Honor thy mother
Office of Finn Hunt, the Day of Caitlyn’s welcome home party
“This fucking psycho put two of my men in the hospital,” exclaimed Finn aggressively as he spoke with the two detectives. Having described every detail—the hood, the arrows, the demands—and, most importantly, the threat, which sounded more and more like a promise to him.
Vi sighed. It had been just over two years since she became a detective. She still couldn’t believe she had let Caitlyn convince her in high school that they would join the force together and make a real difference. Don’t get her wrong; she had found her own love and passion for the job, but now...
Now every case felt like a step back. Her Captain, Marcus, forbade her from pursuing anything related to organized crime in Zaun, handing it over to Major Crimes most of the time. It frustrated her incessantly, mainly because the only real case she had worked was the jewelry store. She knew Zaun like the back of her hand.
If she could work any of those cases, she was positive she could have the scumbags locked up by month's end. But instead, she had to work a case for some prick who sent half the people from her neighborhood to the streets.
“Look, we’ll put out an APB on Robina Hood—” Vi said, her tone dry and almost humorous before being cut off.
“You think this is funny? This bitch is trying to extort me!” Finn exclaimed, his face getting redder by the second.
Vi resisted the urge to clock him. ‘Extort you’? That was rich coming from him. She felt the anger boil up in her as she prepared to punch him in the face.
“Look, we’ll hang around here tonight to help you secure the place, alright?” Loris interjected, defusing the situation as he felt Vi’s anger radiating. “Call us if you remember anything else about this hood person,” Loris finished before leaving with Vi.
“Can’t fucking believe we have to protect that guy,” Vi said aggressively as they got into the elevator. “It’s bullshit. You and I both know what that scumbag does, and now we’re supposed to what? Serve and protect him?”
“Vi, we’re here to serve and protect in general. That unfortunately does include him. Don’t get me wrong, I hate the guy as much as you do. He's the reason my boyfriend got evicted, but it’s our job,” Loris said.
He sighed. He’d been on the force much longer than Vi and had taken her under his wing. She was a smart kid, and he knew from the moment he met her that she would do real good on the force. But Vi also had a tendency to listen to her heart before her head. It was her greatest strength and weakness and also why he made it his mission to keep her out of trouble on the force. After all, she couldn’t help people if she was constantly suspended.
“Well, you know what—” Vi began a most likely vulgar and aggressive retort before recentering. “Actually, no. Just because I have to protect that fuck doesn’t mean I have to take it out on you,” she said, a faux smile growing on her face as the elevator dinged on the ground floor and they made their way through the lobby.
Loris looked at her in mock disbelief. “Vi being nice? Can’t be. Who are you and where have you taken her?” Loris responded humorously as they made their way to Vi’s car.
“Vi was taken to Big Belly Burgers because she is starving, and it is lunch in... now,” she replied smugly, glancing at her watch as it struck twelve.
“Ugh, seriously? The food at that place is like ninety percent grease,” Loris replied, his face a friendly mix of disappointment and disgust at his partner's eating habits.
“Don’t give me that look. I’ve had a stressful week, and Jericho always gives me extra fries when we go there, so...” Vi responded lightheartedly.
Loris groaned. “Fine, we’ll go get your stupid heart attack food,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why do I even let myself get talked into this?”
“Because I have a sunny personality,” Vi replied, getting in the driver’s seat and making her way without delay toward Jericho's Big Belly Burger franchise.
The Last drop, late afternoon
Vi strolled into the bar—her childhood home—looking troubled, as if she had been mulling over something for hours but still couldn’t find the answer she wanted. She still had a few hours left before scumbag babysitting duty, so she decided to seek help from the one person she always could.
Vander.
“Hey, kid, why don’t you pull up a stool and tell me what’s bothering you?” Vander said, serving the few customers scattered around the bar. The evening crowd would be shuffling in soon. The Last Drop was an institution in the Lanes—whether you were looking for a drink, some good advice, or just a place to forget about your shitty day, the doors were always open. As long as you showed respect, you were welcome.
“Didn’t say anything was bothering me,” Vi replied smugly, placing her coat on the stool’s backrest before sitting down at the counter. Vander shot her a knowing look from across the bar as he walked over.
“Didn’t need you to. Father’s instinct,” he replied, pulling out the good whiskey and pouring two glasses—one for himself and one for Vi—before sliding hers across the counter.
Vi sat in silence, staring at the amber liquid in her glass, while Vander took a sip of his, waiting for her to inevitably spill whatever was on her mind. He already had a pretty good guess, but he knew Vi needed time.
