Behind Blue Eyes

Warmth.

That was the first thing Vi noticed.

Not just warmth but something solid, something steady. A presence that surrounded her, cocooning her in a heat she wanted to escape from at first, every muscle primed to run. But then, as her breathing slowed, as the erratic pounding in her chest softened to something steadier, she found herself… not wanting to leave it.

The next thing Vi noticed was movement. Slow, rhythmic, even. The rise and fall of something pressed against her back, expanding, contracting, in a pattern that, despite herself, she was already mirroring.

Her mind jolted into overdrive for a fraction of a second, instincts screaming at her to pull away, to fight, but. Gentle, soothing circles traced over her arms.

Fingers.

Hands.

She realized she was being held. They weren’t gripping. They weren’t restraining. They were reassuring. Comforting.

Vi stiffened, her breath hitching as the realization sank in. This wasn’t Powder, this wasn’t Vander, those were the only people who ever touched her like this, held her. The thought sent another spike of panic through her, her breath catching in her throat.

“Shhh…”

Soft. So quiet it was barely there. A breath against her ear, warm and gentle.

“Keep following my breathing.”

The words grounded her more than they should have. More than anything else had in a long time.

Vi focused on the steady inhale, the long exhale. The expansion of a chest against her back. The slow, controlled fall of it. 

And only then did she realize, she was following it. Her own breathing had already synced with the rhythm of the person holding her.

“Just like that.”

‘Oh.’

Caitlyn.

That was who was holding her.

That was who was keeping her tethered while her body wanted to dissolve into the panic that threatened to pull her under.

‘What the fuck happened?’

“Do you know where you are?” A whisper. A gentle question. A lure back to reality.

Vi’s fingers flexed against her legs. She gave a slight shake of her head before squeezing her knees tighter against her chest, like holding herself smaller would somehow help.

Caitlyn apparently didn’t like that.

Vi felt her shift closer, impossibly closer until her front was flush against Vi’s back. Until the warmth fully consumed her.

Hands moved again, brushing over Vi’s wrists, her grip on her own legs. Not prying. Asking.

Vi understood the silent request and after a moment she loosened her grip slightly, though she didn’t let go entirely.

Her thoughts were starting to clear. She replayed Caitlyn’s question in her head.

Where was she?

Vi wiggled her toes. Loose dirt, bits of gravel pressing against the soles of her feet. A cool draft from the narrow opening of the alley brushing against her skin.

She swallowed hard.

“The alley,” she murmured, voice hoarse.

Caitlyn’s fingers gave the smallest, reassuring squeeze.

“That’s right.”

Vi closed her eyes. Just for a moment. Just to breathe.

Caitlyn’s voice was unbearably soft, patient in a way that made Vi’s chest ache.

“Do you remember how you got here?”

Vi swallowed. The weight of the question settled heavily in her mind, pressing down on an already fragile foundation. The truth sat on the tip of her tongue, but her throat was too tight, words sticking like tar.

She wanted to answer. Needed to really. 

But everything hurt. Not just her foot, not just the persistent pounding in her skull. This moment, being held, being treated with care, was more painful than anything.

Because she wanted it.

She wanted it so bad it hurt worse than the migraine clawing behind her unseeing eyes.

Instead of speaking, Vi gave a slow nod, her body betraying her in its hesitance.

Fragments of memory started piecing themselves back together, sluggish and disjointed, like pulling something fragile from deep water.

She’d woken up feeling… good. That in itself was strange. She’d had a full night’s sleep, uninterrupted, the first in hell, she didn’t even know how long.

But then the headache started creeping in. A warning. A reminder.

She needed an outlet. ‘No,’ she wanted an outlet. She needed to move, to fight, to hit something hard enough that she felt it, anything to pull focus from the fire in her skull. But she hadn’t had anything readily available.

The bar.

She went to the bar.

And then…

Vander.

Her stomach twisted as clarity cut through the fog.

She’d raged, kicking over a box of liquor. 

She’d ran.

No, not ran, fled.

From home.

From him.

Because of what he took away from her.

Vi’s breathing hitched slightly, earning her an, “it’s alright,” from Caitlyn. 

Vander had been so good to her the night before. He’d been patient, understanding, let her lean on him in a way she hadn’t in years. He’d tucked her into bed, called her kid, And then she’d gone and fucked it all up somehow. 

She didn’t understand.

