To lose a sibling was more than losing a person. It was losing a constant, a piece of your soul. There was no replacing the hole, but over time, the pain of loss won’t be the first thing one thinks about in the morning.
Caitlyn had once heard Mel Medarda say something like it to someone in the council after the attack. Someone who had lost their sibling under the falling wreckage of the exploded building. The words seemed to echo in the empty med-bay, which seemed more full of corpses than healing bodies. Cait was surprised she even heard it, with her mother’s lifeless face still flashing before her eyes. She was such a difficult person, but losing her didn’t make anything easier.
She never had a sibling growing up, so she applied Mel’s statement to her mother. It wasn’t quite the same, but Mel hadn’t lost her mother yet. She didn’t know what it was like to lose a sibling.
But then Cait watched, with tainted, short vision, as Mel lost her mother to herself just as she had lost her brother to the same power. She watched as Vi crumpled defeatedly in her arms as Cait had once done to her. She watched her aunt cry as her father’s body was buried. She watched as Jayce changed from a face on a missing poster to a stone slab next to Viktor’s.
She watched the stone, adorned with gold and flowers and candles, as if it would change. As if the passing date would erase with her tears, and Jayce would come back and embrace her one last time. The scent of musk, coffee, and familiar body odor would wash over her after he came to tell her about his failures in the lab, whining about how she was so lucky to at least have a decent paying job. His stupid jokes and his constant teasing.
Vi’s hand on her shoulder kept her steady from clawing at the ground to hold a body that wasn’t there. It kept her steady as she let the tears fall on her cheek, almost invisible in the dark. She didn’t visit during the day; too many people came by, and left things for their hero.
It felt unfitting when people called him that. The nerdy researcher who spent days watching an orb instead of showering or partying like a normal person his age— a hero? The twenty-two year old who let sixteen year old Cait watch his borderline illegal research, who listened to her gossip about girls, who made her terrible sandwiches when they were both up at unhealthy hours? The twelve year old boy who told her six year old self which puddles were optimal to jump into after a storm, the seventeen year old who helped her with her stupid science homework when she cried over trends in the periodic table, the twenty year old who gave her first girlfriend the shovel talk? (The girl never came back, saying that she didn’t want to be used as her older brother’s prototype in his physics experiments. Cait didn’t get the chance to correct her on the brother comment, or that he studied chemical engineering and not physics.)
Cait turned to Vi, who looked as tired as she felt. The corner’s of Vi’s mouth turned up in a sort of grimace, mirroring the look on Cait’s own face. The right side of her face was less covered by her hair recently, and let the tear tracks on her face shine in the moonlight. Usually by this point every night, as they stood in the empty graveyard, Cait told her those stories of Jayce in her childhood, as Vi recognized the unspoken words. My brother. Vi spoke first this time, after they stared at each other for a few more moments. “You know, Jayce and I would’ve been quite the dynamic duo ourselves. With his brains and my brawn, I think game nights would be the best.”
Cait let herself smile a little at the picture that was painted in her mind. “Not for you, surely. It would be the best for me since I would win.” She thought of playing some stupid game of charades, watching Jayce’s stiff body try to mimic Professor Heimerdinger as Vi looked completely at a loss, guessing names of books instead of people since Jayce’s inability to act caused genres to be incomprehensible. Cait imagines that Mel and Viktor would be there too, glaring at each other as they usually do during the council meetings, but somehow being able to decipher every charade within seconds. She even imagines Vi’s sister there too, her blue hair being whipped around as she enthusiastically displays the given role. Vi told her once about how Powder never liked reading, but put on the best impressions when reading out loud.
Vi looks far away in thought, as if she were thinking of some alternate universe as well. Her hands fiddle at her sides, her teeth chewing on the left side of her lip. Caitlyn grabs her hand, as if to lead her back to reality. She likes to imagine her place by Vi’s side remains constant in all universes. “Let’s go back for the night. It’s going to get colder soon.” It wasn’t, since it was the middle of summer, but standing at her.. at Jayce’s grave for any longer wouldn’t change the fact that game nights didn’t even have the chance to become a reality.
