion of his personal bias towards his prisoners rapidly grew. Just another nobody greedy for power and control.

“That is absurd logic,” Caitlyn countered, words laced with irritation.

The warden shrugged her off just as easily, motioning toward Powder, and mimicked, “Tis the law, ma’am.”

Powder and Caitlyn shared a glance, neither sure of what to do. “Alright, then,” Caitlyn relented begrudgingly, “Can we at least pay inmate 516 a visit, before we leave.”

“Be my guest.” The warden waved in the direction of the clanky elevator. Caitlyn and Powder made to move past him, but the younger got stopped by a large hand that separated the two of them. “No kids allowed.”

“I’m not a kid!” Powder fumed, and Caitlyn doubted that reaction would enhance his persuasion.

“Okay, so got any identification on you then?”

Powder shot a deer-in-headlights look in Caitlyn’s way, before shaking her head against her will in bitter defiance.

“It’s aight. I’ll babysit her for you, Sheriff.”

Caitlyn almost snorted at Powder’s offended gape of her mouth. “I’ll be right back.” She teasingly locked eyes with Powder. “Behave, will you?”

Powder was about to snap back, and Caitlyn did feel partially bad for leaving Powder behind. That belief only grew when the rusty elevator descended the many floors, bringing her to the most gruesome and clammiest areas of the prison. Suddenly the prospect of Powder's constant complaining had become a more welcome thought, now that Caitlyn traversed eery quietness. The barren walls echoed her footsteps through the long, ghastly hallway, taking her to that dreadful cell at the end.

Jayce sat on his rackety bed, reading some faded gazette that probably held month-old news. His hair was a little bit longer, so was his beard; tangled, uncombed, scraggly. Far from his clean and pristine face Caitlyn once had held so dear whenever she’d see him enter their estate, a bit weary from the Academy but never rejecting spending time with her.

He looked up at the click of her heels, his expression nearly impassable as he took her in. Though, a small glint of his eyes provided Caitlyn with a desperate warmth.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hey, Sprout.” He put away the newspaper, rising from his uncomfortable seat as he approached her. Forever divided by iron bars. Kind brown cynically studied her, lingering on the badge on her belt for a split second before scanning her face. “You seem different,” he said. “Good. Better.”

Caitlyn knew he meant it well, but she couldn’t help but mentally wince at his words. She was painfully aware of her cold attitude the past few years. How much she had changed over the course of her life. Buried anger and misery in the depths and frost of her heart. But not any longer. It had taken one person to free her from that prison she’d built. A wonderful woman who’d persistently wrapped herself around that ice until Caitlyn’s dark clouds parted to reveal clear sky.

And now it was Caitlyn’s turn to save her back.

“Cait, what’s wrong?”

She hadn’t noticed the tear rolling down her cheek. Her hand flew up to feel the liquid in the corner of her eye, wiping the residue away before it worsened.

“Jayce...”

He immediately softened at her cracking voice, reaching through the vertical bars to cup her face with a large, warm hand. The touch was familiar, and all of a sudden, she felt like a younger version of herself again, where her big brother would comfort her whenever she went through the tougher ordeals of adolescence. When she’d gotten a bit too rebellious in the face of her peers, or stubbornly strayed too far from her parents' wishes. And Jayce would always be ready to catch her.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not mad at you. I never was,” he hurriedly began to explain. “I was just worried you’d lose yourself. You were always this nice kid, and I guess I was disappointed that you put yourself through all that change. That you felt like you needed to remove those parts of yourself to fit in.”

“It was never about that,” she sniffed, cringing at her incoherent state. “You’re right; I was such a prick. To you, to Grayson. God, even my own parents. I don’t even know what the point was to any of it.”

“You were just lost, Cait. It was us who failed you, not the other way around. You were still a child. We should’ve been the ones supporting you. You didn’t deserve to have all that weight placed onto you.”

“I-I don’t know what to do, Jayce. Everything seems to crumble around me. You are here. I abandoned my parents. Grayson is dead.” Caitlyn took a shaky breath. A vivid image of Vi lovingly holding her, whispering sweet nothings to her flushed ears. The beat of her heart briefly stuttered. “A-And I just love her so much, Jayce, I don’t know what I’ll do if she dies. I don’t know if I can handle that pain. I don’t think I can survive if she leaves me.”

Jayce listened. His palm rested tenderly on her skin, swiping away a few scattered tears with his calloused thumb. “What’s her name?” he asked, a compassionate redirection to try and calm her down.

“Vi. Her name is Vi.”

He smiled soothingly, full of encouragement. Forever caring with her. “That’s a nice name,” he said. “How did you meet?”

The memory made the corners of her lips lift. Stormy grey eyes flirting so openly, so boldly with her. Unapologetically asked her for her number, which Caitlyn had silently denied by giving Vi her boss’ instead. It was beyond hilarious to hear Grayson tell her about Vi’s flustering mistake the next day.

“Progress Day. I visited her family’s bar that hosted the exposition. Her little sister is an innovative genius. Somewhat like you.” Caitlyn bit the inside of her cheek, then carefully shrugged Jayce’s hand off her face, replacing the delicate gesture by holding his hand with her own. “I’m here to ask a great deal from you. It won’t be easy, or nice, but I hope you’re willing to help.”

“Anything, Sprout,” Jayce replied instantly.

Caitlyn let go of his hand, and rifled through her pocket, retrieving his old journal. Jayce’s eyes rounded at the copper and leather-bound bundle. His breath quivered ever so slightly.

“All those years ago, that girl who got injured during the accident, it was Vi.”

His rounding eyes now almost bulged out of its sockets. Jayce opened his mouth, just to clamp it shut again. Clearly, he was stricken that Caitlyn, in some screwed-up and unbelievable way of fate, had met and fallen in love with the same girl that had caused the explosion at his office.

“Vi was the one– She’s– What are the odds, huh?” he snickered. Caitlyn was somewhat relieved that he took it well. Not that she had doubted it. Jayce had always been kind-hearted. Too empathetic and supportive for his own good. Even after he got incarcerated, he’d put Caitlyn’s feelings first, understanding that a young girl like her would struggle with finding peace among his sentence. His tone filled with affection as he addressed the more sensitive topic. “You said she’s dying. What’s wrong with her? How can I help?”

“The blast unleashed some form of the Arcane. It meddled with Vi’s body. She carries the magic inside, but it’s slowly been killing her.”

Jayce gawked at her, whether in awe of his Hexgems, or the absolute insanity of it, Caitlyn wasn’t sure. “So, she basically fused with the Arcane’s Wild Runes. I assume it’s what made her survive the explosion?”

“I think so, yes. The magic embedded within her and took the blow for her. She lost her arm in the process, but the Arcane shielded her from further lethal impact.” Caitlyn trembled in her speech. “Her condition is worsening, Jayce. She doesn’t have much time left. I-I'm at a loss here. I can’t lose her–”

Jayce looked downcast at her, a wistful frown. Hands shot out to grasp onto her forearms, holding her ever so gently. “Hey, it’ll be alright. Tell me what I can do for her.”

Caitlyn forced herself to recompose. Breathe in and out, slowly. It wasn’t the time to disintegrate into a useless mess. Not when Vi’s life was on the line. “I’ve brought her little sister along to tell you more about it in depth, but she wasn’t allowed in. We are trying to get you out of here.”

“Out?” Jayce exhaled deeply with a slight shake. “How?”

“I have a plan. Just prepare yourself to walk out of here by tonight.” Caitlyn’s adamant eyes locked on her brother’s longing ones. Then, diligently said, “I promise.”

The stately manor with towering columns and sprawling gardens loomed over her. Such a familiar sight yet so detached in its reception.

Caitlyn had sent Powder home to check up on Vi, who surely wouldn’t have appreciated waking up to an empty house, nor bed. Powder had kicked the directive at first, excited to see the infamous Kiramman estate up-close, but gave into her demand in the end when Caitlyn had shot Powder her just-as-infamous Sheriff glare. When the teal haired girl had retreated back to Zaun, Caitlyn wandered the eccentric streets of Piltover until she reached the very upper part of town. Several mansions resided in the rich neighbourhood, but none as imposing or extravagant as her ancestral home.

A gilded palace fit for royalty, glimmering in the sun, yet no longer held pleasantries for her. Or so she believed, at least.

Caitlyn hadn’t spoken with her parents in ages– seen for even longer. Shortly after she’d turned 18, legally an adult, Caitlyn had moved out and cut ties with them. Something that seemed so trivial and like unnecessary pettiness in hindsight. Hell, she hadn’t even opened their letter that she received for Grayson’s funeral, and it had been over more than a month. Caitlyn simply couldn’t get past that sour patch of their history.

But with everything that had been going on lately, she could no longer avoid what felt was inevitable.

She clutched the release forms tighter as she approached the grandiose front doors. A million rotten thoughts whirled through her head. Repressed memories and current worries alike. Would her parents even forgive her? Would her father pull her into one of his bearhugs? Would her mother ease her mind with precise phrasings and wise words?

Knuckles tapped anxiously against emerald coloured paint, and Caitlyn could hear the clamour of her knocking echo through the grand foyer beyond. Each waiting beat, her chest tightened more and more, and she nearly combusted from nerves, until the shrill clack of high-heels sounded from somewhere inside.

The door opened and,

“Caitlyn?”

Caitlyn gulped the dryness within her throat, mouth parting but too strained to greet her own mother. Cassandra Kiramman stood regally in the door opening, almost unrecognizable in how baffled and heart-wrenched she wore her expression upon seeing her daughter. Her cerulean blue eyes– the same shade they shared– were staring at her in utter astonishment and it made an overwhelming sense of relief and regret surge through Caitlyn.

“My dear, are you okay?”

Caitlyn forgot about the piece of paper in her hands entirely as soon as she heard the old endearment fall from her mother’s lips, and abruptly let the sheet drop to the ground.

“I’m so sorry.”

Caitlyn crashed into her mother, who returned the hug right away. Clearly, it was a day for crying and barrelling emotions, since dams once more burst wide open. Caitlyn buried herself deeper in her mother’s embrace, tears staining expensive fabric.