“Cait’s back,” Vi stated. It was redundant—everyone was talking about the playgirl Kiramman heiress rising from the dead. She wanted to hate Caitlyn with everything in her, to hate her for the pain and suffering she had caused, to wish she had stayed dead.
But she didn’t.
She wasn’t over the moon about her return, either. Her feelings were messy, and that was the last thing she needed right now.
“I know. Hard to miss that sort of thing. Did you two talk?” Vander asked, taking another sip of whiskey as he watched his daughter brood over hers.
“She came by the precinct a few days ago. We went for a walk, we talked, she said sorry and a bunch of other stuff. I wasn’t having it, so I told her I didn’t want to see her again.” Vi exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “And now I’m starting to regret it.”
Vander wiped down the bar as he listened. “And why are you regretting it?”
“Because on some level… I think I still love her. I don’t think I ever stopped.”
Vi stared blankly ahead. She had thought Caitlyn was a wound long healed—buried, never to return. But now she realized she had never really healed at all. Caitlyn’s return had torn the wound open again. She didn’t know whether she wanted to rip her heart out and make her hurt the way she had or pull her into a kiss and start over.
“What do I do?” Vi muttered, swirling the whiskey in her glass before taking another sip. “ I know I shouldn’t have left things the way I did, but does she deserve another chance? God, everything’s a mess.”
“We have so many years between us—it feels wrong to just throw her away like trash, but…” Vi trailed off, giving Vander a pleading look, searching for answers in his eyes.
Vander held her gaze. “Look, I can’t give you that answer. I can’t tell you if you should talk to her. But I can tell you this—whatever you decide, do it for yourself.If you’re gonna cast her aside, do it because you’ve moved on to something better, not out of spite.” He took another sip before reaching across the counter to squeeze Vi’s hand.
“And if you decide to let her back in… make sure it’s because you see your life being better with her in it, not because you feel guilty about telling her off.”
Vi stared into her glass, then back at Vander. The fog in her mind cleared. He was right. She needed to think about what she wanted, not what Caitlyn deserved.
“Thanks, old man,” Vi said, lunging across the counter to hug him, the familiar warmth of Vander washing over her.
“Anytime, kid,” he murmured before she pulled back, grabbing her coat and preparing to leave.
“Wanna stay for dinner? Mylo’s cooking tonight—he’s making chili,” Vander offered.
“Wish I could, but duty calls.” Vi smirked, shrugging on her coat before heading for the door. She gave Vander a two-fingered salute before stepping out into the evening breeze, the door clicking shut behind her.
Zaun, Caitlyn’s welcome home party.
“What the hell is going on down there?” Finn questioned angrily as he observed the large atrium building across the street, the sounds of loud music and flashing lights reaching all the way up to his floor.
“Some rich kid’s welcome home party or something,” his security chief Deckard replied, gun at the ready as Finn and his men waited for the hooded archer to return and make good on her threat.
“Boss, it’s gonna be fine. No way the bitch is dumb enough to take on an entire building’s worth of highly trained security and cops with just a bow and arrow,” Deckard stated, trying to calm his boss's nerves.
“Try telling me that again when you've got your life or forty million on the line,” Finn replied nervously, taking a sip of brandy as he observed the ruckus downstairs.
Caitlyn stared at her phone. It was nearly nine and no transfer had been made. She had hoped her stunt in the parking garage would have worked and she could’ve done this the easy way. But she knew this was inevitable—that Finn couldn’t be reasoned with, and that men like him had to be dealt with swiftly and without remorse. Luckily for her, she was already across the street, having found time between building her lair to scout party venues with Mel, choosing this one specifically for its proximity to Finn’s offices.
Checking her dress one more time, she made her way to the central area where the party was raging on. A surprising sight to behold was Viktor—usually calm and collected—doing shots and dancing like there was no tomorrow.
“Sprout!” Jayce yelled, barreling into her and pulling her into a hug.
“I see the party is in full swing,” Caitlyn remarked, spotting Mel with what she assumed were CNRI colleagues, doing jello shots and hanging near the DJ station.
“Full swing? It’s just getting started. C’mon, I need to show you something,” Jayce said, pulling Caitlyn through the crowd toward a raised platform where three stunning women were dancing.
“Now, by my estimate, you haven’t had sex in approximately 1,839 days. As your wingman, I highly recommend Carmen Golden,” Jayce said as they looked up at the trio.
“Which one is she?” Caitlyn asked, glancing at the three girls dancing to a Seraphine song. By all rights, this was what she should have been looking forward to tonight: a loud party, tons of alcohol, and pretty girls. But instead, all she could think about was getting justice for the people of Zaun and giving Finn what he deserved.