‘What had changed?’

‘Why had he changed?’

She clenched her jaw, forcing her mind to replay the moments before she fell asleep, trying to pinpoint the exact second everything had gone to shit.

She remembered handing over Caitlyn’s coat, her fingers lingering just a second too long. Reluctant.

Vander went to hang it up to avoid wrinkles…

Vi’s stomach dropped.

The closet.

He’d gone into her closet.

He knew.

‘Oh, fuck.’

A fresh wave of panic surged through her. She squeezed her knees tighter to her chest, as if curling in on herself could somehow undo the damage.

Vander knew.

He had to.

That was the only reason.

Her hands clenched against her legs, nails pressing into her skin.

He’d seen the vials. The proof of her weakness that she tried and failed to hide. 

‘Stupid’

And instead of confronting her that night, instead of yelling; he’d taken away the one thing she had left. Her purpose. Her means of gaining control over her life.

Her body tensed. She should’ve expected this. She should’ve known.

She’d woken up. Gone to the bar.

Caitlyn had been there.

She’d teased Vi, made her blush. ‘Nothing new there.’

And then Vander.

The back of her throat burned, but before she could spiral any further. 

“Violet.”

Vi shuddered at the way Caitlyn said it. The name rippled through her like a current, sending an involuntary shiver up her spine.

Caitlyn never called her that before. 

Vi only allowed Vander and Powder to call her that.

When they’d first met; properly met, after Caitlyn had barreled into her at the Academy, Caitlyn had asked what her name was. 

Vi had smirked and told her, “You’ll have to earn that right.”

She never expected Caitlyn to actually earn it. And she didn’t at first. 

Powder, loud-mouthed little menace that she was, had of course ruined that mystery long ago.

But this?

Vi had never given Caitlyn permission to use Violet. Yet somehow, sitting here in this filthy alley, wrapped in Caitlyn’s arms, feeling safer in a way she hadn’t been in years; she decided Caitlyn had earned it.

“Are you struggling to form words?”

Vi nodded, and for once, she wasn’t embarrassed by the admission. Because fuck, she was overwhelmed.

By everything.

The headache.

The shimmer.

Vander.

Powder

And Caitlyn.

Especially Caitlyn.

Caitlyn hummed, a soft sound of acknowledgment, her arms tightening briefly before relaxing once more.

“Alright,” she murmured, her voice low and steady. “Would you like me to let you go?”

Vi reacted before she could even think, her body answering for her.

She shook her head, almost violently, as if the very idea of being without Caitlyn’s warmth sent a fresh wave of panic through her. Her arms released their death grip on her knees and, instead, latched onto Caitlyn’s arms, fingers curling tight, anchoring herself to something solid, real.

Caitlyn was holding her, but Vi was holding on to Caitlyn.

“Don’t let me go,” Vi choked out, her voice strained, not from tears but from the sheer effort of forcing the words past the tightness in her throat.

She hated this.

Hated the vulnerability of it.

Hated the way her voice shook, how weak she sounded. But fuck, she couldn’t let go.

Because as soon as she did, she’d have to face everything waiting for her at The Last Drop; Vander, Powder, the truth of what she’d been trying to bury.

She wasn’t ready for that.

Caitlyn made a soft, thoughtful sound before leaning forward, pressing just a fraction closer until her chin rested lightly against Vi’s shoulder. Light. Steady.

“What do you hear?” Caitlyn’s voice was warm against her skin, the question both grounding and distracting.

Vi stiffened slightly, confused. ‘Why ask that of all things?’ But she listened regardless. 

Really listened.

She closed her eyes, tilting her head just slightly as her focus sharpened.

“Factories,” she muttered after a moment, her words gravel-rough, but her voice was finally steadying. She coughed, adjusting her grip on Caitlyn’s arms. “Down in the Sumps. People… no, vendors, yelling from the Lanes.”

It was getting easier to speak now. The more she focused, the more she felt herself returning.

“Good,” Caitlyn murmured, her thumb brushing slow, methodical circles against Vi’s knee.

The small, repeated motion sent warmth curling up Vi’s spine, settling deep in her chest.

“What else?”

Vi swallowed, her fingers twitching where they gripped Caitlyn’s sleeves. “You…” she whispered before she could stop herself.

Caitlyn stilled. Then after a beat, a squeeze, a soft acknowledgment.