“I’ve been so stupid,” she hiccupped, breath uncontrollable as she repeated the same thing over and over again along with some choked-up apologies.

Her mom plucked at a stray strand of her hair and carefully tucked it behind her ear, caressing the top of her head as she steadied Caitlyn against her chest. “Breathe, Caitlyn. Do not be so hard on yourself.”

Caitlyn feverishly shook her head against her mother. “N-no. I deserve it. I left you and dad. I-I am the cause of your misery and my own. I’m s-so sorry.”

“Quit apologizing, dear.” Cassandra held Caitlyn at arms-length, tracing over the sight of her shivering daughter, pity apparent across her face. “Your father and I never stopped loving you. If anything, we wronged you. I do hope you can forgive us.”

“There’s no need for forgiveness,” Caitlyn said, voice tiny. “I just– I want us to be okay again. If that’s alright.”

“More than.” Her mom smiled, lovingly fondling Caitlyn’s cheek, just how she’d always done when Caitlyn was still a toddler. “I am glad to have you back. We missed you so dearly. Not a day has gone by where we haven’t thought of you.”

“I missed you too,” Caitlyn admitted wholeheartedly. “I never realized how much I needed you, until as of late. I regret not responding to any of your letters. I was a bit of an arse.”

“Caitlyn!” Her mother chastised her, though lacking any seriousness, because her next set of words made Caitlyn chuckle over her sobs. “Well, I suppose we’ve all been ‘a bit of an arse’, haven’t we?”

Caitlyn rinsed herself of wet streaks, and nodded with an embarrassing snotty laugh. Cassandra immediately pulled out a handkerchief, which Caitlyn retorted to with a flat ‘mom’, but yielded when her mother insisted on coddling her only daughter, and reluctantly blew her nose into the soft fabric anyway. Even though Caitlyn had audibly appalled the childish gesture, she secretly did delight in her mother babying her. Something about making up for lost time.

Cassandra folded the handkerchief and stored it away safely. She then reached down to gather the form Caitlyn had previously let go of, eyeing it engagingly.

“Oh,” Caitlyn said, “We don’t have to talk about that right now–”

“Oh nonsense. You wouldn’t have come here if it weren’t important.” Her mom waved Caitlyn’s defence off. “Let us go inside and discuss it over some tea.”

Over faintly familiar, and near-perfect brewed tea, Caitlyn proceeded to tell her everything crucial; the Arcane, the corruption leading to Vi’s demise, Jayce’s release forms and her warrant for a council member's signature. And after some prodding from her curious mother– as mothers generally tend to do when it comes to topics like this– Caitlyn had to lay out the entire timeline of her whirlwind romance with Vi, which Cassandra practically swooned at, then comforted Caitlyn in a more appropriate response.

“I’m glad to know you have found someone like Violet,” she had said to Caitlyn, clutching her hand throughout their conversation. “I was always afraid you’d distance yourself from such personal matters.”

“I have,” Caitlyn replied sullenly. “I drove myself to live in loneliness for the longest time. But I love her, mother. She opened my eyes and made me see again. Truly see. I don’t think I’d be where I am now if it weren’t for her.”

“I ought to extend my gratitude to her, then,” Cassandra said warmly. “For taking care of my little girl.”

“I don’t deserve her.” Caitlyn dug a canine in her bottom lip. She was being honest, at least to the extent of her own opinion on the aspect. Vi didn’t have to be involved with her. To indulge her whims and withstand her snarky attitude. But she had, and in turn freed Caitlyn from herself. Caitlyn could only hope to repay her someday.

“It is not a case of whether you’re deserving of her or not. She loves you and you love her. That should be plentiful. Is it not?”

Those were the exact grounding phrasings Caitlyn had ached for. Her mother had a knack for guiding her to calm waters. Making her stand firm in her shoes again.

“I suppose you’re right,” she sighed with a lopsided smile.

“Oh dear, you’re telling me I’m right now. We’ve come a far way.”

A better way, Caitlyn thought, but she didn’t voice it. Instead, she laid her head on her mother’s shoulder, skin resting against barely dried up clothes.

“I don’t want to lose her,” Caitlyn whispered.

“You won’t,” Her mom reassured her, patting her on the crown within navy hair. “We will do everything within our power to make sure you won’t.”

The freshly signed release forms were vehemently slapped on top of the warden’s desk.

He raised a brow, to which Cassandra equipped her own, but far more expertly and stern. “This should be sufficient.”

The large man turned from her mom to shoot Caitlyn a look before scanning over the document again, sighing. “I guess it is.”

“Perfect. Now, won’t you let me and my daughter gather our dear guest. I believe he’s been made aware of his imminent departure and should be prepared to leave.”

The guard rolled his eyes, muttering “Damn Kirammans” under his breath. He scavenged under his desk for a minute, and then tossed a key Caitlyn’s way. “Don’t let me see you here again today, Sheriff.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

She scurried herself and her mother inside the elevator for the second time that day, her mom pulling a face at the rough appearance of the ancient machinery. “We ought to clean out this place. It’s rather... distasteful.”

“Wait until you hear about the cafeteria food. It took Jayce months before he could stomach it.”

Her mother didn’t seem all that humoured. A deep wrinkle appeared across her forehead as she lost her confidence.  Very unbefitting of a usually calm and collected woman like her, something Caitlyn had hardly ever seen from her mom. “How has Jayce been doing?” Cassandra asked apprehensively.

“You sound nervous, mother.”

“Well, I suppose facing my old protégé whom I had a part in of imprisoning isn’t quite pleasant.”

It was Caitlyn’s turn to be nonplussed. “You regret it?”

“Of course I do, dear. At the time it was no question; Possessing such destructive contraptions crossed various ethical laws. But perhaps... as a mother and a patron, I should’ve handled the court differently. And for that I am deeply sorry.”

“He agreed, you know.” Her mother seemed shocked at the revelation, her everlasting composure faltering ever so slightly upon hearing Caitlyn speak. “He never held you accountable for your vote. After everything that happened, he actually believed it was the right course of action, like he deserved prison. It was me who wrongly imposed responsibility on you.”

Caitlyn averted her gaze to her boots, scuffing the floor with her sole. Jayce indeed never battled the decision of Stillwater. It was one of the reasons why Caitlyn had selfishly blamed him for hurting her. Letting himself go so willingly, without fight– Caitlyn had loathed him for it. The aftermath only showed her just how wrong she had been. How impartially blind she chose to be toward reality and how cruelly the world worked. She simply was unable to accept it, and now all there was left was shame.

“I can see this affects you as well,” Cassandra stated, poised but cautious. Providing Caitlyn solace once more. “Still, I believe I should’ve done more. Let us not dwell on the past too much, my dear. We’re here for a reason. We can finish this discussion after we settle Jayce’s and Violet’s situation. Don’t you agree?”

“Yeah, thank you.”

Her mother gently squeezed her hand when the elevator came to its stop. She escorted her mom through the dim hallway, ignoring rude remarks from the other prisoners as they walked by. Eventually, they arrived at Jayce’s cell.

“Cait, you’re back already– oh holy shit.”

“Hello Jayce,” Her mother said stiffly, hesitant in her approach.

Jayce looked goofily out of sorts by her mother’s appearance. “Councillor– erm, Miss Kiramman, what are you doing here?”

“Who do you think signed for your release?” Caitlyn teased him.

Jayce knew about Caitlyn’s estrangement from her parents, so it wasn’t surprising that he was currently darting between the two women in extreme confusion.

“Damn. When I woke up today, I didn’t think it’d be this eventful,” he chuckled somewhat awkwardly.

“Eventful is an accurate description indeed,” Caitlyn’s mother chipped in. “But please, call me Cassandra. No need for formalities.”

“Uh, right, sorry. So, I take it the band’s back together?”

“Mhm, just don’t make me regret it by saying those tacky catchphrases of yours,” Caitlyn hummed playfully, turning the key in its hole to release Jayce after many ruthless years of confinement.

As soon as iron bars slid aside, Jayce hauled Caitlyn into his arms. “Fuck, I missed hugging you like this. I guess it’s not really the same as before though. You’re pretty tall now, Sprout.”

“Feeling rivalled in your masculinity?” Caitlyn taunted, but pressed them more snugly together.

“With you? Hah, never.”

They let go, and Jayce gave Cassandra a firm pat on her shoulder, glancing between the mother-daughter duo like they’d treated him to ice cream. Caitlyn felt fondness rush over her. Two of the closest people to her, back in her life, after such lonesome time spent apart. United to aid the person Caitlyn loved the most.

Cassandra politely cleared her throat. “Not to ruin this rekindling moment, but I believe you’ve got work to do, Mr. Talis.”

He broadly grinned at the Kiramman ladies, mocking a salute.

“Save Cait’s girlfriend. Roger that.”

Chapter Text

Seeing Jayce work together with a pair of teenagers 13 years his junior was somewhat entertaining. Such was his flabbergast expression when he’d walked in on the makeshift workplace enclosed by the Fissure’s ravines. Powder had reeked of pride as she showed him around, though he didn’t seem to really share that impressed sentiment; He’d been warned when he leaned too heavily on the railing around the propeller to which he hurriedly bolted upright, made fun of when he didn’t understand the shabby plain instruments, and was generally chastised for being a ‘Topsider that doesn’t know shit’.

“Caitlyn, I’m begging you, ask your mother if we can use the laboratory in the Tower,” he had pleaded after his first day of work, and first day out of prison at that. 

Thus, the current Kiramman matriarch had pulled some strings to acquire them an entire floor of the research department in the council’s tower. Ekko and Powder had gaped at the modern layout of their new lab, filled with Piltover’s latest equipment and expensive resources. Hence punctuating the ‘City of Progress’ title. Though, occassionally, the young Zaunite couple would snicker at the impracticality of some designs, which they’d immediately developed further so that their own research could improve. 

Where there was progress on one front, led by the three inventors and supported by Cassandra Kiramman, who provided them with financial needs and official licenses after some particularly irritable council members had declared their doubts on the project, there was regress on the other front. 