Vi nods, and they both lead each other back home with their hands intertwined.
˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗
Caitlyn never told Vi that Jayce was more than just a mentor in her life explicitly. But Vi could recognize the glassy look in her eye as Cait’s fingers nearly crushed her hand every night while they stood in the grass. She knew the distant look in her eye when she stared at the flames burning in the ashen fireplace, or when she smelled coffee as they walked down the street. Vi knew she looked the same when she passed by small kids with braids and murals of blue. She felt the shaking of shoulders every night when Cait thought she was sleeping, the muffled sniffling and the sleepless turning. But they never need to talk about it. Having each other is enough.
Since Cait wasn’t part of the council, she spent more time focusing on her position as head of the enforcers. She told them to set up areas for those who need it, to provide them with food and necessities. She fixed her mistakes from when she first took the title, and gave all she could to show how much she cared.
Vi never had a place in the world before. The Lanes were never her home, though she was raised there. Her home felt like spray painted walls and bruises, but it wasn’t where she belonged. Prison was the second longest she ever stayed in one place, but the iron bars and days of beatings blurred together as she buried them in the back of her mind. The City of Progress was just a temporary place for her to stay while Cait first grieved her mother. Sweaty fighting rings and inky dye was a distraction, when bruises and metallic smell reminded her of her upbringing. But the nation of Piltover was now changing for the first time, with the undercity and topside finally uniting, and Vi still didn’t know where she belonged. She felt like a ghost, haunting the hallways of Cait’s inherited mansion, which felt too large to hold her shell.
Cait never made her feel unwelcomed; in fact, everytime she entered the room, Vi didn’t feel like she was going to collapse into herself. Sometimes they held each other, sometimes they talked, sometimes they just stared off together.
Lately, though, Cait’s been busy fiddling with the Kiramman key. She wouldn’t tell Vi what she was doing, and Vi wouldn’t push. In these long days as Cait was locked up or off at the relief settlements, Vi would walk down the streets with a few books in hand, and journey through the crowds and families. She was now a familiar face among the children, who lit up when they saw her outgrown hair and stiff stature. Smiling came easier, when the kids huddled around her as she read old tales in other worlds.
She hasn’t read since she was young; Vander made sure his children were educated, and she was certainly no exception. She even read outside of the lengthy textbooks, and consumed words faster than anyone. Powder never cared for reading, and preferred to fiddle with gadgets, saying that those mechanical textbooks Mylo reads are only because he’s not a natural like she is. Claggor never learned to read, but liked to be there when they all discussed topics of their findings. Ekko popped by sometimes, and followed Powder’s philosophy of “studying is just doubting your natural intelligence,” which they all knew was a defense that suggested that he didn’t know how to read either. Vi knew this was a pile of bullshit, since she caught a bunch of newspapers under his bed, talking about the newest inventors in Piltover. He always said he overheard Benzo talking about places they could ransack, but Vi knew it was because he kept his tabs on these things, and was even inspired by the insane things these people made with parts the kids had no access to.
As she read the words on the crinkled, yellowing pages, the kids giggled and gasped around her, and she felt like she was fifteen again, giving up on her anger at the world for a while to immerse herself in another one.
After a few chapters, Vi notices Caitlyn leaning up against a pole, watching the spectacle with a small smile. She never told Cait where she went off to, but suddenly she feels her cheeks dust pink like she’d been caught. She returns her attention to the pages after the brief moment, and concludes the short novel, standing up to leave. The kids tackle her with hugs and she laughs, feeling a tug in her gut as she remembers the last time scrawny arms circled her.
Living a life of loss doesn’t make it easier to become accustomed to it. It was a constant cycle of change.
