Crimson and Sapphire

When the man returned, two nurses followed in his wake, their movements brisk and practiced. Caitlyn straightened in her seat, hands clasped in her lap to still the faint tremor. The air reeked of antiseptic, crawling into her nose and clinging to the back of her throat. The sterile scent made the place feel far too clean to be comforting.

The process moved fast. A few questions, a quick confirmation, AB negative. Rare, but not uncommon. One nurse swabbed her arm while the other prepped the needle and tubing.

The needle slid in. Caitlyn barely flinched.

It was done in minutes. Two pints drained, sealed, and labeled. The nurse removed the needle and pressed a cotton pad to her arm.

“All done,” she said, flashing a bright, clinical smile.

Caitlyn gave a nod and tried to rise, but the second she pushed up from the chair, the floor shifted beneath her. Her balance tipped. She blinked hard, but the edges of her vision blurred like fog rolling over the Sump.

“Cait?” Jayce’s voice cut through, low and sharp with concern. He stepped in, steadying her by the shoulders. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Caitlyn muttered, though her voice barely held.

The nurse frowned, already moving. “We might’ve taken more than she could handle.” She eyed the bag of blood, then Caitlyn again. “Sit back.”

Before Caitlyn could protest, a tray was shoved into her hands. Green juice and apple slices. She took them numbly.

“Here. Sugar and hydration. It'll pass.”

She sat, obedient this time, and drank. The juice was bitter, sour. Probably something synthetic from Zaun’s bio-labs, but it cleared some of the fog. The apples helped more. Something about their quiet sweetness grounded her.

“Thanks,” she murmured, glancing up at Jayce. He hadn’t moved an inch.

His jaw was tight. His arms crossed. Always the protector, even when he couldn’t do much more than stand there.

The nurse gave a nod and started wheeling the blood away toward the next room. “We’ll begin the surgery now,” she said.

Overhead, the surgical light flickered to life with a soft electric hum.

Jayce exhaled, long and slow, but Caitlyn could see it hadn’t done much to ease the tension carved into his brow. His fingers tapped restlessly against his knee, leg bouncing beneath him. Small tells, but Caitlyn had known him long enough to spot them. The easy confidence he wore like armor was cracked, and beneath it, something more human.

She leaned back in her chair, still lightheaded but not so far gone she couldn’t offer him a distraction. “So… I’m guessing it was the other sister?” Her voice came out softer than she intended, a little airy, like she was trying to remember a name from a dream.

Jayce blinked, caught off guard. “Haven’t I told you?” His voice dropped. “It’s Vi.”

Vi.

The name struck something faint, distant. Like hearing a familiar melody out of tune. Caitlyn frowned, the edges of her memory still blurred. It didn’t fit anywhere cleanly, not in her curated past or the faces she kept in mind.

“Vi,” she repeated quietly. Her brows pulled together. “I don’t… remember her.”

Jayce nodded slowly, noticing the disconnect. “The reports are calling it a car crash,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But their parents, Vander, Felicia, and Silco, think it was deliberate. Maybe even an assassination attempt. They’ve already pulled strings to launch a government probe.”

That pulled Caitlyn’s focus sharper. “Do you know what happened? Were you there when it happened?”

He shook his head, frustration lining his jaw. “No. We were supposed to meet. Talk shop about the Antlas Gauntlets, catch up after the last council’s consultation regarding Hextech. Never made it that far.”

“Since when did you concern yourself with the council’s opinion?” Caitlyn scoffed, her arms crossing.

Jayce hesitated, and Caitlyn caught it, a brief moment of hesitation before he met her gaze. “Since I… became a councilor.”

She let out a short, disbelieving laugh, but when she saw Jayce’s expression, her amusement faded. He wasn’t joking.

Caitlyn blinked, the words sinking in slowly. “You’re serious.”

“When? Why? Have they discovered how to govern with grease and a spanner?” She tried to keep the tone light, but something about Jayce’s tone told her this was no joke.

Jayce rolled his eyes, deadpan. “Ha. Ha.”

Caitlyn let the silence breathe between them, letting Jayce stew in his thoughts before he finally exhaled.

“I know I’m probably overreacting,” he muttered. “Assassination attempts aren’t exactly unheard of for people in their orbit. But it’s never hit this close before.”

She didn’t speak. He wasn’t wrong.

Vi wasn’t unfamiliar with danger. Being who she was, torn between Vander as his father in Council halls and Silco in the Undercity shadows had painted a target on her back since the beginning. She made enemies easily, held grudges just as tight. Double-crosses, dirty politics, near-death encounters… they weren’t new. But this? This had slipped through the cracks. Someone had timed it perfectly. They’d caught her off guard.

Jayce leaned forward, elbows braced against his knees, hands locked tight like he was holding something back. “What if next time they get it right?” he asked, voice hoarse. “What if it isn’t a warning shot? People are starting to feel like the powerful aren’t even safe anymore.”

Caitlyn placed a steady hand on his shoulder, grounding him. “Jayce,” she said firmly. “That’s not going to happen. Vi has Silco and Vander behind her. One’s a sitting councilor. The other’s got the Undercity eating out of the palm of his hand. Whoever pulled this stunt got lucky. She was distracted, probably in the middle of some backdoor negotiation.”