It had first become apparent in Vi’s rapidly decreasing levels of energy. Someone who had once been so spirited, full of vigour and fight, reduced to barely being able to complete daily tasks before slumping down on the nearest armrest. Vander had demanded Vi quit the bar, his decision spurred on by an incident where Vi had dropped an entire platter of glasses due to blind spots suddenly clouding her vision. She’d stubbornly ignored and denied the first instance of regression. But soon it became clear to her, and everyone around her, that the issue could no longer be discarded. 

Caitlyn had witnessed it firsthand, when her and Vi had returned to Jericho’s, in reminiscence of that first night they’d spent together. The Sheriff watched Vi leave her plate untouched, face sour and pale. “I’m not that hungry,” Vi had told Caitlyn when she’d questioned it. Caitlyn’s worry only grew in extreme the more often Vi relinquished her need to eat. 

The other day, Caitlyn and Vi had lain in bed together, cuddled up and ready to go to sleep. A wandering hand under her nightgown had made the taller woman aware that her partner had other plans before ending their day. It wasn’t that Caitlyn didn’t want to– she could do this specific activity with Vi for an entire day if her career wasn’t that demanding– but she did notice the weariness in Vi, and softly assured her that they didn’t have to anything of the sorts if Vi couldn’t handle it. 

Vi, bull-headed and wanton as always, resumed her advances, undressing the Sheriff with adept fingers and desperate touches. Caitlyn let her– a case of letting Vi indulge herself in whatever she wanted at the moment, knowing that the girl had little else to look forward to. But when Vi hovered over her and promptly collapsed– Caitlyn managed to seize her, barely so– it broke the faux image of them being fine. 

“Vi!” she’d exclaimed as her hands firmly grasped onto broad shoulders. 

Vi grunted, deep and tainted with disgrace. “Fuck,” Vi groaned, holding herself up with her better arm. “Sorry Cait. I don’t– Fuck, this is so fucked.” 

“Hey, it’s okay. There’s nothing to feel bad about,” Caitlyn shushed her. 

Vi didn’t respond, but her long, shaky exhale was plenty for Caitlyn to understand Vi felt ashamed by her incapability of pleasuring the woman she loves. Vi dragged a hand over face, before resting her cheek against the bare bosom of her girlfriend, fighting– as of recent– reoccurring tears and the dreadful reality of her decaying body. Vi had always been a pleaser, a lover, through and through, so losing the physical endurance of loving Caitlyn properly was a hard hit for her. 

“I’m sorry,” Vi repeated against curvy, silky skin, as if it had been her fault, something she needed to correct. Caitlyn kept soothing her with kind words, loving touches, and traces through pink locks, until poor sleep consumed them both. 

In summary, Vi’s state visibly worsened, and with each passing day, Caitlyn grew more sick to her stomach. A sharp and lasting stab right in her gut which presence overtook everything else in her life. Days were filled with anguish and she could no longer focus when on the job. Paperwork blurred before her, and it only enhanced her anxious mind as she realized there was no escape from reality. 

Vi was going to be dead soon. 

Her colleagues started to notice her restlessness. Whether it be her quivering and slacking posture, or the dark circles underneath her eyes, they knew their boss was no longer up to her task of maintaining the law. “You should take some time off,” Steb encouraged her, a spokesperson but vexed nonetheless. “No one here would blame you. We stand with you, Sheriff.” 

Caitlyn nearly burst from exhaustion right in front of him, and thus complied to his advice, although begrudgingly. After all, she was still that solemn figure of authority, always striving to be at her best. But her best had become impossible, given that the person who made her a better person had morphed into an empty shell of themselves, and would soon perish altogether. 

Since Powder and Ekko were zeroed in on conducting their experiments with Jayce in Piltover, Caitlyn decided to spend all her newly found free time with Vi back in Zaun. Vander would occasionally drop by, and the three of them would enjoy a peaceful– for however long the universe would grant them– evening together; dining, drinking, chatting, recalling funny but humiliating stories of the past. And after Vi had dozed off on the couch in-between them, Vander had addressed Caitlyn in a typical fatherly fashion. 

“I’m glad she has you. I can’t begin to fathom how difficult this must be for you, too.” His gruff voice brought contentment and solace, though Caitlyn couldn’t find complete harmony within the tethers of her wrung heartstrings. “Grayson would’ve been overjoyed knowing that you two have found each other.” 

Caitlyn forced the corner of her mouth to lift. Vander went home, and she was left alone with the heavy stones of grief. It felt almost unfair, grieving Vi when her breathing sounded still. Caitlyn tried to untangle the mess of her heart, but was met with an unrelenting ache, constant in its presence and swallowing her whole. She sat back down on the couch, the only focal point Vi’s heaving evidence of being alive, while Caitlyn processed her whirlpool emotions manically, feeling as though she might drown. 

The breaths stopped. Caitlyn instantly froze up at the cold waters of Vi’s breathing ceasing forever, then elated relief when a soft “I love you” was whispered from the woman next to her. 

Caitlyn’s throat tightened around her words, “I love you, too.” 

It had been over a week. 

Perhaps her battery had recharged. 

Vi seemed to be doing much better the past few days. She felt less mangled and screwed tightly, instead bouncing with rediscovered vitality. Sure, her body was stiff and hurled pangs of pain through her tendons sometimes, but generally she’d say she was doing okay again. 

When she’d awoken to an especially good day– Caitlyn had sceptically looked her up and down– Vi decided to visit Powder at her new fancy location within the governmental building. Then Caitlyn could work at home without having to account for Vi’s needs every second and minute of the day. Her girlfriend could be really overbearing. Not that Vi minded, but it was good on her conscious if Caitlyn could get back to working rather than dawdle it until reports created tiresome mountains atop her desk. 

So, with a sloppy and overly-excited goodbye kiss to her girlfriend’s forehead, Vi took off. She happily traversed the buzzling Bridge of Progress toward Topside. The Tower’s grandeur almost slapped her in the face, reminding her once more how stark the contrast was, and always had been, between Piltover and Zaun. How different Caitlyn and Vi’s worlds were before they crashed into each other. That some underground, pit-fighting dog like her managed to have Piltover’s most notorious heir and leader of their law enforcement sleep beside her each night. 

Life brightened fully whenever Vi would think of her. Even under all the harsh unbearable pressure of threading toward death’s door, Caitlyn was a shining beacon in the dark. Or Vi just saw everything through rose coloured glasses for a fleeting moment. Sue her, she was in love and she felt good for once. She deserved to shove burdens aside from time to time. 

However, that burdening weight cemented itself back in place when Vi walked in on the laboratory. Various boards were crowded with notes and equations, runes chalked all over the dark green slate. A desperate attempt to, what, save her? Vi had forgone her chances a long time ago, unbeknownst to anyone else. It just wasn’t realistic, and Vi had always been something of a cynic herself. But that didn’t mean she’d express her beliefs so openly. Not to her little sister and Caitlyn in particular. 

In the very corner, beside a table clattered with glass instruments and copper appliances, vivid teal hair clashed against the otherwise whites of the room. Upon spotting her, Powder dropped her tools on her workbench, and threw her thin arms around Vi’s bulkier ones.  

“You’re here! Didn’t think Legs would allow you outside.” 

“Oh, she definitely debated against it, but you know me. Always thick-headed.” 

Her sister smirked. “Good to know you’re not letting yourself get domesticated by Miss Piltover herself.” She leaned forward, beckoning Vi to come closer. “Mr. Piltover here has been just like her, ya know. Full on paranoid and a stick up the butt. I didn’t know their bond ran that deep.” 

Vi let out a snort. “Well, Cait has tamed me, I can’t lie. My pillows have only known one set of teeth ever since we’ve met.” 

“Oh, okay, that’s it. I’m sibling-divorcing you again.” 

Vi had taken a kicking-and-screaming Powder in a lax headlock, when heavy footsteps approached. She let go of a struggling Powder, watching her girlfriend’s best friend enter the vicinity. He held up a single hand in greeting. Kind of awkward but also perfectly fitting for him. 

They’d met about a week ago. Vi had invited Jayce over when Caitlyn insisted on introducing them, cooing at how cute it would be to have her two favourite people be in the same room. What should’ve been a teasing moment for Vi got deflected when Jayce’s eyebrows disappeared in his hairline, telling Caitlyn he could see why she was so hooked as he eyed Vi’s muscular form. 

Caitlyn had blushed heavily, her cheeks painted a deep maroon. And she only grew more flustered over the span of the afternoon as Vi and Jayce hit it off thereon out, poking and taunting Caitlyn like a pair of sinister devils. So, yes, Vi decided she liked Jayce, and clearly the impression was mutual. 

“Sup, pretty boy. How’s the weather?” Vi greeted him. 

“Oh, you know. Bleak with a fair amount of oily grease. Can’t say I haven’t missed tinkering on apparatuses,” he grinned broadly, pearly teeth on display and his thick gloves indeed stained with black residue. Like Caitlyn, he also had a slight gap in the front of his teeth. Even if they weren’t family by blood, Vi found the similarity utterly adorable. 

“He honestly should leave all the engineering work to Ekko and I,” Powder interjected with a clack of her tongue. “And leave the theoretical analysis to that twisted brain of his.” 

Vi hummed, eyes darting back to the blackboard. “That all you, then?” 

Jayce nodded eagerly as he paced toward his jottings, large hand splayed on free space in between the chalk. “Neat, right? I’ve been going over it all day and night. It’s like my mind just picked everything back up right where I left it!” 

“Mad scientist,” Powder whisper-coughed. Lowkey a hypocrisy Vi had to chuckle at. 

“It’s not ready yet.” Jayce’s tone had grown serious, and Vi’s inners churned at the fading airiness of the room. Right. This was the reason why they had gathered. “I might need another couple of weeks before I can conclude the Arcane’s functions. But I’m certain we’ll get there. We can do this, Vi.” 

He placed an affirming hand on her shoulder. Vi didn’t respond. She simply dipped her head in acknowledgement but there was no real faith behind it. We can do this. The steady pain in her body said otherwise. 

She had misjudged the recharge of her battery. 