“She looks like the girl from Twilight,” Jayce replied, pointing to the brunette in the center.
“What is Twilight?” Caitlyn asked, confused.
“I so wish I didn’t know,” Jayce replied, grabbing a drink from a passing waitress.
Caitlyn knew she needed to make her exit soon, but that would be easier said than done—there were dozens of eyes on her, countless guests trying to make acquaintances. Soon, people were asking her to say a few words as the woman of the hour. It would be impolite to refuse, so she resolved to give a quick speech, then slip away to deal with Finn.
Grabbing a shot before climbing up the staircase to the DJ stand, she signaled for the DJ to cut the music before taking the mic.
“Thank you for coming, everyone,” Caitlyn began. “I'm glad so many of you could be here tonight. I’m so happy to be back among the living.”
“I missed a lot of things on the island, but I missed tequila the most,” she yelled into the mic before taking the shot and climbing down the stairs. It felt good to play the party girl again—but now it was time to do what she came here for.
“Woo-hoo! There’s the Caitlyn I know and love!” Jayce shouted as she rejoined him.
“Shoot, I think I ate something bad earlier,” Caitlyn said, gripping her stomach and faking indigestion.
“Be right back,” she added before slipping away from the party to change. She pulled on the hood, grabbed her bow and quiver, and made her way to the rooftop. Checking her phone one last time, she sighed and grabbed a grappling arrow, nocking it in her bow before taking aim at the concrete building across the street.
With a crack, the arrow embedded itself into the wall. The Archer zipped across from the party venue toward the building. Breaking through a glass window, she moved methodically through the floors until she reached the elevator.
Taking it up toward Finn’s office, the Archer waited, planning every move. The corridor leading from the elevator would undoubtedly be lined with Finn’s goons—all well-armed.
Having spent years honing her survival skills, the Archer’s eyes were well attuned to fighting in the dark. She knew none of Finn’s men could match her.
Preparing an EMP arrow, she waited. As soon as the elevator dinged, she scooted to the side, the wide walls giving her ample concealment. She fired off the EMP arrow—a loud crack was heard before the lights shut off.
The goons, scared and confused, fired their carbines wildly into the elevator, hitting nothing. The Archer waited for the sound she knew would come.
Click. Click. Click.
As their magazines emptied and rattled to the floor, the Archer moved. She nocked her first arrow and fired—one man down. Another arrow—another fell.
Then she heard the last two reload. Instinctively, she moved behind one of the pretentious clay statues lining the hallway. Bullets tore into the sculpture as she ducked low, assessing the angle of fire—they were aiming for the head.
She nocked another arrow, firing into one man’s knee before finishing him with a shot to the chest. Surging forward, she sent her fist into the last goon's face with a sickening crack.
Inside the office just beyond the corridor, Finn waited with bated breath. Either his men had gunned down the archer, or he was in for a world of pain. He waited, anticipating—hoping they’d come through dragging the Archer’s body.
Then—
Crash!
A body slammed through the glass doors of his office, startling Finn and his men. Finn ducked behind his desk as the others opened fire, unloading bullets into the body.
As he peeked up from behind his desk, he realized—it wasn’t the Archer. It was one of his own men.
Before anyone could comprehend what was happening, an arrow flew through the broken glass door, skewering one man. The Archer burst through, beating another to the ground.
Nocking another arrow, she fired at the wall behind Finn’s desk—right into the hidden servers and digital records.
Finn stepped around his desk, facing the Archer as she nocked an arrow straight to his chest.
“You missed,” he said smugly, paying homage to her words.
“Really?” the Archer replied coolly.
Before she could react, Deckard—who had stayed out of sight—emerged and punched her square in the face.
The Archer blocked, her arrow falling from her bow as Deckard pressed the attack, knocking the bow from her hand. The fight became a brutal brawl.
In the chaos, Finn slipped away down the corridor, pulling out the radio the police had given him.
“She’s here,” he said into the receiver.
Downstairs in the lobby, Vi and Loris both sporting nothing but their simple police sweats and vests sprang into action the moment they heard Finn’s voice over the police frequency.
“All units, converge!” Loris barked as Piltover PD SWAT and beat cops began rushing up the stairwell toward Finn’s office.
Meanwhile, in the office, Deckard and the Archer were still locked in combat. Deckard used his brute strength to slam her against the wall. He grinned as he pulled back her hood.
“The fuck… it’s you.” He stared for a moment, then laughed. “Look who’s about to die again.”
But before he could reach for a weapon, the Archer drove her knee into his stomach, staggering him. Before grabbing him and locking him into a headlock.