Vi exhaled, not quite a laugh, but something lighter than before.

“What do you feel?” Caitlyn asked next, her breath more than ghosting over Vi’s ear now; it lingered, just barely skimming her skin.

Vi turned her head slightly, blindly angling toward Caitlyn’s voice, toward the warmth radiating from her body. She didn’t even have to think about the answer.

“Only you.”

It was the truth.

Because in this moment, there was only Caitlyn. And that surprisingly didn’t terrify her.

She leaned into it. Into her.

Caitlyn inhaled sharply, the breath stuttering for just a fraction of a second; a tell, one Vi would have killed to see. Gods, she hoped there was a blush to go with that breath.

She’d never know, but she wanted to.

Vi became acutely aware of how close they were. How warm Caitlyn’s body was pressed against her back. How her breath skimmed over Vi’s lips with every exhale. How Caitlyn wasn’t moving away.

“And what do you see?”

The question was barely a whisper, softer than the breeze that drifted through the alley, barely audible between them.

Vi furrowed her brow.

‘Was Caitlyn seriously asking that?’

She knew Vi was blind.

‘What the fuck kind of question was that?’

But something in Caitlyn’s voice made her pause. Something gentle. Something knowing. And despite the absurdity of it, Vi answered.

“Nothing,” she breathed.

She felt Caitlyn hear it. Not just with her ears, but on her lips.

The world around them shrank.

The hum of the city, the distant factory drones, the occasional scuff of movement further down the alley; it all faded into insignificance as Vi inhaled sharply, steeling herself against her truth. The only truth. 

No light, no colors, no shapes. 

Nothing. 

“Does it frighten you?” Caitlyn’s voice was barely a whisper, a featherlight touch against Vi’s frayed nerves, but it carried the weight of something much heavier.

“Yes.” The word cracked as it left Vi’s lips, broken and honest.

Because it was the truth.

Nothing scared her before the explosion. She was never afraid. Fear belonged to Powder. She was the one who used to be terrified of the dark, of the monsters that lurked just beyond the reach of candlelight.

And now Vi lived in it.

Even years later, she still feared the dark, empty, void that swallowed her whole every time she woke up.

In her sleep she could dream in the light, in the colors. Vi could see her families’ faces. Everything she had lost was there but only in her dream-scape. 

Vi could no longer chase Powder’s monsters away when she couldn’t even act like she could see them herself.

And worse?

Vi wasn’t sure she wasn’t the monster now.

Caitlyn’s arms tightened around her, unwavering, as if she could physically hold her together when everything inside Vi was breaking apart at the seams.

“Do I scare you?”

Vi barely had to think about it.

“Yes.”

Not because Caitlyn was a threat. Not because she feared her. But because Caitlyn was something she didn’t understand.

Because Caitlyn was gentle when Vi was used to cruelty by everyone but her family. 

Because Caitlyn was patient when Vi had spent years convincing herself she wasn’t worth the effort.

Because Caitlyn had already shattered the carefully constructed walls around her, piece by piece, -in such a short time- and Vi wasn’t sure she’d survive whatever was left once they were gone.

She really wanted to though. 

Vi only realized she was crying when Caitlyn shifted, lifting just one arm to cradle her cheek.

The touch was soft.

Her thumb brushed across Vi’s skin, slow and delicate, wiping away a single tear as if it had never existed at all.

Vi exhaled sharply, the sound catching in her throat as she leaned into Caitlyn’s palm without thinking.

Her own fingers came up, wrapping lightly around Caitlyn’s wrist, holding her there.

“How can I rectify that, Vi?”

Caitlyn’s voice was closer now, heat brushed against Vi’s lips, her breath mixing with Vi’s own.

Vi swallowed, her grip tightening around Caitlyn’s wrist.

She didn’t know.

She didn’t know how to stop being afraid of something that wasn’t meant to be feared.

Caitlyn was…

Perfect.

And Vi didn’t deserve perfect. She didn’t deserve anything. However, Caitlyn was here.

Every single second spent together, the fear grew and faded, tangled into some strange paradox Vi couldn’t begin to unravel.

So she stopped trying.

She stopped thinking.

She stopped running.

Vi did the one thing she thought she would never have the opportunity to do again after her accident.

She leaned forward, blindly tilting her face, and kissed the girl.

It wasn’t graceful.

It wasn’t practiced.

But it was everything.