As she walks down the now familiar cobblestone path, it feels weird to let the smile on her face linger as Caitlyn holds her hand. It feels weird to let herself feel happy, knowing that so many people in her life never got the chance to know the feeling. Cait squeezes her hand three times, which brings Vi to look into her eye. Cait’s small grin grew lighter, and her face softened, like she knew what Vi was thinking. She can practically hear Cait’s lilting voice curve around the words, “you can let yourself be happy, you know,” and she doesn’t need to hear her say it. Somewhere deep inside, she knows it’s true.
˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗
Caitlyn felt awful keeping things from Vi. The only time she ever kept something from her was her biggest regret in life. She tried to apologize everyday for pushing Vi away out of her misplaced anger, but Vi already insisted that Cait didn’t need to apologize. Everytime, she tells her that she understands the anger, and that the first time you try to let yourself wrestle it you usually fail. It feels like a punch in the gut when Cait remembers that Vi was only ten the first time she had to cope with loss, and that she had to watch it happen by someone in the same uniform Caitlyn used to wear.
Cait always nods, but still apologizes the next day again. Sometimes she cries and tells Vi that she shouldn’t forgive her, and sometimes she shuts down and stays silent for hours. Regardless, Vi never seems frustrated with the apologies. She forgives her each time, too stubborn for Cait to try and convince her to change her mind. Cait always listens. She donates and gives and cares. She changes the rules of the enforcers, changes the uniforms, changes what it means. From enforcers of the law to enforcers of peace.
This secret was kept from Vi for her own good. Cait didn’t want to tell her unless she was wrong, to give her hope on something that was far from being true. She wanted to gain evidence. Vi never asked questions, and trusted Caitlyn more than she deserved. Vi never lets her feel undeserving, and always tells her that “it’s because I love you. So either suck it up or deal with it. No other option, cupcake.” The pet name used to sound stupid, like a tease or a joke at Cait’s initial rudeness, but now it means more than any other title. “Head of the Enforcers,” and “Leader of House Kiramman” have nothing on “cupcake.”
But, recently, Cait had found exactly what she was looking for. She just didn’t know how she was going to tell Vi about it.
One morning, as summer started passing and the new trees started to turn gold and amber, Cait received a letter, and knew that she needed to tell Vi immediately. The pink-haired woman was splayed out like a star under their sheets, still sleeping even though the sun was beaming brightly through the window. Her hair had grown out to her waist, the black almost completely faded now. Cait watched as her chest rose and fell from the door, as her face scrunched up and she groaned when her eyes registered the sun burning through her eyelids. Cait couldn’t help but giggle as Vi took the fluffy duvet and shielded herself, walking towards the bed.
“Good morning, sunshine.”
“Ugh.” Vi’s voice is muffled, but the smile in her voice is evident.
Cait lets herself sink into the mattress, slowly lifting the sheets and lying down so she could see Vi face to face. Vi’s face lost its sharp edges in the months she’s stayed with Cait, softening up with the steady flow of food supply Cait maintains for her. Vi always laughs when Cait says she eats more than Jayce did as a teenager, and replies that she has to maintain her physique to protect Cait from the monsters that live under their bed, since Cait clings onto Vi so much when they sleep that she wouldn’t be able to untangle herself in time to even knock the thing on the head. A spatter of freckles has appeared with her time in the summer sun, and her face seems to have a permanent glow to it. Vi insists that it’s only because she’s there, and Cait always blushes and tells her to lovingly shut up.
She waves the white envelope between her fingers, the wax seal already broken off. “We’ve got mail.”
Vi’s permanently arched eyebrow lifts up in curiosity. “I think you mean you; the only person who would talk to me is Ekko, and he can literally fly here.”
“No; I mean we.” Cait hands Vi the envelope, watching with anticipation as Vi takes out the contents and analyzes them with confusion under her blanket fortress.
Vi’s eyebrows furrow, her eyes slowly trailing over the paper again. “What is this?”
Cait bit her lip as she replies, “A map. I spoke with a cartographer after I got news of a sighting.”