“Nobody can know my secret,” she whispered softly—almost apologetically—before snapping his neck, sending his body into a crumple on the floor.
“Piltover PD!” shouted a chorus of voices as Vi and at the head of the police forces burst into the corridor.
Pulling her hood back on and grabbing her bow, the Archer sprinted toward the window and leapt, catching the zipline just in time. She disappeared into the night, her silhouette sliding across the zipline as Vi and the police arrived too late—catching only a glimpse of the shadow vanishing into the building across the street.
South China Sea, Five years ago
For days, they drifted in the endless void of the ocean—Caitlyn clinging to Cassandra for warmth as the captain did his best to steer the boat in the direction he hoped would lead them to land.
As time went on, it seemed more and more hopeless. There was no chance all three of them would make it back alive—of that, Cassandra was certain. But Caitlyn… Caitlyn could survive. Cassandra knew she could. After all, she was a Kiramman—strong and iron-willed, just as any proper Kiramman lady should be.
Knowing time was running out, Cassandra resolved to ensure her daughter’s survival. The food and water were already dwindling. She needed to act fast. Taking out her notebook, she gently woke Caitlyn from her slumber.
“Caitlyn, listen carefully,” Cassandra said. Even in times like these, she carried herself with composure—elegant and unwavering.
“Mother?” Caitlyn replied, eyes fluttering open as she glanced up at her. Sorrow filled Cassandra’s eyes as she began to speak.
“I have failed. I failed to protect you, to protect our city, to do my duty. It has been my greatest regret. I cannot right my wrongs. I cannot save our city. ” Cassandra gulped, placing the notebook into Caitlyn’s hands. “ But you can.”
Before Caitlyn could process what was happening, Cassandra pulled out a revolver—the small, snub-nosed one she had always kept on her person for emergencies.
Caitlyn looked stunned for a moment as Cassandra took aim at the captain opposite them, firing a single shot into his forehead and sending him over the side of the rubber life raft.
Startled by the gunshot, Caitlyn jumped back. “Mother!” she cried. But before she could say anything more, Cassandra turned the gun to her own temple.
“Caitlyn, remember that I will always love you—and I will always believe in you, ” Cassandra said, her voice heavy with sorrow, regret, and a lifetime of unspoken emotion. “ Right my wrongs. Do what I could never do.”
“Save our city.”
Then, the sickening sound of the gun rang out, and Cassandra’s body crumpled onto the floor of the raft.
“Mother?” Caitlyn whispered, her voice low and trembling. She was in complete shock. She hadn’t yet processed what she had just witnessed—hadn’t understood the weight of her mother’s final words.
“Mother! Please—Mother, no. No, no, you can’t, you ca—” Caitlyn broke down, her head in her hands as the tears streamed down. In a matter of seconds, she was alone, drifting into an uncertain future—only the final words of her mother echoing in her mind:
“Save our city.”
Zaun, just after the archer’s attack on Finn’s office.
“Where is she? Where did she go?” Vi yelled as they rushed across the street into Caitlyn’s party. The police quickly dispersed, searching frantically for the hooded archer who had assailed Finn just minutes before.
Vi and Loris made their way through the crowd, scanning for any sign of their suspect. But they found no one—just drunk partygoers who stared at them in a daze as they made their way to the DJ stand and shut down the music.
“Vi?” Jayce asked as he rushed toward the DJ booth, confused by the sudden interruption.
Vi stared back, equally confused. “Jayce? What the hell are you doing here?”
“It’s Caitlyn’s welcome home party. What are you doing here?” Jayce replied, his expression concerned.
“Finn Hunt’s office just got attacked. The suspect is in here somewhere. She was apparently wearing a dark green hood and had a bow and arrow,” Vi said, stepping down from the stand so she was now eye-to-eye with Jayce.
“You’re shitting me, right?” Jayce blinked, eyebrows furrowed. Bow and arrow? What the hell was Vi even talking about?
“Look, we’ve got some sketchy people here, but I can give you a Talis guarantee—no one matching that description is in here,” Jayce said, his brows relaxing a little.
“Shit,” Vi cursed, crossing her arms as a scowl formed on her face. She grabbed her radio and spoke into it. “We lost ’em,” she said, sounding defeated.
“Sorry about this, Jayce. This town just keeps getting crazier,” she added, giving him an apologetic, exhausted look.
“Hey, it’s no problem,” Jayce replied, pulling Vi into a friendly hug. She sank into it with surprising comfort. “Wanna stay for a drink? You look like you’ve had a shit day.”