A hesitant press of lips, uncertain but desperate in its honesty.

Vi’s fingers curled tighter around Caitlyn’s wrist. She turned her body towards the other woman. Her free hand shifting to grasp the fabric of Caitlyn’s uniform at her shoulder, anchoring herself in place as if she was afraid Caitlyn might disappear the second she pulled away.

But Caitlyn didn’t disappear.

She didn’t pull away.

Instead, she sighed into the kiss, a quiet sound of surprise giving way to something softer, something warmer.

And then Caitlyn moved.

One of her hands slid down, trailing from Vi’s cheek to the nape of her neck, fingertips pressing gently into the sensitive skin there as she tilted Vi’s face just slightly, deepening the kiss with an ease that made Vi’s heart stutter.

The alley, the city, the whole damn world, It didn’t matter.

Because right now, there was only this.

Only them.

And Vi had never felt anything like it before.

‘Was this what freedom felt like?’

Vi choked back a sob as she desperately deepened the kiss, pouring every emotion she couldn’t put into words into the way their lips met and parted. There was just so much; the overwhelming relief, the uncertainty, the sheer desperation of wanting something so badly it hurt.

She could feel Caitlyn, her warmth, the way her lips moved so effortlessly against her own, the faint hitch in her breath. She tasted her, mint, crisp and clean, mixed with the slight lingering trace of a Zaun brew. The contrast was intoxicating.

Caitlyn let Vi take the lead, something Vi had never expected but desperately needed. Caitlyn wasn’t pushing, wasn’t trying to take control; she was giving Vi the space, the choice. And for that, Vi was even more grateful for this woman.

She wasn’t good at this.

She didn’t know what she was doing.

But when Caitlyn sighed into the kiss, when her lips parted just slightly in response, Vi’s confidence surged. She felt the shift in their dynamic, the silent approval in the way Caitlyn leaned into her touch, in the way her fingers ghosted over Vi’s neck as if offering support without demand.

All too soon, Caitlyn was the one to pull away first, breaking the kiss just enough to breathe, her lips still close enough to brush against Vi’s.

Vi whined.

But that quickly faded when Caitlyn leaned forward again, pressing her forehead against Vi’s.

Their breaths mingled in the narrow space between them, both of them breathing hard, but Caitlyn’s was notably more uneven.

Vi smirked.

Finally, she had flustered this woman the way Caitlyn always seemed to do to her.

Then…

Caitlyn clicked her tongue.

Five

Vi swore her heart tripped over itself at the sound. ‘Just when I had the winning hand’

“You didn’t answer my question,” Caitlyn murmured, her voice rich with something teasing, yet still carrying that same gentle patience that Vi was coming to rely on.

Vi arched a single brow, feeling bold for the first time. “I thought I just did?”

Caitlyn hummed softly and shook her head. “Though I did enjoy that response,” she admitted, her fingers idly tracing slow, absentminded patterns along Vi’s neck, “it wasn’t an answer to my question.”

Vi opened her mouth, then closed it.

Because Caitlyn was right.

She had deliberately avoided answering. She didn’t have an answer before.

But now?

Now she did.

Vi leaned back slightly; not pulling away, just shifting enough that their foreheads no longer touched, but they remained firmly in each other’s space. She hesitated, then released her hold on Caitlyn’s shoulder and wrist, exhaling shakily.

Slowly, she brought her hands up to Caitlyn’s face.

Caitlyn removed her hands from Vi’s neck and remained perfectly still.

Vi’s fingers ghosted over her skin first, barely touching, hesitant. She needed this. Needed to map her. To see her the only way she could.

Caitlyn didn’t stop her. Didn’t question it. She simply let her.

Vi started at her hairline, running her fingers down, feeling the fine strands slip through her calloused fingertips. She trailed lower, brushing across Caitlyn’s forehead, her fingertips pressing lightly over her brows.

Caitlyn closed her eyes, anticipating Vi’s touch before it even happened.

Vi took her time.

She moved down to her cheeks, tracing the soft curves, then skimmed over her ears, noting the shape of them, the way the lobe dipped slightly. Her thumbs ghosted along Caitlyn’s jaw, mapping the angles, then carefully traced the slope of her nose.

Vi swallowed thickly.

This was…

Janna help her, Caitlyn was beautiful.

Powder had said as much, had raved about Caitlyn’s high cheekbones, her striking blue eyes, the sharp but elegant structure of her face.