A singular day spent away from the comforts of her home, and Vi had felt like she could hibernate for the rest of the year. She was sore, worn and thoroughly depressed when she’d left the Tower. Guilt incessantly gnawed at her insides the more Powder and Jayce gloated about their project, repeatedly telling Vi that everything might work out in the end. That Jayce might tweak the Arcane. That everything might be fine. 

Might.

Vi internally scoffed at it.

The verb only insinuated uncertainties and possibilities, while Vi knew better than anyone else that it was beyond hopeless. Perhaps the thought was a bit unfair. There was hope. Caitlyn’s pretty blues were filled with hope when Vi had returned home. There was hope in the way she casually told Vi about her day and all the accessible cases she’d solved, as if she believed this domesticity could carry on for the rest of their lives. Hope in how Caitlyn held Vi against herself as they drifted to sleep. 

Vi just didn’t share that feeling. 

She’d had her good days. Now there were only bad ones. 

Sometimes Vi grew fully numb, physically but particularly mentally. Her mind would drift off more than ever before, and she’d actively had to resist unconsciousness taking her over. It felt like she was slowly sinking, staring up at beams of sunlight bursting through the surface and illuminating the depths below. 

Then, Vi would wake up in cold sweat, feeling as though her throat had been fused shut, like water from her dreams had occupied the space within her lungs. Blue luminescence flickered in the dark, on beat with her laboured respiratory. Trembling fingertips reached for the starting point of her scars on her shoulder blade, trailing down toward the tail ends of her injury. She could feel the throbbing, as though the Arcane was trying to force its way out of her through the lightning shaped cracks on her body. Brazen thuds against her bones and skin like Noxian war drums. 

Vi pushed the uncomfortable feeling aside, nestling back into the mattress and the arms of her lover in a weak attempt to force herself to sleep once more. 

But when morning came, and Caitlyn arose next to her, she’d gasped out loud. 

“Vi, your scars.” 

Turned out the glow no longer dissipated by itself, but remained steadfast in pulses of vivid blue. A siren or an alarm of some sort, dictating the timer of a detonating bomb. Caitlyn grew more anxious around her, much to Vi’s annoyance, although she couldn’t quite hold her solely accountable. Vi was on edge, too.

The alerted demeanor of the Sheriff became noticeable through simple actions, each one spurring Vi on to lash out in irritation. 

“Dear fucking Janna, I can do it myself.” Vi yanked the spoon from out of Caitlyn’s hand, who was about to feed Vi as if she was some useless, fragile child. Vi loathed the overly careful treatment, disregarding the sudden venomous tone of her voice. But when Caitlyn’s face fell, Vi did feel bad. She sighed. “Cupcake, it’s fine. Just don’t do that again.” 

Caitlyn stayed quiet after that. Emptying her plate without further conversation. Vi had beaten herself up over it. Still, specks of frustration lingered between them. Neglected and unaddressed.  

Such mishaps went on the next few days; Caitlyn had kneeled down to lace Vi’s boots for her, Vi having to swat her hand away to do it herself. During their daily walk for some fresh air, Vi accidentally slipped on the uneven cobblestones of Zaun’s pavements, and Caitlyn immediately latched onto her, refusing to let go for the remainder of their walk. These gestures would’ve been gallant if Vi wasn’t so torn over herself. Feeling like she was being portrayed as weak by her own damn girlfriend, who subconsciously kept treating her that way. 

Vi primarily disliked whenever Caitlyn strayed from intimacy, too scared to hurt Vi. But all she did was make Vi feel worse about herself. She didn’t want to be some breakable frame, too dangerous to even touch or hold. 

Their fight about a specific occasion that involved Caitlyn refusing to sit in Vi’s lap– something so trivial and meaningless– had been the worst they’d ever had. It resulted in Caitlyn taking the couch for the night. Powder, who came home late from the lab and found the Sheriff asleep in the living room, had asked Vi about it the next morning, to which Vi simply shrugged, leaving her sister confused and fairly concerned. 

After that, the air surrounding them remained tense. Vi knew Caitlyn meant well. She knew that Caitlyn did all these smalls things out of love and care. Caitlyn didn’t even argue back whenever Vi would explode at her. She just let Vi rant and fume, taking every bullet, each cutting word leaving dents in her armour.  

Until Vi shook awake from her abrasive behaviour and put an end to the one-sided feud. 

“Come back to bed.” Vi strolled inside the living room, met with the sight of Caitlyn settling beneath a fleece blanket on the couch, preparing herself for a second night in unjust exile. “I’m sorry, alright. You don’t have to sleep out here again.” 

“Okay,” Caitlyn had easily replied. But under the warm covers of their bed, Caitlyn hadn’t crawled closer, hadn’t thrown her arms around Vi like she used to do. Vi wondered how enveloped body heat could feel so cold.

Soap lathered arms braced against the wall of the shower. One of flesh, the other shimmering metal. A sheer reminder of everything that was wrong. 

Another indication flared up at the same time. Blue hue emanating from her back, clashing against the ivory tiles of the bathroom. It had gotten to the point where Vi wouldn’t even take notice of the strange light, already used to the foreign bodily reaction. The light of a dying star, soon ceasing to exist, leaving behind its last few shining moments. 

Her head hurt especially bad when she’d woken up this morning. A loud knocking against her skull, daring to break bone. Vi had taken some pills against her headache that Caitlyn had offered her, then decided to take a long shower to try and rid the thumping. To physically wash everything alien away beneath steaming streams. Though, the scorching water felt like nothing but ice. 

Why was she so goddamn cold? 

Vi groaned when she shut off the shower, stepping outside to collide with unbearable crisp air. She towelled herself dry, dragging the cloth over and down her face, revealing herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were hollow. Eyes dull and meek. Pink hair combatting black dye as it had grown more prominent atop her head. 

She looked rotten, fully drained by the Arcane swirling inside her, barely appearing alive. 

Ripping herself from her reflection, Vi padded back to her bedroom, seeing her bed empty and neatly made. Caitlyn must’ve gotten up to start her day some time ago. There hung an unspoken trepidation in the air, something that needed to be resolved between the two women. Vi sighed as she begun dressing, mentally preparing herself to face her grumpy girlfriend. Well, she’d been grumpy, too, so she couldn’t put all the blame on Caitlyn. Which made her feel even worse, because she really was the only reason why they were even arguing in the first place. 

Loose jogging pants and a muscle tee coated her skin when she stepped into the living room, eyes immediately finding the tall Piltovian situated at the dinner table, various paperwork already scattered before her. Caitlyn looked up, sporting a rueful smile at Vi’s entrance. 

Vi sheepishly rubbed her nape, and walked over in silence to sit beside Caitlyn, gingerly pulling out one of the chairs. “Morning, Cupcake.” 

“Good morning.” 

Vi hated how shallow their interactions had been lately. From deep and meaningful conversations to exchanging a mere few words. Vi’s own fault, really. 

“I’m sorry for my behaviour,” she said airily, hand reaching out for Caitlyn’s but landing on the table instead. “Guess I’m just worked up.” 

Caitlyn accepted her apology with a low hum, grasping Vi’s hand firmly with her own. “There’s more to it. Isn’t there?” 

The Sheriff stayed true to her status. Sharp and perceptive as ever. Seeing right through her as if she’d known Vi her whole life.  

“Well– I dunno. Everything’s been so shitty. People seem to change around me– treating me differently. I don’t think I like it.” 

Caitlyn sat up straighter, her thumb absentmindedly brushing over Vi’s in comforting and sympathetic strokes. “I’m sorry if I added onto that,” she said softly. 

“You mean well. It’s me who makes it a lot worse than it actually is.” Vi pressed on. “It’s hard, baby, but I would appreciate it if you’d show it a little less. Be less mindful of me, if that makes sense.” 

Caitlyn’s face scrunched up at her illogical request, Vi could see the disagreement in her stern eyes, yet Caitlyn did relent in the end, simply nodding to adhere to her wishes. Vi smiled.

But then an excessive knock budded against her brain, blurs forming around her. Her limbs grew heavy. Like chained weights towed her downwards to the bottom of that ocean she’d dreamt of. Caitlyn didn’t seem to notice, and when Vi faltered forward, the Sheriff had thought Vi went in for a hug.

“I suppose I could be a bit laid-back from now on,” Caitlyn said, embracing Vi. 

Vi tried to reciprocate– to wrap her strong arms around the woman she loves and hold her like nothing else mattered. But her arms weren’t listening, and her head was spinning, her home’s furniture and painted walls merging together. Caitlyn’s familiar body shape turning into a remote touch, so close in reality yet so far away in Vi’s cognizance. 

“You could’ve just told me straight away, you know? There’s no need for an apology if I made you uncomfortable at any point.” Caitlyn soothed her, and Vi murmured an incoherent response against the fabric on Caitlyn’s shoulder, slowly lulling into an abyss. Shadows and nullity clawing at her until her body felt torn open. 

Her speech came out slurred, and lacked volume, more like the ghost of a breath. 

“Babe...” 

A trickle of crimson dripped from her nose, staining the alabaster blouse of her girlfriend. Red was the last thing Vi saw. 

“Everyone’s just been working so hard for you, and it kind of made me feel powerless.” Caitlyn rambled on, not having heard the faint whisper Vi had let out. Long fingers cradled pink hair, leaving traces in damp locks. “I just love you so much, Violet. And I want to show you that every day. In everything I do. I hope you understand that.” 

When no response came from the girl in her arms, Caitlyn first assumed that Vi had been quietly taking in the comforts of their affection, but then Vi’s head weakly rolled on her shoulder, and her body sagged against Caitlyn. 

“Vi?” 

It was in that moment that Caitlyn noticed thick liquid seeping through her shirt. A horrible, gut-wrenching fear plunged into the deepest parts of her soul. The one turning point Caitlyn had been so utterly afraid of. 

“Vi!” 

She hurriedly kept Vi at arms-length, frightened eyes darting over her girlfriend’s unconscious form. Blood poured from her, a colour so harrowing and unnatural that it appeared almost black. The flickering of the Arcane’s energy remained as urgent as it had been, bright blue alarmingly cracking through Vi’s skin. 

Caitlyn’s heart dropped to her stomach.

Fluorescent lights absorbed her eyesight. 

“Cait, I need you to stay calm, okay?” 