“But we can’t just sit around and—”

“Let them handle it,” Caitlyn cut in, voice sharp. “You don’t need to carry this, too. Vi’s not a civilian. She’s handled worse and walked away. Have some faith in her.”

Jayce opened his mouth to argue, but closed it again. She could see it, he wanted to believe her.

The harsh white overhead light flickered and dimmed. Caitlyn’s head snapped toward the hallway. The surgical lamp had gone out.

Out in the corridor, doctors murmured something to Powder and Silco. Their expressions were difficult to read, but both turned toward them with an unspoken weight pressing on their shoulders.

“She’s stable,” Silco said at last. His voice was low, flat, but Caitlyn could hear the tension threaded through every word. “She should regain consciousness in two, maybe three days.”

Jayce stood immediately, the motion stiff with restrained urgency.

“You can visit her now,” Powder added, quieter. “VVIP ward.”

The nurses beside her stepped forward to lead the way.

The VVIP ward wasn’t designed for comfort. It was built for control. Access was tight, and no amount of coin could buy your way in. You needed bloodlines, power, or names that made people nervous. For Powder’s sister, it wasn’t a privilege, it was protocol.

Caitlyn and Jayce stepped inside without a flicker of awe. The room was everything the elite expected: polished marble floors, warm lamplight reflecting off gold accents, and silence so thick it pressed against your skin. But to them, it was just noise disguised as wealth. They’d grown up in places like this. Learned early how to smile through it.

One of the nurses stole a glance at their faces, likely expecting admiration. Instead, Caitlyn’s expression remained impassive. Jayce looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.

At the far end of the room, Powder sat curled in a chair beside the bed. Her eyes never left the woman lying in front of her.

Caitlyn caught only fragments: bright strands of red hair against white linen, the curve of a tattoo brushing up along the side of her neck.

Tattoos. That tracked.

Of course, Vi would have ink. The kind of stories she wore on her skin.

Silco leaned close to Powder, his voice low but clear.

“I need to speak with Vander,” he said, not waiting for a reply. His tone was clipped, all business now.

Powder nodded, still staring at her sister. “Take care, Dad.”

Silco gave her a brief look, something almost soft in his expression before turning and disappearing into the corridor.

The door had barely clicked shut behind Silco when Caitlyn’s phone buzzed in her coat pocket.

She checked the screen. Marcus again.

Jayce leaned in, eyes narrowing. “Pick it up. Let’s hear what Piltover’s angriest fossil wants now.”

Caitlyn sighed but answered, switching the call to speaker. Powder stayed planted at Vi’s bedside, seemingly focused elsewhere, but Caitlyn had the feeling she was listening.

“Caitlyn! Are you coming or not? Why the hell have you been ignoring my messages all day?” Marcus barked. His voice came through loud, raw with irritation.

Caitlyn’s thumb hovered over the screen. She scrolled through dozens of missed texts. “I’ve been busy, Uncle. Something came up.”

“Busy?” he snapped. “With what? Your family comes first, Caitlyn.”

From across the room, Powder tilted her head, smirk tugging at her mouth. “Damn. Does he ever speak to you like a human? Or does he just wake up angry?”

Jayce chuckled.

Caitlyn blinked, thrown. “You were listening?”

Powder shot her a sideways grin. “Hard not to.”

Jayce folded his arms, jaw tense. “I swear, he only calls to remind you how much he doesn’t respect you.”

Caitlyn turned back to the phone. Her voice cut sharp and cold. “Why did you call, Uncle? Spit it out.”

A sharp breath on the other end. “Ren’s birthday. The banquet. You’re expected. Don’t embarrass the family again.”

She was about to answer something final, something that would shut the whole thing down but before the words left her mouth, Powder snatched the phone clean out of her hand.

“She’s going,” Powder said flatly, then ended the call before Marcus could utter another syllable.

Caitlyn stared at her. “You did not just do that.”

Jayce looked equally stunned. “Please tell me that was a joke.”

Powder leaned back in her chair, arms folded behind her head, smug as hell. “Relax. I wouldn’t pull a stunt like that without a plan.”

Caitlyn narrowed her eyes. “What plan?”

Jayce let out a low breath. “Powder, this isn’t a party trick. You don’t even know Marcus.”

“Sure I do,” she said with a wink. “He’s the type who plays dirty.”

She sat forward now, her grin fading into something sharper. “So let’s play better.”

"Margot and Maddie will be there," Jayce muttered, his voice laced with barely-contained frustration. "I can’t cancel my trip now." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "If you’re going, this is your chance. Flip the damn script."

Powder leaned back in her chair, legs casually dangling, twirling a strand of blue hair around her finger like she had all the time in the world. "Then we make it a show."

Caitlyn gave her a wary look. “I don’t like that tone.”

Powder’s grin widened, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Well, it just so happens my oh-so-charming, ever-so-influential big brother, Claggor Wickford, is back in town!”

“I can get Claggor to be your date for the banquet!” Powder’s grin grew even wider.