But Vi had never had the luxury of knowing what she looked like.

And now, as her fingers carefully traced Caitlyn’s lips, she felt the truth of it.

Soft. Warm.

She felt Caitlyn’s breath catch, felt the faintest tremble as she parted her lips slightly under Vi’s touch.

Vi exhaled shakily, committing every sensation to memory.

She knew now.

Caitlyn was painfully gorgeous.

And Vi was-

Terrified.

She dropped her hands as the realization fully settled in.

Caitlyn caught them immediately, her grip firm but gentle, grounding. Holding their hands together between them.

Vi swallowed, staring downward.

She had never been this open before.

But she was ready now.

“…Help me,” she whispered.

Caitlyn hummed softly. “How, dear?”

Vi clenched her jaw, trying to find the right words, then lifted an arm, gesturing vaguely at Caitlyn . “To see you.…” Her fingers curled slightly. “Understand You.”

She hadn’t meant to sound so broken.

But she was.

Caitlyn, ever perceptive, her words from a week ago used against her this time. She lifted Vi’s chin, slow and careful with two fingers. 

Vi let her.

For the first time in ever, she let someone touch her in a way that wasn’t just a fight or a fleeting embrace from her family.

Caitlyn’s lips brushed against her cheek, a featherlight press that sent a shiver through Vi’s entire body.

“I can do that,” Caitlyn murmured. “And more if you would permit.”

Vi believed her.

Still terrified but willing to face everything if it meant Caitlyn was there with her. 

Vi’s mind scrambling to process Caitlyn’s words, the soft kiss lingering against her cheek like a phantom sensation.

Vi swallowed, suddenly feeling ripped open under Caitlyn’s gaze, under her fingers, under the weight of something she couldn’t define but desperately wanted to hold onto.

She turned her head ever so slightly, her lips brushing against Caitlyn’s knuckles, testing the waters, letting herself lean into the touch rather than flinching away. The warmth of Caitlyn’s hand moved from her chin to touch against her scarred skin by her eyes. It felt surreal, she wanted to flinch despite the intimacy from earlier. The feeling in her chest grew. 

‘Maybe this was what hope felt like.’

Caitlyn didn’t move, didn’t pull away. Instead, her fingers traced a slow, deliberate path along Vi’s cheekbone, the touch reverent, like she was committing every detail to memory.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I do,” Caitlyn whispered, barely audible, the words more felt than heard.

Vi’s heart clenched.

‘I don’t,’ she almost said. Because if she did, if she really saw herself through Caitlyn’s eyes, she wasn’t sure she’d survive it.

Instead of speaking, instead of ruining whatever this was, Vi exhaled shakily, her fingers twitching against Caitlyn’s sleeve, gripping the fabric to keep herself there, before moving to her wrist. 

She had spent her entire life running, avoiding, shutting out anything that made her feel too much. And yet, here she was, tangled up in Caitlyn Kiramman like she was something Vi needed.

Maybe she did.

Maybe she always had.

Caitlyn leaned in again, their foreheads pressing together, the warmth of her breath fanning over Vi’s lips.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice impossibly soft.

Vi blinked, her brows drawing together. “For what?” Her voice came out rough, hoarse from the earlier panic, from the weight of warring emotions fighting in her chest.

Caitlyn chuckled lightly, and it was music. A sound so effortlessly Caitlyn that Vi swore she could feel it vibrate through her heart.

“For letting me understand you,” Caitlyn said, her tone filled absolute care.

‘Oh.’

Vi knew what she meant now.

She huffed, shaking her head slightly, but she didn’t pull away. “You’re so annoying,” she muttered, but there wasn’t an ounce of malice behind it. If anything, her words felt more like a quiet admission.

Caitlyn hummed, and for once, she didn’t correct her with a smug, teasing ‘Persistent’.

Instead, she tilted Vi’s chin slightly, her thumb grazing the edge of her jaw as she whispered, “And you, my dear, are so lovely.”

Vi’s stomach dropped.

‘Fuck me.’

She felt the telltale heat creeping up her neck, settling into her cheeks with a slow burn that she knew Caitlyn would pick up on.

Sure enough, Caitlyn hummed in approval, her fingers trailing lightly along Vi’s flushed skin, the touch barely there but impossible to ignore.

“Perfect,” Caitlyn murmured, the word so damn sure, like it wasn’t up for debate.