Drumming nearly popped her ears as everything else faded into mute chasm. Jayce was wildly gesturing in front of her, and his mouth moved, though Caitlyn didn’t hear any of his words due to the deafening pounding of her heart. It was as if she was floating through outer space, nothing but darkness swallowing her as she drifted further and further away. 

After Vi suddenly blacked out, Caitlyn had to repress the overwhelming pangs of devastation and distress in order to remain properly functional and call for Vander, who’d immediately turned up at the apartment and helped her bring Vi to Piltover. He'd gone back to the waiting room outside, unable to witness the rest.

Vi’s limp body lay on a makeshift operation table, tubes and wires connected to her in a gruesome manner. The sight made Caitlyn want to vomit, or cry, perhaps pass out, too. Hell, all of it at the same time, probably. Every single fibre of her body quaked as she stared forward, seeing everything and nothing at all. 

Vi could really well die today. Take her last breaths, think her last thoughts, live her last and only life. What would it take? Hours, minutes, seconds? Caitlyn refused to mull over it, let alone accept the very possible fact that Vi would be gone soon. 

“Caitlyn!” 

She tipped her head up in slight acknowledgement, meeting Powder’s face above her. The shorter girl was eerily pale, matching the white lab coat she wore, worry and pain buried behind a mask of laser focus. She’d shaken Caitlyn from her catatonic spiral, trembling hands clutching the Sheriff’s shoulders that trembled much alike. 

“We’re about to take Vi in. Now’s the time to say goodbye or–” 

“–No,” Caitlyn stammered, gulping back a thick, dry knot stuck in her throat. “No, I don’t think I can.” 

Powder tight lipped, sympathy across her features. Caitlyn couldn’t imagine the hardship she was going through. A little sister needing to watch her older sibling wither away, work on her in a Hail Mary to save her. 

They weren’t ready. None of the research was even close to finished. Jayce had said so when they brought Vi in, stuttering in broken hassle himself. He’d scanned the blackboard repeatedly, as if the solution would reveal itself if he just gawked it down hard enough. Ekko had hauled himself to ready the procedure room, where some sort of tube capsule resided that had the little hairs on Caitlyn’s arms standing on end. Vi was supposed to lay in there, supposed to have electricity and unknown substances get pumped into her, supposed to heal from that. 

Those thoughts didn’t bring her any comfort. Nor did that tendency recede when Jayce and Ekko whispered to one another, helplessly shaking their heads at the clipboard of notes they held. 

Oh, she was going to be sick. The nerves in her body twitched like a live current, threatening her to snap. There was an awful density behind her eyes, urging her to break down in tears or else she might explode. Everyone had been in a hectic rush, running around to adjust for their lacking preparations. 

They were supposed to have more time. Vi’s body shouldn’t have given out so early. Everything had gone so terribly fucking wrong. An infuriating blitz was toying with her. Caitlyn’s breath hitched, tangled within the incompetence of her windpipe. She was suffocating. Drowning. She was losing herself– 

“I get it.” 

Powder’s soft voice pulled her back once more, exuding a sense of calm over her. Their relationship hadn’t started off in the best of ways, shaky at most, but they’d grown fonder of the other. United in their love for the same woman, joint in their grief for her, too.

“Whatever happens today– whatever the outcome, you’ll always be welcome with us.” The younger sister let her hands travel down Caitlyn’s arms, until their clammy palms met, which Caitlyn accepted with a mournful smile. “Vi loves you. And she would’ve loved you until the end of the world if she could. Don’t ever forget that.” 

Powder let go with a small squeeze. 

Caitlyn braced herself, taking a sharp inhale. “The same goes for you,” she breathed out. 

This was it, then. The last opportunity Caitlyn could feel and touch and just witness her Violet before she was ripped away from her. Caitlyn doubled-back on Powder’s question, and slowly walked over to Vi’s side, placing skin on skin one final time. She pressed a kiss to icy lips, whispering a declaration that felt oh so natural and familiar to her, hoping Vi would hear her beyond the dark horizon. 

Jayce and Ekko, safety goggles and gloves adorned, took a hold of Vi’s procedure table, nodding at Caitlyn as they rolled Vi off to the contamination area, placing her listless figure within the confines of the capsule.

Powder gave her a consoling look, trailing after the two men as glass sliding doors closed behind them, while Caitlyn remained outside. Only a wistful and taxing sense prevailed within her as she watched the three scientists get to work, inserting more intricate wires where blue light persisted. 

A final press of a button kickstarted the machineries and all Caitlyn could do was stay put and sensible, pray for Vi to survive.

To stay with her.

Chapter Text

“Earth to Caitlyn.”  

The Sheriff snapped up at the intruding voice. 

Vi stood in the doorway of her office, a big grin sprawled onto her face whilst holding two plastic bags up. 

Right. Once again, Caitlyn had forgotten about the day progressing into late hours. Her stomach roared at the neglect, and her body reacted to the strong aromas of those bags floating through the space of her workplace. 

“Some Ionian place,” Vi answered her unspoken question. “The one you mentioned before, if I’m not mistaken.” 

Caitlyn softened at the attentive gesture, a recurring deed Vi had nurtured within their budding relationship. Or whatever it was they had developed. 

After Grayson’s passing, and Caitlyn’s inauguration, Vi had joined her task force to secure the remaining Chem-barons. A revengeful act, or justice; Those lines often blurred for her. But Vi had stayed by her side, coddling her with those kind gestures of hers, calming her down with well-placed words, working with the strike team to keep an eye on her rather than enforce the law. 

Suffice to say; It didn’t take long for Caitlyn’s heart to be enraptured by the pink-haired brawler. 

Vi furthered her entree, and promptly dropped the takeout bags onto her desk, right on top of her reports. Caitlyn was about to scold her for it, but the delicious scent of Ionian kitchen quickly shut her up. 

“Wasn’t sure what to order for you, so I just chose the popular dishes.” 

Caitlyn didn’t tell her that it was precisely what she would normally order, too. She never really put much thought into dinner, nor did she bother with scanning over the ample menu. Whatever was listed at the top would be adequate enough, in her opinion. But when Vi opened her own food container, she couldn’t help but grow curious as to what the other woman had picked out for herself. 

It seemed like Vi had caught her ogling her food, because she held up her chopsticks toward Caitlyn, a sizeable piece of steaming vegetable clutched between thin wood. 

“You don’t have to share,” Caitlyn offered meekly. 

“I want to. Now, just take the damn bite, Cupcake.” 

Caitlyn puffed her cheeks, yet reluctantly accepted. Vi had excellent taste, was the first thought that popped up. The savoury flavour was perfectly measured in a way that had Caitlyn mentally drool. In all her years of living in Piltover and being acquainted with the small restaurant, she’d never eaten something this good. 

“We can swap, if you want.” Vi grinned even wider, taking some sort of pride in the fact that Caitlyn shyly preferred her food choices. Caitlyn was about to retort, not wanting to make Vi give up her meal, but Vi firmly shook her head. “I don’t mind sticking to your noodles. Really, just take mine.” 

With a full belly, and a satisfactory aftertaste on her tongue, Caitlyn could honestly drop to her knees for the woman sat across from her at her desk. Sweet, caring Vi, putting so much effort in providing a bitter, cold woman like her with all the love and care Caitlyn secretly yearned for over the past lonely years. 

No. It was Vi whom Caitlyn yearned for. 

Caitlyn had to restrain herself from letting those three valuable words fall from her lips. 

Her life had been filled with regret. Betrayal and antipathy the most prominent factors. But with Vi, her days became colourful. With Vi, Caitlyn felt warmth and comfort again. Vi, who’d burst through the high walls Caitlyn had carefully built since she was 15-years old. Vi, who’d never flinched away from her curt behaviour and snappy remarks. Vi, who’d stayed with her, even if Caitlyn had adamantly tried to pry herself off of her. 

But Vi had made a home within her heart, each beat a harmonious melody dedicated to that savage but kind pit fighter she’d met on Progress Day. 

“Whatcha thinking about, pretty girl?” 

Back then, at her office with takeout food occupying her workspace, Caitlyn hadn’t known the turmoil that their future-selves would go through. The pain and grief Caitlyn had to deal with as Vi appeared more spent and devoid of life before her with each passing day. She hadn’t known that their time together would be stolen by the cruelty of the universe. 

Caitlyn couldn’t have known, but if she had, she’d choose Vi over and over again. There was simply no other option, not to her. Not for her. Vi would always be Caitlyn’s choice. In any lifetime, however cruel or bright, Caitlyn would only ever want her. 

“Something important.” Caitlyn half-hid the truth, undaring to utter the word ‘someone’ instead. 

But Vi could tell– she’d always been able to tell– what Caitlyn meant. It was in her expressive eyes, the softest of scrunches of her regal nose, the way her lips parted and revealed that cute gap in her front teeth whenever Vi would tease her. 

And so, Vi leaned over, boldly kissing the Sheriff right in her own office, as though it was the most natural of facts that Caitlyn was hers.

She can’t lose her. Caitlyn would rather off herself than let Vi die. 

She’d situated herself in the waiting room. Not an official one but the hallway outside of the lab, where a few chairs had been shoved against the wall to create a makeshift waiting area. Ekko had explained to her that the radiation was dangerous if she wasn’t wearing the appropriate equipment, and Jayce carefully told her it was for the best if she stayed away from Vi’s procedure. “It won’t be a nice sight,” he had said. 

Thus, Caitlyn was placed in the hallway, counting the ticking clock in her mind as she picked at her fingernails.  

Vander had already been sitting there, too. Although, their exchange of small talk stayed limited, both too much in their own heads to try and acknowledge the other verbally. Even Vander, who always eased his way through tough communication, was at a loss of words. 

Caitlyn recalled the evening when he’d come over for dinner. How chivalrously Vi had introduced her dad to her. Vander was humoured by Caitlyn’s change in attitude from when he’d first seen her, but they instantly clicked regardless. Light conversation was shared over drinks, so was the more strenuous one of Vi’s condition. 

“This friend of yours will be able to figure it out?” Vander had asked Caitlyn, a hopeful glint in his eyes that made her guts twist and turn. 