Vi’s eyes dart to Cait’s, so wide that she can see the gears turning. Her breath hitches as her voice quavers with hesitance, “...A sighting?”
Cait reaches into her back pocket to take out the architectural drawing she grabbed before coming into their bedroom. “I’ve been looking at the structure of the tower, and noticed that there was a tunnel to outside right here,” she points with her index finger to indicate to the exit, “And I noticed that it was exactly where… well, where your sister had fallen.”
Vi hasn’t moved, and her voice is quiet as she asks, “Are you saying that…?” She doesn’t finish her sentence, as if it was a birthday wish and saying it outloud made it untrue.
“Vi, I’m saying that I think she escaped that day. I think… I think that I know where she went.”
Vi’s expression was almost unreadable, but Cait knows how to read her. Her blue eyes start welling up with tears, flitting between the map and Cait’s face, as if to see if she was pranking her, even though she knows Cait would never do that. She pulls Cait in so fast that she knocks air out her chest as she hugs her. “...Unbeliveable,” She pulls out of their horizontal hug, unbothered by the awkward angle to look at Cait’s face, “Cait, you’re just unbelievable.”
Cait pulls her back in for another hug, and feels as Vi’s warm tears soak into her shirt as she blinks them out of her eyes. “We can leave whenever you’re ready. It’s about a few day’s travel from here, but I can try to make it faster.”
Vi lets out a breath almost like a laugh. “You’re unreal.” She pinches Cait’s arm, at which she yelps a little in surprise.
“I’m very much real, Vi. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
“Like the dirt under your nails, cupcake.”
˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗
As they walk through forests and camp out every night, Vi can’t help but think this is all a huge mistake. It almost seems too good to be true, like something out of a children’s novel, that her sister is alive after everything. It’s like one of those comic books that follow a procedural plot structure, and no one can die because everything has to remain perfect to continue.
It hurts her, though she can barely admit it, that she never came back after all these months. That, after she thought she had her family back, she didn’t stay to see it grow. Vi gets it, though. She doesn’t belong there either, in the place she’s called home for the past few months. If she got the chance, she would probably try to start again, too. To leave everyone she’s hurt thinking that it’s for the best. What her sister didn’t count on is the gaping chasm in her heart. When her fingers slipped away, she fell straight through the organ, piercing the hole so deep she created a tunnel and found an escape through it.
Caitlyn comes back with logs cradled in her arms to start a fire, arms steady but legs focused on not tripping over some stray stone hidden beneath the fallen leaves. Vi watches as she sets down the logs, dull splinters dusted across her sleeves.
The past few months have been a good look on her, Vi notices, not for the first time. Her jaw hasn’t been clenched as it has once been, her hair was more loose, and her shoulders were more relaxed. There hasn’t been a real threat in a while, she supposes. There wasn’t a need to remain tidy and precise anymore; Cait gave up the life of politics she inherited at her mother’s passing. She didn’t need to act all stiff and golden anymore, and could actually become more than her family name. It feels unfair, truly, that Vi’s been able to witness the truth of this woman, though Cait acts like it’s some sort of burden for Vi to see all the skeletons she hides.
Cait sits next to her on their blanket after she lights the fire with a spark with struggle, even though they still have some daylight since it’s not too far into the season. Vi can still see the slowly fading golden sun through the trees, something she’s gotten used to in the past few months. It’s slowly become one of her favourite colors; gold. She never saw much of it; she was too poor to see anything above silver apart from the illegal trades in The Last Drop and trinkets she used to steal from Topside. It was always something to envy with greed, something worth more than her life felt. Now, she knows that’s just bullshit. Gold isn’t material, but warmth and smiles and flowers and fresh air.
She likes to think her sister would agree too, but would prefer some rare sort of gemstone color better. Sometimes she can almost hear the bickering, the gold was for old rich women who didn’t want any fun colors anymore. If she could, she’d go down to the fissures herself and collect a trunk full of rainbow crystals just to look at.