Vi clenched her jaw, shaking her head slightly. 

She wanted to argue, to tell Caitlyn she was wrong, that there was nothing perfect about her.

She wanted to say, ‘look at me, really look at me.’

The milky blue eyes that no longer saw the world as it was. The scars, so many of them, webbing across her skin like glowing cracked glass. The broken mess of a person she had become, the damage she carried with her every single day.

But Caitlyn had looked at her.

Caitlyn had seen her.

And still, she said it.

Still, she meant it.

Vi swallowed hard, gripping Caitlyn’s wrist just a little tighter, grounding herself in the warmth, in the certainty of the woman holding her.

She didn’t believe Caitlyn.

But maybe…

Maybe if Caitlyn said it enough times, one day…

She might begin to. 

All too soon, Caitlyn sighed, the weight of reality settling over them. “Are you ready?” she asked gently, her voice low, careful, as if she already knew the answer.

Vi sighed too, dragging a hand down her face. Of course, she knew exactly what Caitlyn was referring to. Going back. Facing Vander. Dealing with whatever storm awaited her at The Last Drop.

No, she wasn’t ready.

She liked this the little bubble they had created in this forgotten alley. The warmth of Caitlyn pressed against her, the comfort of her presence, the way she somehow made the world feel a little less unbearable. Leaving meant stepping back into the fray, into the inevitable confrontation with Vander, with her family, with herself.

And at the mere thought of it, her headache flared with renewed intensity, sending a sharp pulse of pain through her skull. Vi winced. 

Caitlyn, ever observant, caught it instantly. “We don’t have to go now if you need more time,” she offered, ever patient, ever understanding. She had misinterpreted the wince, but her sincerity was undeniable.

Vi exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. “No, it’s not that…”

She pulled her hands from Caitlyn’s wrists and rubbed at her temple, leaning away just slightly; not to put distance between them, but to avoid accidentally elbowing Caitlyn as she tried to ease the tension in her head.

A quick inhale from Caitlyn made Vi pause. A soft gasp, barely audible, but unmistakably laced with concern.

Then, gentle hands cupped her jaw, turning her head to the side with deliberate care. Vi barely had time to react before she felt fingers brush lightly around her ear, skimming the damp skin.

“Vi… you’re hurt,” Caitlyn murmured, voice tight with concern.

Vi blinked, her brow furrowing. “What?”

Tentatively, she lifted her fingers to where Caitlyn had touched and felt something warm and sticky coating the tips. Her stomach dropped.

Caitlyn didn’t sound alarmed, but she felt alarmed. Vi could sense it in the way her touch lingered just a second too long, in the way her breath hitched ever so slightly.

Blood.

“Oh,” Vi muttered, rubbing her fingers together before wiping them off on her tank top. “No, Cait, this is normal.”

Caitlyn clicked her tongue.

Sixth time today. But she wasn’t counting. 

Vi might be developing a problem because, despite the situation, her stomach flipped at the sound.

“You bleeding is normal?” Caitlyn questioned, skepticism heavy in her voice. “And you expect me to believe that?”

Vi sighed, knowing she wasn’t getting out of this conversation. “When I get one of my nastier headaches, this sometimes happens,” she admitted.

Caitlyn didn’t respond immediately. But Vi could feel her calculating, considering. Then, quietly but firmly, she said, “I am no medical expert, but that doesn’t seem normal. My father is a doctor, maybe he-”

Vi groaned, cutting her off with a wave of her hand. “We haven’t even been on a date yet, I am definitely not ready to meet the parents.”

She tried to joke past it, tried to lighten the mood, but Caitlyn wasn’t having it.

“For the record,” Caitlyn said smoothly, “we had a date last night.”

Vi opened her mouth to argue, then promptly shut it again.

…Shit.

Technically, Caitlyn wasn’t wrong.

Caitlyn continued, ever so casually, “And you don’t have to meet him. I could simply ask about it… only if that’s alright with you, of course.”

Vi hesitated. She hated this. Hated talking about herself like this, but Caitlyn wasn’t pressuring her, wasn’t demanding answers or forcing her into anything.

It was a simple offer. No strings attached.

Vi sighed, rubbing at her temple again. What harm could it do? “Alright,” she muttered. “Why not.”

Caitlyn smiled, and Vi felt it in the shift of the air between them when she said, “Thank you.”