“I’m on the job, I prob—ah, what the hell. Sure. Show me what you’ve got, pretty boy,” Vi said with a smirk, deciding she deserved a break after the week she’d been having. She let Jayce lead her to the bar.
The bartender served their drinks—whiskey on the rocks for Vi, and a gin and tonic for Jayce—as the two caught up. Vi told Jayce everything: how she’d told Caitlyn off, how she felt about everything, and briefly apologized for being distant.
“Hey, I get it. It’s been a tough and strange week. But I just want you to know—me, Mel, Viktor—we’re always gonna be your friends. And just because Caitlyn’s back doesn’t mean we’re gonna abandon you for her,” Jayce said, his voice sincere. They’d become almost like family during Caitlyn’s absence, and there was no way in hell they were leaving Vi behind.
Jayce placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t be a stranger, okay? So… the usual tomorrow? Pizza and movies?” he asked, nudging her playfully.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there,” Vi replied, nudging him back as the bartender finally served their drinks.
The two took sips in silence for a few seconds before Caitlyn emerged.
“Jayce, I’m terribly sorry. I got cau—Vi?” Caitlyn’s words caught in her throat as she saw her. “Wh… Wh-What are you doing here?” she stuttered, staring at the woman she had hurt—the woman she still loved—who now looked painfully handsome in a bulletproof vest.
It had been nearly a week since Vi had told her she never wanted to see her again. Caitlyn hadn’t expected to see her again—at least, not truly. She thought Vi would ignore her, pretend she didn’t exist.
“On the job,” Vi said, pointing to her badge on her belt. Caitlyn’s heart fluttered. Vi seemed… different. Less angry. Time had dulled the sharpness in her tone, at least enough to be civil.
“Oh. Well… I suppose I’ll leave you to it,” Caitlyn said, glancing between Vi and Jayce. She didn’t want to intrude, didn’t want to push Vi more than she already had.
She turned to walk away—then felt a strong, calloused hand grab her wrist.
“Cait, wait,” Vi said, her voice trembling ever so slightly.
Caitlyn turned, Vi letting go as their eyes met. They stared at one another, the silence between them loud and electric. Caitlyn waited for the words, wondering if Vi was going to curse her out again. But then Vi opened her mouth.
“We need to talk.”
The words sent a cautious flicker of hope through Caitlyn’s chest. Maybe things weren’t as broken as she thought. Maybe she still had a chance to make things right.
She nodded slowly and gave Vi a knowing look as the two stepped away to find somewhere quieter. Jayce simply waved as he returned to the party.
They leaned on the railing, overlooking the slowly reviving party below. Neither spoke. Caitlyn was too afraid to; she knew Vi needed time to figure out what she wanted to say.
“Feels like déjà vu,” Vi finally muttered, eyes cast down to the crowd.
“How so?” Caitlyn replied, mirroring her posture.
“Our first college party. Jayce’s dumb frat house. When we kissed for the first time on his balcony under the moonlight,” Vi said, instantly jogging Caitlyn’s memory.
“How could I forget? That guy spilled his drink on my dress. You pulled me out there, kept trying to wipe off the stain… it was utterly foolish of you, but so very chivalrous,” Caitlyn replied, a wistful smile curling at her lips.
“And then you grabbed my hand, knelt down with me, and started laughing,” Vi added.
“I was so embarrassed. Thought you were laughing at me,” Vi admitted.
“Then you told me—” Vi began, slipping into a mock accent, “‘I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing at myself and how stupid I’ve been.’”
Caitlyn held her breath. She knew how the story ended, but she didn’t know where Vi was taking it.
“Then you grabbed my face and kissed me. God, I was seeing stars after that,” Vi said, still looking down.
“I’ve loved you for so long, I don’t think I could ever see my life without you,” she finished in that same fake accent.
Caitlyn waited. She braced herself for Vi to take it back—to say it was a mistake. But the next words weren’t what she expected.
“Look… after everything you did, I don’t know if I could ever love you like that again.” Vi finally looked at her.
“But I can’t see my life without you in it either, Cupcake. So I want to try—to be friends again. To rebuild us, not for you, but for me. Because whether or not we’re together, my life’s better with you in it.”
The words hung heavy between them.
Caitlyn felt torn. A part of her—the part filled with guilt—wanted to tell Vi to stay away. That she’d only hurt her again. That Vi deserved better.
But another part of her—the part that had missed Vi every single day—wanted to cling to this second chance, even if it was just as friends.
She finally broke the silence.
“How could I ever say no to you?”
Vi reached out and took Caitlyn’s hand. Her touch was warm and familiar.
And together, they stood quietly under the stars, watching the night pass—hand in hand.