It’s weird, she thinks, to fabricate memories like this in her mind when she didn’t grow up with her sister for half her life. She spent too much time rotting in a cell, only to escape and be trapped by her unwillingness to change her view of her sister. She only really knew Powder, and didn’t really take too much time to understand Jinx. She spent too much time wanting her sister back, only to realize she was already there; she was just older and stuck. Vi couldn’t help her in time, and she let her go too many times. She hopes she can learn this time.
Cait’s eye has been studying Vi’s face for a while; not out of worry, but like she was following her thoughts. Vi knows she was, and slides her pinky over Cait’s as a sign of acknowledgement at the understanding.
They sit like that, watching the warm gold fade into a softer, darker silver. The silence is never awkward; sitting together is enough.
Vi lets her thoughts wander, wondering what her sister will even come back with them. What does she even call her? She was Powder a long time ago, who got lost in Jinx’s shadow. But Jinx left when her sister did, and now she doesn’t have a name. Vi doesn’t even know if she’ll ever have the chance to know. What if her sister knows she’s coming and runs further? Deep down, Vi knows that’ll never happen. The place she’s staying is too close in proximity to Vi; her sister would’ve run further if she had no hope. It’s almost like she wants to be found, but Vi doesn’t let herself get too hopeful.
“We’ll find her, Violet,” Cait says, so softly it brushes Vi’s ears like a breeze. She squeezes her hand three times. I love you. Vi feels herself grin, letting herself bask in the silver light of the moon, knowing that her golden rays of warmth shoot from the woman next to her.
˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗
Growing up, Cait didn't know much about love. When she was five, she knew that her parents loved each other, that her aunt and uncle loved each other, that her parents loved her and she loved them. She didn’t know what love was, but she knew that you love your family and who you marry.
As she grew up, she learned that it wasn’t quite as easy. Her parents love each other, but they fight everyday. Her aunt and uncle loved each other when they got married, but her uncle left their house sometimes for a few days before returning. Her parents loved her, but her mom poked and prodded and her father scolded her to tears sometimes.
Loving your family isn’t something everyone had the privilege of having, she learned at seven when a blue bruised boy from her elementary school had to move away from his parents to live with his friend’s family. Loving who you marry isn’t something people had sometimes either, whether it be before the wedding or after years, she learned at thirteen when a crying girl from her secondary school had to move far away to get married at seventeen, and at fourteen when her aunt and uncle didn’t live in the same house anymore.
Love wasn’t just family and marriage though, which is something she learned as she got older, and continues to accept as she lives.
Growing up, Jayce practically lived at the Kiramman’s estate, since it was closer to the Academy than his mother’s place. The guest room down the hall from Cait’s was practically his since they started sponsoring his research when Cait was eleven. The seventeen year old boy was a born prodigy, her mother said almost everyday, and she was lucky to catch him before he had his big break. Of course, as Cait would find out when she was older, Jayce’s big break didn’t happen until six-years later after he nearly got expelled permanently.
She didn’t talk much to Jayce in the beginning, since he only really stayed after long days of lectures and labs. It was only until about six months later that she caught him trying to create a sandwich out of bread and an uncut block of cheese in the middle of a rainy night. She laughed and pushed him aside to fix his horrendous snack. He looks embarrassed, having an eleven-year-old make a sandwich successfully.
“For a student at the Academy, you sure don’t know how to make a sandwich. Your brain must be rotten.”
Jayce’s face was stricken with shock, like he didn’t expect her to speak. “Uh…”
“My parents say you’re smart. I don’t think you can ever fool me, Mr. Cheese Block.”
Jayce’s expression of disbelief was betrayed by the smirk on his face, “And what do you think you’re doing out here so late? Isn’t it way past your bedtime, princess?”
Cait rolled her eyes, amused with this strange boy who sometimes lived in her house. Sometimes people called her princess as a mockery, their prim voices laced with sharp disapproval that such a child should have a name as powerful as she did. But this boy said it as a tease, with a light tone that didn’t suggest brattiness, but intrigue and endearment instead. “I guess I’m hungry like you.”