Then Caitlyn stood, stretching out her limbs, rolling her shoulders before wiping down her uniform. Vi heard the subtle rustle of fabric, the shifting of her stance.

“Ready?” she asked, her voice light but expectant.

Vi groaned dramatically, but there was no escaping it.

“Yeah, let’s get this over with.”

She pushed herself up without help, ignoring the slight ache in her foot, though she barely had a second to register it before Caitlyn was there, seamlessly maneuvering to Vi’s right side.

Without a word, Caitlyn took Vi’s arm and draped it over her own shoulders, bearing her weight without hesitation.

Vi huffed a laugh, unable to stop the smirk from tugging at her lips. “You really don’t have to do this, you know.”

Caitlyn clicked her tongue, again.

Seven.

“Of course I do,” Caitlyn said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Vi was doomed.

Vi groaned as she let Caitlyn guide her, though it wasn’t out of pain, at least, not physical pain. The realization of what she was about to walk into weighed heavily on her shoulders. Vander was going to kill her.

Caitlyn, ever the perceptive one, must have noticed her reluctance because she gave Vi’s hand a reassuring squeeze where it rested on her shoulder. “It won’t be as bad as you think,” she murmured, her voice calm, steady, and sure.

Vi snorted, shifting her weight slightly against Caitlyn to ease the pressure on her injured foot. “You don’t know Vander.”

“I know of him,” Caitlyn countered, adjusting her grip on Vi’s arm with ease. “And I know he cares for you more than anything in the world. Which means, yes, he’ll be irate, but I doubt it will be anything you can’t handle.”

Vi huffed, her breath ruffling a few loose strands of Caitlyn’s hair. “Yeah? And what makes you so sure?”

Caitlyn chuckled, clicking her tongue, a sound that was quickly becoming Vi’s favorite thing in the world. “Because he let me take you out last night.”

Eight

Vi’s brain short-circuited.

She stumbled, not from her injury, not from exhaustion, but from sheer, unfiltered shock.

Caitlyn let out a startled laugh, catching Vi easily before she could fully lose her balance. “Careful,” she teased, adjusting their stance so Vi wouldn’t put too much pressure on her bad foot. “I wouldn’t want to have to carry you back.”

Vi scowled, ignoring the heat creeping up her neck. “You didn’t just say that.”

“I certainly did,” Caitlyn said, the amusement thick in her voice.

Vi groaned, tipping her head back dramatically. “Why are you like this?”

Caitlyn simply hummed. “Persistent, remember?”

Vi knew she was smirking, knew she was enjoying every second of this.

With a resigned sigh, Vi grumbled, “Let’s just get this over with before you kill me instead.”

Caitlyn took that as her cue, tightening her hold on Vi’s arm as they slowly made their way out of the alley. The streets were quieter now, the distant hum of factories and vendors still ever-present, but there was an ease to the incoming night that Vi hadn’t noticed before.

Maybe it was because she wasn’t alone.

Maybe it was because Caitlyn was here.

They walked in silence for a while, the weight of the moment settling between them.

Eventually, Caitlyn spoke. “For the record,” she murmured, her voice softer now, less teasing, “I meant what I said. About asking my father.”

Vi glanced in her direction, not that she could see her, but just to acknowledge the words. “…Yeah?”

“Yes.” Caitlyn squeezed Vi’s fingers lightly where their hands brushed together. “And also for the record, you don’t have to handle everything on your own, Violet.”

Vi swallowed, her throat suddenly tight. She wanted to argue, to push back, to tell Caitlyn she didn’t need help, that she could handle it, just like she always had.

But she didn’t because the reality was…

She had asked Caitlyn for help. 

With that in mind, she let out a slow breath and nodded. “Alright.”

Caitlyn hummed in approval.

Vi felt the smile in her voice when she whispered, “Good girl.”

Vi almost tripped again.

After several turns, a few “steps,” “glass,” and “bins” from Caitlyn, Vi could tell they were getting closer to The Last Drop’s back entrance. The layout of the alleys was familiar enough, and the way the cool air was shifting, carrying the heavier scent of metal and oil from the main streets, told her it was getting late.

Based on the distinct chill settling into her skin, it was well into the afternoon, maybe even evening. She had been gone for hours.

The length of time didn’t particularly bother her. What did bother her was the state she was in.