“He might. We can’t tell yet.” 

The three of them lingered in strained silence, clutching their glasses as dread soared over them imposingly. Vi had shied away from the subject, opting to sip her drink instead. A thousand thoughts whirled through Caitlyn in concern of her girlfriend’s grim mood. She reached for her hand underneath the table, clasping it in solidarity. 

“All because of some magical force,” Vander grunted, finishing his drink in one wry swig. 

Then, much later, when Vander had taken his leave, and Vi lay beside Caitlyn in the safety of their bed, Vi did speak up. 

“This isn’t how I thought my life would turn out.” Vi had turned on her side, aiming those stormy grey eyes on Caitlyn, who practically melted under her loving gaze. “But even if it were to destroy me– the Arcane, I’m glad it has given me the chance of meeting you.” 

“Vi...” Caitlyn sucked in a sharp breath, reaching for her lover’s cheek with the top of her fingertips. 

“I mean it, Cait. We can lament the magic all we want, but it did give me the miracle of surviving the Hexgem explosion. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have known you. Wouldn’t have gotten to love you like this. Be loved by you in return.” 

“I do,” Caitlyn said, wholeheartedly. “So, so much. I would trade anything in the world for you, Violet.” 

“I know. I can feel it.” Vi grasped Caitlyn by her hand, pressing her scarred lips to those knuckles that once shattered a mirror in some faraway bar, fuelled by nothing but desolation and bitterness. Vi whispered against her healed skin, “At least I got to be alive with you, Cupcake.” 

Now, here in that daunting hallway, all Caitlyn could do was clutch her once lacerated fist tightly as she prayed Vi could remain that way– Alive, and with her. 

“You’re shivering.” Vander had addressed her, forcing Caitlyn to bolt upright at his gruff voice. She’d almost forgotten that the man had been next to her all along. “And there’s some bloodstains on your shirt.” 

He pointed at her shoulder where Vi had abruptly collapsed against. Caitlyn tugged at the fabric so she could see the crimson mess on her blouse. The image of spurts of blood rushing from Vi had planted a revolting memory in her brain. 

“Here.” Vander didn’t give her time to rebut when he shrugged his jacket off to remove the sweatshirt underneath. He held it out for her, urging her to accept it, and Caitlyn understood that he wouldn’t let her reject his offer.  

He faced the wall as Caitlyn took her ruined blouse off, and covered herself in his sweater. The article of clothing was way too big on her, dwarfing her within thick cotton fabric, but it was nice and warm against her skin. Something she didn’t realize she needed. 

“Thanks,” she said weakly. 

Sound clicks of heels echoed through the vacant hallway, stepping closer to the only two occupants. 

Cassandra Kiramman’s strutting came to a stop in front of them. 

“Oh, my darling,” her mother cooed at her, instantly meeting her in a tight embrace that Caitlyn initiated by basically throwing herself into her mother’s arms. “I’ve heard Violet’s been taken in. How is she?” 

“S-she just blacked out all of a sudden. It happened so fast I couldn’t even–” Her words got strangled by a sob, which her mom soothingly ushered away by rubbing her back with circular motions. 

“They’re working on her right now,” Vander helped her out. The Kiramman matriarch raised a brow, worry across her features from understanding the dire situation– understanding that Jayce’s research was nowhere near completion. That no one, and nothing, had been ready yet. They needed time that didn’t exist. 

“I see,” her mother said stiffly, parting from Caitlyn to observe her daughter and take her face into her palms. Caitlyn knew she looked a mess. Puffy eyes and a drippy nose. Yet, her mom gazed deeply into her eyes, determination and ardour swarming in her own. “Listen to me, dear. They are doing everything they can. In my whole life, I haven’t known the smarts that Powder, Ekko and Jayce clearly do possess. Violet could not be in better hands.” 

Caitlyn nodded meekly in between her palms, placing her own atop her mother’s as she nuzzled further into her. She barely fathomed how she had endured the lack of her mother's touch for so long, depriving herself from such immeasurable affection. Creating a deep, dark pit for her own self-wallow, rather than welcome the person whose guidance she desperately needed. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, smiling through her woe as her mother reciprocated. 

“I believe I’ve yet to speak with Violet. I ought to meet my future daughter-in-law, don’t you think so, dear?” 

Caitlyn cracked a real laugh at that, all snotty and muffled, but fully sincere nonetheless. “Yes, you’re right. She would love that.” 

“So would I.” 

For a fleeting moment, Caitlyn felt grounded again, here in her mother’s care.  

Would she have ever gotten here if it weren’t for Vi? Another reason for Caitlyn to be eternally grateful toward her girlfriend for. That her love for Vi trumped any petty hatred she’d collected throughout the years. That Vi truly opened her eyes to reality again, like Caitlyn had concluded so many times already, and made her rekindle all her broken relationships that she never knew she needed back. 

The serene moment was fleeting indeed, because an abrupt and loud bang from within the laboratory made all three of them jolt. 

Freezing water seized her entire being, and Caitlyn barely recognized her mother’s hold on her arm before she rushed inside, slamming the doors wide open. 

Blue light instantly blinded her. Holding a hand up to shield herself, she nearly sprinted toward the glass sliding doors, still shut and unable for Caitlyn to pass through. The three scientists stood ramrod inside, clutching onto the control panel in shock, and Caitlyn banged against the glass to try and get their attention. 

It was Jayce who turned to her, nearing her and screaming over the buzzing noises of faulty machines. His yells were muted, the laminated glass preventing from forced entry, or exit. But Caitlyn could understand everything from the exasperated look in his eyes. 

She glanced to the tube capsule. Vi remained eerily still, blood spurting from her nose and mouth. The prosthetic blasted waves of voltage over platinum surface, and her scars lit up in agonizing consistency, flashing in tandem as blue rays shot through the fortified vicinity. 

The ground sunk beneath her feet. 

With a press of a button, Jayce opened the barrier between them, shielding Caitlyn from blue like he’d done all those years ago. 

“What’s happening?” 

“The Arcane– it’s overloading.” Whirring of mechanisms subdued his stammering voice. “Our only chance of success is to crank up its energy levels, but– fuck, Cait– we don’t think her body can handle the pressure. It’ll kill her.” 

Kill her.

Somehow Caitlyn’s worst nightmare had become reality. 

The past month, she had lived in calm before the storm. Witnessing grey clouds gather to eventually unleash utter hell. And there was nothing she could do to prevent it. After all, her existence seemed uselessly pale in comparison with the magnitude of the universe– the prowess of Runeterra’s ancient magic. 

“There’s something you can do, right?” Caitlyn drowned out her surroundings, wholly stricken by dark liquid dripping from the corner of her girlfriend’s stale mouth. “There has to be a solution– You can fix this, Jayce. You have to! You fucking need to–” 

“We’re trying, Cait, we’ll do anything, it’s just– there’s nothing else to do. She can’t beat the Arcane tampering with her, the human body is too fragile. She’ll die like this if we continue.” 

Everything had come down to this. Some low percentage of succession that was finalized. Jayce’s hold on her shoulders didn’t hamper any of her panic. Didn’t ease her swirling mind. Wouldn’t save Vi. 

Invisible claws wrapped around her throat, withholding her from air, digging sharp nails into her frigid skin. Each second could mean Vi’s last, and with that impeding knowledge, Caitlyn’s own lifeforce seemed to clog further and further, until she was unsure whether she’d survive herself.  

She once had deemed a life without Vi unworthy to live. That never changed.  

Not when Vi held her entire will to live in her gentle, calloused but oh so secure hands. Ones that Caitlyn couldn’t bear lose feeling upon her. 

Could she ever accept losing Vi over some uncontrollable force like the Arcane? A power so unknown and beyond human understanding that made the whole scenery of Vi’s death seem all the more unfair. Perhaps, the Arcane’s nature was a plain and unjust torture. A violent energy human nature couldn’t compete with. Didn’t have the capacity of changing. 

Or, did they? 

The hurricane within her mind stilled, if just for a brief passage of time. Blue lights, Powder’s sobs, Ekko’s curses, Jayce’s heaving; it all halted momentarily as she slowly came to a realization. 

She’d once asked, in an eery investigation room, purple substance perched on top of the table separating them, unbeknownst to her what merciless answer lay beyond, “Why? Why do all this?” 

Singed had looked up at her, his face twisted and burned, half covered by scrappy bandages. A sorrowful glint in his broken irises, undoubtedly in regard of his ill-fallen daughter he’d so desperately sought a cure for. 

“Why does anyone commit acts others deem unspeakable?” 

Their gazes had met on the purple glowing tube in between. Caitlyn hadn’t grasped his next words. Not truly– not to the same extent she did now. 

For love.  

Jayce narrowed his eyes, incredulously scanning her over. “Cait?” 

Her legs started to move on their own. Away from Jayce, away from electric blue, from the sight of her lover dying. She stormed past her own mother and Vander outside, deaf to their frantic questions and worries. Hallway after hallway, she sprinted down, turning corners and bashing into wandering employees who scoffed and cussed her out for it. She didn’t give them any notice, her mind blank and fixated on her current and most crucial objective as of yet. 

It wasn’t until she’d reached the secured archives of Piltover, having climbed down numerous stairs rather than take her chances with busy elevators, that she perceived the guards, who scrambled from their posts to address her accordingly. 

“Sheriff Kiramman! This is a restricted area.” One of the guards moved in front of her, refraining her from entering the archive beyond. The Enforcer uniform on him was all too familiar, but she knew it wasn’t within her rights to order them aside. Not as their boss, at least. However, as a hysterical girlfriend... 

She grasped onto the lapels of his navy vest, yanking him closer, her voice an underlying growl. 

“Move, officer.” 

“Ma’am, regarding the Tower’s policies, we’re instructed to solely follow council’s orders–” 

“Do you not think I know that? I said fucking move!” 

The guard in her grip glanced at his colleagues, who were just as struck by their Sheriff’s outrage. Caitlyn understood she was breaking various rules and even laws were she to trespass, and that she was stressing her underlings out by making them choose between their oath to the city’s council and the Sheriff. 