The sound of pattering rain was parted with the sudden strike of lightning, and Jayce suddenly tackled her to the ground, Cait unable to react in time to the sudden change in the scene. “Are you okay?” Jayce asked breathily, as Cait was held in his arms in some sort of lengthened hug as he pulled away, not loosening his grip.
Cait wasn’t disturbed, but intrigued as he had been with her breaking her bedroom curfew. “Are you?”
Jayce looked like a wet puppy for a second, curling in himself, his brown skin dusting red in sudden embarrassment. “Sorry, I just get scared in storms.”
Cait quirks her eyebrow, tilting her head like a curious bird. “Why?”
Jayce analyzed her expression, trying to find some source of mockery. He lets out a laugh, shaky like his hands. “You’re a strange kid.”
“I know something that might help,” she got up and reached her hand out; not to pull him up off the ground, but to lead him. “Come on.” He takes her hand without hesitation.
The rain was pouring down almost violently, but Cait never cared about such a thing. Jayce squeezes her hand, like she might disappear into a puddle.
“Let’s dance.” She ran off, dragging him along, spinning in circles in the rain.
After a while, the fear in Jayce’s face disappeared when they kept spinning and jumping around on the cobblestone, seeming to focus more on Cait’s gleeful chirping than the lessening thunder. I’m not going anywhere.
The oncoming sickness and lecture from Cait’s parents was worth the bond that bloomed from that night.
˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗
The village they arrive in is something out of a storybook; nothing extremely fairytale-like, but much more lively than a storybook could replicate with words. The smell of breads and jams from the market fills the air, the village far enough that nothing from the war in Piltover affected it.
Next to her, Cait lets out a breath. “Well, here we are. I don’t know much more about the location, so I presume it’s simply up to us.”
Vi turns to her, her eyes sparkling fondly. “I’d have it no other way, Cupcake.”
Every streak of blue feels like a sign that Vi might have lost her chance. She continues through the streets with Cait by her side, and stops as she finds a blacksmith’s forge.
“This is it. I… I think this is where…” They stand there, not even moving the knock on the door. Vi can’t rip her eyes away from the door, like her world will shatter if her sister won’t be waiting on the other side.
It almost feels too soon to think they reached their final destination, even after days of travelling, but the wait felt infinite the second she caught movement of two blue buns set at the top of a young woman’s head, like a bear’s ears, popping out of the door, like she was about to ask what they needed her to help with, but her mouth didn’t even part to say anything, instead laying straight on her sister with an unreadable expression. Something that Vi might have been able to read on Powder, but not on Jinx. Something Vi doesn’t know the meaning of in the person her sister is now.
In a split second, her sister seems to disappear, and for a horrifying moment Vi worries that she ran away again. She squeezes her eyes shut, embracing for the strike of pain to whatever she’ll see when she cracks them open.
But then she feels lean arms wrap around her, and suddenly nothing she worried about matters anymore. The young woman embracing her like a child squeezes their teddy bear doesn’t need to be immediately understood or named; she’s Vi’s sister. There’s nothing Vi needs to know other than that. She’s not Power or Jinx, but someone in between, who emerged from the roots of both.
Vi doesn’t hesitate to squeeze tighter, to gather her warmth and breathe in the smell of coal and steel and sweat and her sister. She feels herself cry, everything in the past feeling so insignificant and far away as she holds her sister in her arms.
She forces herself to pull away, to study her sister's freckled face, her indigo eyes, the new glow to her rounder face, the youth that returned and the weight that seems to have been lifted off her shoulders. The stitched apprentice on the black apron she wears, the thickness her once wiry arms have gained, the healthy weight gained from a healthy diet. Vi holds her face in one hand, like she can’t believe that the girl in front of her is real, because she almost can’t.
Her sister grabs the hand she cupped her face with, holding it with the same emotion Vi holds her gaze with. “Guess I’m always with you, sis.”
Vi lets out a wet laugh, not even embarrassed in the slightest at the shake of her shoulders, or the line of snot flowing from her nose like a sick child, or the puddle forming on her sister’s shoulder. She pulls her back in a hug another time, but this time her sister is the one to pull away.
“Why did you find me?” Her eyebrows furrow in the middle of her face, a look akin to guilt crossing her features, almost like she expected her to never travel the distance to see her.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Vi promises. She grabs onto Cait’s hand, who hasn’t moved from her side at all. “I had a little help, though. She’s the how. And she helped me find the why.”
Her sister smiles, something she would’ve been afraid of a while ago. “She almost let you go, Vi. She’s as stubborn as I am and times more trusting. I accepted before I left that she’s good for you.” She looks down, her expression hidden from Vi’s sight. “I’m not, though. Thanks for this but you should probably—”
Vi pulls her in for another hug. “You’re always good for me, sis. Because you’re my sister; because you’re you. I would find you across the world if I had to. No distance isn’t worth it.”
Her sister starts the cry, the tears pebbling on Vi’s shoulder. “I love you, sis. I don’t deserve it.”
Vi laughs out a breath, pulling away to look in her eyes like she did so many years ago. “You deserve all of it and more.” She grabs Cait’s hand, keeping one of her hands on her sister’s shoulder. “Let’s go home, okay?”
˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗
When she was seventeen, she was lying on Jayce’s bed as he bent his nails backward trying to unscrew something. “What do you know about love, Jay?”
The doo-hickey flew from Jayce’s hands to the wooden floor. Cait picked it up and turned it clockwise, loosening up whatever the thing was. “Thanks…” Cait commonly made fun of Jayce, saying that his stature was for show, like a prize pony, to distract people from how empty the horse actually was in the brain.
“You’re not answering me.”
Jayce sighed, but turned around to where Cait was now sitting. “Love is weird, Cait. Run away while you can.” When Cait perked an unimpressed eyebrow at his flimsy dismissal he sighed again, heavier this time. “Fine. I think that love is different for everyone. Personally, I think there’s different kinds. Like, I love my friends, I love my mom, I love you. All different.”
Cait raised her eyebrow again, this time in question. “Am I not your friend?”
Jayce hesitated. “No, not really. You’re kinda like…” he took a second to find the right word, “…My sister?”
Cait stared at him. “Seriously?”
Jayce shrugged, like it was something she should’ve known. “Well, yeah. You’re my sister, Cait.”
Cait felt confused. Siblings were family, and they weren’t family, as far as she knew. Her mother always said that you can’t choose your family, and that family is blood. Jayce wasn’t her blood… he chose to say that. That she was his sister.
“Another thing about love is that you can’t choose who you love. So even though you have questionable taste sometimes, I can’t make fun of you too much since I know you can’t control it. Unfortunately.”
Usually, Cait would slap him on the shoulder and make a witty comment, but she’s stuck on “you can’t choose who you love.” Jayce called her his sister, and said you can’t choose who you love. It strikes her, like lightning, that Jayce chose her as his sister. That he saw her grow up and saw her yell and saw her cry and saw all of her ugliness, and still loved her. She was like his sister. Was that allowed? It felt right, in every sense of the combination of words, but it didn’t make sense at the same time.
Jayce’s brow furrowed. “For such a smartass, you seem a little dumbstruck right now.” He said it lightly, but his eyes were filled with concern.
“I…” Cait cleared her throat and hoped the tears in her eyes would suck back in. “Yeah. Sorry, I just...” Jayce smiled softly, like he understood. It wasn’t fair. That he knew her and still thought of her as family. She didn’t deserve that.
Cait never finished her sentence. Jayce got back to work, and she stared at the blurring ceiling until she fell asleep with the setting sun.
˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗
The nights were never as quiet as the way to the village, but the snoring in the tent brought a sense of comfort that wasn’t there before.