Though, she stubbornly held her glare, and after some more hesitation, the guard gulped and stepped aside. Caitlyn strid past him, knowing this could very well get her fired. 

And honestly, she couldn’t care less.  

A career she’d strived for all her life, worked endlessly and tirelessly for, could fully be damned in the prospect of increasing Vi’s survival rate, however negligible it may be.  

Caitlyn would give anything in return for her girlfriend’s wellbeing. Thus, that motivation made her heated eyes roam over the storage room, advancing past tall shelves full of boxes and case files. The specific date hadn’t left her mind and she found herself in the pathway of stored evidence from that day. 

The day she’d arrested the drug induced pit fighter that knocked the lights out of Vi. 

His prosthetic was tucked away in a large crate, and after some rummaging, Caitlyn retrieved the singular vial of amethyst liquid that remained from the Enforcer’s raids. The only Shimmer that wasn’t wept from existence. 

The last means to salvage Vi. 

Clutching the small bottle, Caitlyn marched her way back, past the stupefied guards, up the abundance of stairs, the only pounding thought being of Vi. It had to work. The Shimmer had to work.  

Vander and Cassandra had vacated the hallway when she returned, finding them inside the laboratory instead. Jayce was stood with them, pausing his talk as he watched Caitlyn enter in almost a mad manner. He looked defeated, as did Vander and her mother. 

Something wasn’t right. Caitlyn slowly caught up to what was missing. 

The colour of vivid blue. 

“Cait, I’m so sorry.” 

A ghost of a breath left her at his words. The lack of flickering light hit her like thunder. Her knees almost gave in, only for strong arms to catch her, something she’d known before but wasn’t the same. Vander’s arms did not feel the same as Vi’s. Weren’t as loving, as tattooed, as home. 

“Caitlyn, dear, you need to breathe.” Her mom’s voice didn’t quite reach her ears as her world began to spin. 

“What is going on?” She said, slightly above a whisper. 

“We concluded it’s best to put a stop to the procedure.” Caitlyn blinked at Jayce, knitting her brows from the audacity of giving up. He reflected her grief, yet was composed in his explanation. “Cait, we’re only destroying her further if we were to continue. It was her family’s decision, so that her body will stay intact for the funeral.” 

His last word sounded so near repulsive, she physically had to force down the rope of heartache forming within her chest. There was no way she’d find herself in front of a coffin sometime soon. To have the love of her life on open display to a crowd dressed in black. 

Caitlyn eyed Vander, who reluctantly let go of her, his face twisted into a sorry expression. She knew she had no right to go against Vi’s family. To combat Vander and Powder’s wishes, even if she so badly wanted to. But she’d always been thorough, persistent in her beliefs and overly meticulous, and if this last resort were to shred her dignity, she’d gladly let it if it meant she had done everything at her disposal to save Vi. 

“Let me use this on her,” Caitlyn pleaded, holding up the vial. “You can shut everything off if it doesn’t work, but grant me this one last request. Please.” 

Vander– the only Zaunite currently in the room, who knew the horrors of Shimmer better than anyone, watched it consume and destroy his city– eyed her cautiously, and Caitlyn spotted the distinct clash of morality within him. But just like Caitlyn herself, Vander abandoned his virtues in order for love, and nodded firmly, giving Caitlyn the go ahead. 

With that, Caitlyn rushed inside the procedure room, meeting Ekko and Powder silently by Vi’s side. Powder, who’d been hunched over Vi’s capsule, looked up at her entrance. 

“Caitlyn?” The couple made space for her as she slotted in between them, hand on the capsule’s handle. Powder gave her a dubious look, tears collected in the creases of her eyes, then slackened when she saw the Shimmer. “What are you doing?” 

“Whatever I can,” Caitlyn stated, simple as that. “Is that alright with you two?” 

The Zaunite teenagers exchanged a brief glimpse, then nodded. Ekko hurried toward the control panel, pulling at levers and pressing buttons. At one specific press, the capsule ejected open, revealing Vi to fresh air. 

Caitlyn absentmindedly swiped away dark stains from the corner of her lips, feeling rigid skin beneath her touch, almost making her flinch when she’d expected Vi’s usual heat. She seemed pained, as if the harsh treatment was felt beyond her comatose.  

“It’ll be alright,” Caitlyn whispered to her, leaving a soft kiss atop her scarred rosy bow. “You’ve fought well. But if rest is what you need, then–” 

The words got stuck in her throat, moisture daring to slide down her cheeks. Right before her, Vi’s broken and beaten body lay still, and the idea of death seemed like more of a mercy with each second that went by. Perhaps it was selfish– pure and utter self-centred greed that Caitlyn couldn’t let go of. But she had to try. She would never forgive herself if she didn’t. 

As if Powder could read Caitlyn’s tangled mind, she placed her hand firmly on her own, giving Caitlyn a reassuring squeeze. They needn’t words. Together, they popped the cap from the vial and reached up for Vi’s mouth, angling the liquid just so that it dripped past her parted lips. Caitlyn closed her mouth, dipping Vi’s head by a thumb on her chin to let the drug travel through her. 

Crackling lightening conjured from the blue spots on Vi’s back, untamed and lashing out at anyone or anything in its proximity. Both Powder and her startled backwards from the bright purple, gawking in anticipation as Vi’s frozen body whirled back to life. 

“Guys,” Ekko called out, his tone stirred yet cautious. “Energy levels are rising again. She’s back on track!” 

Powder let out a keening yelp and jumped on Caitlyn in an impractical mishmash of a hug, practically wringing the flesh from her tall figure. “Legs, you absolute brilliant menace!”  

“We still have to finish the program,” Ekko warned tentatively. “But with the Shimmer in her system, I think her body has a better shot at withstanding the Arcane’s power.” 

Caitlyn released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Her plan worked. At least, so far as they could tell. A step closer though, Caitlyn could find a speck of solace in that. She lowered Powder back on her feet. 

“She’ll make it?” Caitlyn asked softly. 

“She’s strong.” Ekko shot her a small smile. “If anyone would be able to beat the Arcane, it’s Vi.” He motioned for Powder to shut the capsule’s lid. “Now, for your own safety, I suggest you leave the room. And get Jayce back in here, will you?”

Long, dreadful hours passed. 

Caitlyn had idled on top of a workbench, hands intertwined with her mother’s as they couldn’t do much other than wait for the procedure to finish. 

She’d asked her mom if there wasn’t any council business to attend. After all, it was still a mandatory workday for her. But the Kiramman matriarch had firmly shaken her head. “The councillors can wait,” she had said, sporting a sly smile. “There are more urgent priorities than the council.” 

Caitlyn was grateful, a pool of endearment spread over her. She’d missed this. Missed her. Though, her mother did mention some business she had wanted to discuss. Something as of recent that tickled her mind, but told Caitlyn it would be taken care of soon and that it, too, could wait. Caitlyn hadn’t pried further. She was just glad her mother stayed. 

A near combustion of relief fled her lungs when Jayce had left the secured vicinity, a big grin on his greasy face as he approached the two Kiramman women. “It’s done. It might take a while for her to wake up, but after some monitoring we concluded the operation a success.” 

Caitlyn had hurled herself into his arms, muttering praises of thanks and emotion against his sweat sheened skin. They’d hugged until a smug Powder walked in and parted them by making queasy comments. Though her teary eyes told Caitlyn otherwise. The room was elated, everyone congratulating each other. After their exchanges of respite, Ekko and Jayce had carefully placed Vi back on the makeshift bed, and rolled her so that her bedside was next to the window, letting the remaining sunlight of the day caress her face. 

Vi remained cold and pale, still Caitlyn couldn’t help but think she looked ethereal like this; basking in the orange glow, releasing faint breaths, her chest rising softly. 

Caitlyn had spent the rest of the afternoon hours beside Vi, clutching her hand and refusing to let go. Jayce had taken his leave along with her mother, who had a sense of mischief around her when she’d ushered him to follow her, not mentioning where they would go or what they would do. Then, Vander had taken Powder and Ekko to grab dinner. He’d invited Caitlyn as well, but she politely declined, offering to stay behind and watch over Vi while she rested. 

“We’ll be right back, Legs!” Powder had screeched, waving excessively at Caitlyn. There was a friendship to be found among their initial shaky bond. Something Caitlyn could never have guessed upon first meeting the lanky young girl whom she swore would rip the hair from her roots if deemed necessary. But they had found common ground in the shape of the single most incredible person in their respective lives. 

Caitlyn traced her fingers through Vi’s strands, cradling the back of her head whenever she’d arrive. Her wispy exhales sounded like the most beautiful of compositions to Caitlyn, the longing for Vi’s recovery obtained. Here she lay, beautiful and wistfully unaware of how much Caitlyn desired for her to awaken. 

A self-indulgent signal coursed through her, the sudden need to be impossibly closer to Vi. The small bed and labyrinth of wires exuded the difficulty of doing this, but after some careful manoeuvring and tucking of long legs, Caitlyn had managed to lay down beside her, head resting on Vi’s heaving chest. 

Just listening to her evidence of being alive was enough for Caitlyn. She nestled further into her lover, leisurely playing with her nasal cannula while awaiting her consciousness. Vander and her had cleaned the maroon smudges on her face, and if Caitlyn wasn’t entirely mistaken, there had been residues of cries loitering on her cheek as well. Caitlyn had gently wiped it all away as if she was able to remove any of Vi’s hurt, then kissed those blemishes, like presses of promises. 

“I love you so much,” she uttered in the crook of Vi’s clavicle, taking in her strong, soothing scent. “I cannot believe you made it out. I’ve been all over the place about you. God, I feel like I should marry you when all of this is over.” 

There were a few beats of silence, in which Caitlyn simply relished Vi’s presence, then, 

“Not beating the stereotype, are you?” 

Her voice was crooked, a mere shadow of what her tone typically sounded like. But it was her. 

“Vi?!” Caitlyn jumped, temporarily forgetting her current location in bed and knocking her knees against Vi’s ribs. Vi sucked in a wheeze. “Fuck, sorry.” 