“I thought you might go with her, that day.” Cait says, the dwindling fire reflecting in her eyes. Vi turns to look at her, a sign for her to continue. “I told all of the guards to go to the Hex Gates so you could have the chance to go with her if you wanted.” She turns to her, her eyes looking into Cait’s shining blue one. “I thought you would be gone. I couldn’t believe it when I saw you there. I think about that constantly, and it led me to turn the key and try my damndest to find her. She was too clever not to escape, after all.” She exhales a little bit, trying at a smile, but Vi sees the tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry that I didn’t see any of that before. That she was something…”
“Something worth saving?” Vi finishes, a look of regret crossing her own face. “Cait, it was never for you to save her. It was always up to her to choose to accept that change. I could never get mad at you for that, especially since I did the same thing.” She holds her hand, a small, sad smile on her face. They sit in silence, absorbing the other’s presence.
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Before Jayce died, Caitlyn never got to say goodbye. Not even a “see you later,” or “love you, Jayce.”
The last conversation they had was a short one.
“Do you remember when I asked you about love?”
Jayce’s dulled eyes sparkled for a moment, for the first time since the attack. “Yeah. I called you a dumbass or something and you fell asleep on my bed and drooled all over my sheets.”
If Cait had the energy, she would’ve swatted him on the shoulder. But his shoulder was held together by bandages and their hearts were too worn to be light. Instead, she let out a breath, as close to a laugh she’s had since she saw crushed grey hair and lifeless cerulean eyes. “A smartass, actually.”
Jayce’s eyes looked at her for the first time since she sat down in the lab. He was always focused on his scribbled runes or his lukewarm coffee or Viktor.
She looked to the middle of the room, where the webbed strands wrapped around his inventions, their breath forming clouds in the unlively cold of the room.
“Do you love him?”
Jayce froze; truly, it was unreal how comical his reaction was. She thought she would laugh about it under different circumstances; now she replays it in her mind and feels like someone ripped her heart apart. “Well, of course. He’s my best friend; my partner. What do you think you’re doing asking a question like that?”
Cait shrugged, like Jayce does before he says something he thought should be obvious. “I just.. I know what that feels like. To love someone so much you forget what you were even doing it for in the first place. Don’t forget yourself, Jayce. And what you started as.”
She dove into his beaten and swollen eyes, amber glistening under tears. She’s never truly seen him cry. He looked just like he did years ago, wrapping cheese blocks in stale, dry bread. Envisioning machines out of paper clips and staples. Young, scared, and resigned to his future.
She hugged him tight, having a feeling this could be the last time. If she could go back, she would squeeze him until he was on the brink of bursting. She was never one willing to let go. “Be safe. Come back to us.”
Jayce pulled back, eyes shaking. Cait knew she would never see him again; we was always one to lose to love. “I promise.”
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It’s strange, really, to go back to Piltover with the broken pieces of what she wanted. To see people flourish in the wreckage, to see her sister reunite with Ekko, and for her to see the light in his eyes. It was so delicate, like it could break if she disappeared from his sight.
She holds Cait as they watch. She grasps her hands like a lifeline when they gather flowers. She lets her take a second to reminisce, holding her in her sight like a promise.
Even with their grief, they have good days. They read stories to kids. They help families off their feet. They sit by the fire and laugh and tell each other tales of their lives.
It wasn’t until now that Vi realized that home wasn’t a place, but a person. Night-dark hair and a pearly blue eye; a crooked smile and nervous hands. Nothing quite felt like her place before, but the woman holding her in her arms was where she belonged. The bridges between the rivalled lands formed because of this force of a woman; untrialed happiness appeared for the first time in her life because of her. Her sister was home and safe and loved because of her, and Vi at once knew that she belonged here.
For once, she let herself smile without grief or regret, letting the sunlight seep through the curtains without the guilt of making it to today. For once, she lets herself look forward, and is happy with what she sees.