“’S aight.” Vi rubbed the sore spot. Meanwhile, Caitlyn just couldn’t resist the urge, and kissed Vi, bumping the respiratory support with her own nose. Vi hummed against her lips, trailing her safe hands over Caitlyn’s sides. Oh, how Caitlyn had missed the feeling of those. “Let’s wait another year or so, yeah? Then you can start organizing stuff and order white doves or whatever.” 

“No take-backs,” Caitlyn snickered against Vi’s mouth, parting from her to get a good look at her. There was clear fatigue in her eyes, her cheeks a bit hollow and sagged, but still as if she traversed right from out many of Caitlyn’s dreams. “You’re alright...” Tears streamed down her face, no longer able to be held captive. “You’re alright.” 

“Yeah, Cupcake, I’m alright. I’m here.” Vi shushed her, raking through midnight locks just how Caitlyn had done for her before. They laid in simple peace, fully grasping the moment for their own. Vi kissed the top of her head, murmuring sweet nothings to each of Caitlyn’s low sniffles. 

Eventually, she managed to calm down, now purring in Vi’s arms. The blanketed table beneath them remained uncomfortable as ever, and Caitlyn shifted in place, trying to huddle closer to Vi and avoid any of her support cables at the same time. 

“That was smart, by the way,” Vi said to break the silence. “Thinking of the Shimmer.” 

“You were conscious for that?” 

“Barely.” Vi chuckled lowly. “It felt like I was floating through space, hearing all of your voices in the background, but unable to react or move.” 

Caitlyn chewed on her lip. What Vi just admitted could only mean– “You felt everything, too?” 

Vi’s face fell into a rueful expression. “Yeah. It– It wasn’t nice.” 

Caitlyn was about to apologize for causing her pain, something she most definitely did not have any power over, even if she was the one to give Vi that dose of purple poison. Vi seemed to notice her self-inflicted torment. 

“It’s not your fault, Cait. You saved me.” 

Caitlyn shook her head, burying her face right above where platinum met Vi’s biological body. “No, it was your sister, Jayce and Ekko. Not me.” 

“You were the one who came up with the Shimmer. You deducted that the Shimmer’s regeneration ability would be able to battle the Arcane.” Vi grabbed her by her face, lifting it so that Caitlyn could stare up in those mesmerising stormy orbs. Grey darted over her, her lips quirking up into that telltale smirk. “You saved me, Cupcake. I owe you my life.” 

“You do not need to owe me anything. Being here is enough.” 

Vi captured her in a kiss, deep and purposeful, yet oh so gentle and loving. All Caitlyn could do was let herself drift away under her girlfriend’s warmth. A heavy weight lifted from off her chest, easing the rapid beats of her heart. 

Vi softly detached their lips, grinning down at her. “Breaching the law for you own personal intentions. Very suiting of you, Sheriff.” 

Caitlyn scoffed playfully. “Well, if they want to discharge me from my duty, then at least I still have a lovely girlfriend at home.” 

Vi hummed, resting her head down, before she spoke up again. “You’ve changed a lot, you know? When I first met you, you were so unwavering, insistently abiding to the law. And here you are now; Stealing from Piltover’s archives.” 

“I suppose not everything’s black and grey. I can see that now.” She looked up at Vi, who cranked one eye open to look back. “ You made me see that.” 

Vi didn’t answer. And she didn’t need to. Caitlyn could tell, after all, that they were both eternally grateful for one another.

Caitlyn had found herself back in the council room, after many, many years. 

Though, this time she wasn’t a little child by her father’s side, there in the crowd, but was positioned next to the councillor table, badge conspicuously on her belt. After some lacklustre discussion, and the Enforcer precinct’s insistence on having Caitlyn remain as Sheriff, her position had been secured. She straightened herself, priding herself after bringing forth the respondent. 

Today had been the day. The grand re-opening of Jayce Talis’ case. Something Caitlyn had longed for since her teenage years.  

And what a day it was. 

Her mother led the trial, resolute in her speech and judgement of Jayce’s premature release. The other councillors had intensively listened to the week-old occurrence of Vi’s recovery at the hands of the previously convicted man himself. The Kiramman matriarch had spurred the decision of his freedom on by claiming he’d remedied his past mistakes by providing a future. A future for Vi, whom he had harmed before. 

The councillors had swapped glances, some small nods, then spotlights hit each of their seats, concluding the trial. 

Jayce Talis was a free man again. 

Caitlyn nearly cried, until Vi had characteristically applauded loudly, interrupting the otherwise professional quietude of the room. Caitlyn had gingerly lowered her girlfriend’s arms, but smiled regardless at Vi’s silly mishap. 

“It’s not my fault Pilties are too snobbish to clap.” 

Even so, Vi had hugged Jayce when he’d ran off the podium to approach the two women. Then he had taken Caitlyn in his arms, lifting her up and swirling her around as if they were a decade younger in age again– just a young girl and her older brother.  

Some council members passed by and congratulated him, and Heimerdinger had even offered Jayce a job at the Tower’s research department, admitting he had been a great fan of his work all along. Essentially, Jayce had eagerly accepted. 

All seemed well, until Cassandra Kiramman had walked over, making Vi audibly gulp beside her. That’s right; Her mother had demanded some one-on-one time with Caitlyn’s girlfriend. But after a chaotic week of preparing for Jayce’s tribunal, and Vi’s recovery period, Cassandra hadn’t had the opportunity yet to meet Vi properly. Caitlyn supposed now was the time. 

“My dear, can I steal Violet for the day?” 

Her mother assumed a flawless posture but her facial features were kind, relaxed even. Vi however, seemed anything but relaxed. She squirmed next to Caitlyn, dreading the typical ‘meeting the parents’ milestone of their relationship. In a spur of teasing demeanour, Caitlyn had simply accepted her mother’s request in place for Vi, which Vi struggled against with a pleading look in her puppy eyes. 

But when Vi had come home from her dinner with the Kiramman matriarch, she’d been in very uplifted spirits, making Caitlyn’s heart flutter at the knowledge of her mom and her girlfriend getting along. 

“She’s intense as fuck. But damn, that woman knows what she wants. I can’t not have respect for her.” Vi plopped down on the couch, encouraging Caitlyn to swing her legs over her lap by pulling at Caitlyn’s pyjama shorts. She complied, of course, and Vi scooted close to her. “I must say though, she has surprisingly good humour. Guess the apple does fall far from the tree.” 

Caitlyn had slapped her at that, making Vi pinch her ass back in return, which evidently resulted in a heavy grinding session where Caitlyn sought relief on her girlfriend’s muscular thigh. She’d keened out, high-pitched and feminine in the way she knew Vi adored, but quickly got shut up when Powder walked in, witnessing what lesbian-activities they had partaken in. 

“Oh dear fucking Janna.” Powder had cursed, holding a hand up in front of her eyes. “Not here! Not on my couch!” 

So, after some skimming, Caitlyn and Vi had purchased a nice, little home, just by the bridge dividing Zaun and Piltover. Close to Vi’s family, and a mere crossing away from the Enforcer’s building. Out of courtesy from the Kirammans– and their vast riches– their apartment had been fully paid for, so that Caitlyn and Vi only needed to buy the belonging furniture. Which Caitlyn had also taken full responsibility of, seeing how she was very peculiar with her home decor. Vi had learned not to mingle with Caitlyn’s fixations– not the pots and pans, and certainly not the paints for the walls, because “Really, Vi. Blue does not go well with that sandstone couch I have my eye on.” 

Now Vi’s place was filled with tints of soft browns and suave oranges, but she did not mind one bit. Caitlyn had looked thoroughly pleased with their interior, and if Cait was happy then Vi was happy, too. 

On one evening, after chugging down their habitual takeout dinner, Vi had cheekily announced a gift for her girlfriend. She retrieved a small box from a pocket of her cargo pants. Caitlyn raised a suspicious but disapproving brow. 

“That better not be a ring, Violet. I’ll have you know; I want to be the one proposing, and you told me not to do it for another year, so I stayed put so far–” 

Vi expertly cut off her rambling with a quick kiss, instantaneously colouring Caitlyn’s cheeks pink. 

“Don’t worry, it’s not. Just open it before you start yapping again.” 

Caitlyn grumbled, condemning Vi’s accusatory usage of ‘yapping’. Vi adoringly watched her unwrap the gift, grinning widely when Caitlyn sharply inhaled upon the revealed content. 

“How on Earth did you manage to find this?” 

There, in the palm of her girlfriend, lay an heirloom. The Kiramman’s ancestral pocket watch, lathered in slightly faded gold but fairly intact still. Its edges and ridges were jagged, a product of being tossed from several floors high, but Vi thought she’d done a stellar job at brushing it back to orderly state. 

“Took me a few bushes, but it was sunny outside, so I spotted it glinting in the dirt.” Caitlyn remained in awe, rotating the trinket in her hand to take a better look at each side. “Brought it to Ekko. He fixed the clock, so it should work again. I repainted whatever else was tattered.” 

Caitlyn marvelled, clutching the heirloom to her heart. “Oh, Vi. This is absolutely wonderful. I love it.” 

“Thought it was fitting. Since you don’t have to worry about time anymore.” Vi shrugged, then sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck. “I noticed you fidgeted a lot with it whenever you felt anxious. And I assumed it was because the watch reminded you of all your pain and regret from over the years. I know you threw it away for a reason, but I hoped you might want it back? Dunno if I overstepped there.” 

Caitlyn relaxed her stance, a small smile creeping onto her face to let Vi know that it was alright. More than, even. She had indeed once claimed time to be an absurd and cruel joke, given that her time with Vi was on the verge of expiring. Every bad thing in her life had been bundled up and taken form of the pocket watch, a constant reminder and silent pledge to herself to never forget what she’d gone through. To never let go of those experiences and sculpt herself into a statue of ice for her own protection. 

But Vi had tenderly melted her. Reshaped her anew, reminding her of all the good life had to offer. And slowly she had warmed again, forging a path together with a true love she had never dared to imagine finding. 

“You did not,” Caitlyn reassured her, wrapping herself around Vi. “This is perfect. You are perfect.” 

Their storm had finally wavered, clearing the once turbulent skies above. Grey and blue met, and they both understood what they had found in each other– in any universe or timeline. 

A love unshaken by time’s tide.