Bare feet coated in dirt and alley grime. Sweaty from exertion. Still in nothing but her tank top and briefs.

‘Fuck.’

She really needed to think before she acted. She had woken up in such a good mood, convinced she could just walk around the bar in this state, like an idiot.

Stupid.

“I would prefer you stop calling yourself that,” Caitlyn’s voice cut in smoothly, teasing yet firm. There was no room for argument in her tone.

Vi stiffened. She hadn’t even realized she had spoken out loud.

She turned her head slightly toward Caitlyn and gave her a sheepish grin. “Yes, ma’am.” She lifted her free hand in a mock salute, the movement lazy and exaggerated.

Caitlyn sighed, but Vi could hear the amusement in it.

Then, they slowed to a stop.

“We’re here,” Caitlyn announced softly, adjusting her grip on Vi’s arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “How do you want to handle this? Back entrance or front?”

Vi hesitated.

Front meant walking through the bar, which meant dealing with her entire family immediately.

Vander. Powder. Mylo. Claggor.

A whole room of people staring at her, waiting for an explanation.

‘No thanks.’

She took a deep, steadying breath and immediately winced.

Janna, she reeked.

Between the workout, the dirt from the alley floor, and the lingering sweat, she stank. How the hell had Caitlyn been holding her up this entire time without complaint? Vi scowled.

The answer was obvious.

The woman had the patience of a saint.

Or… she was just that polite.

Vi sighed dramatically. “Yeah, let’s take the back. It’s easier to get to my room that way.”

Caitlyn hummed, considering. “Your room?”

“Yeah,” Vi grumbled, rubbing the back of her neck. “Or haven’t you noticed I smell like a rotting mongoose?”

Caitlyn hummed again. “Right... Good choice,” Caitlyn agreed, her tone suspiciously neutral.

Vi narrowed her eyes, even if she couldn’t actually see Caitlyn’s face. “You hesitated.”

“I most certainly did not hesitate,” Caitlyn said smoothly, but there was a smile in her voice.

Vi knew she was holding back a laugh.

The idea of Caitlyn trying very hard not to agree outright only made Vi grin wider.

Then Caitlyn actually let out a soft chuckle, and Vi lost it, throwing her head back in laughter.

“Janna, you’re trying so hard to be polite about it,” Vi wheezed. “Just admit it, Sheriff. I reek.”

Caitlyn nodded and Vi felt her smirk.

“Well,” Caitlyn drawled, “I do enjoy your natural scent. But I also support any decision that involves a shower.”

Vi groaned, playfully shoving at Caitlyn’s shoulder before immediately regretting it when she stumbled slightly.

Caitlyn caught her effortlessly.

And fuck, that was annoying.

Vi sighed, resigned. “Yeah, alright. Shower first. Then I guess I’ll go get yelled at.”

Caitlyn smiled against her temple. “I think that’s a wonderful plan.”

Caitlyn pulled open the back door and guided Vi inside with careful, steady movements. The air inside The Last Drop was slightly warmer than the alley, carrying the familiar scent of aged wood, stale beer, and the faintest trace of something sweet, maybe the remnants of whatever Mylo had been drinking earlier.

The storage room was clean.

Vi didn’t need Caitlyn to say anything to realize that the shattered glass, the spilled liquor -her mess- had been taken care of. Probably Claggor. The big guy always had a way of handling things without making a fuss about it.

Still, the realization made her stomach twist.

She hated that she had left like that. Hated that they had to clean up after her. 

again.

On the other side of the door separating the storage room from the main bar, voices murmured over the low hum of music, the occasional clink of glasses and laughter slipping through the cracks.

The bar was open.

‘Thank Janna.’

Vi had half-expected Vander to close up shop, to drop everything just to deal with her. And maybe, selfishly, she had dreaded that possibility the most.

That meant he hadn’t dropped everything for her.

That meant things could still be normal.

Or as normal as they could be.

Caitlyn shifted beside her, adjusting her hold before slowly releasing Vi’s arm, allowing her to find her own balance. Then, gentle but firm, Caitlyn turned Vi toward her.

“Can you make it downstairs on that foot without assistance?”

Vi rolled her weight onto her right foot, testing the pressure. There was a dull ache where the bandages wrapped her heel, but it was manageable. Nothing she couldn’t push through.

“Yep,” she confirmed.

Caitlyn lingered for a moment, as if weighing whether or not to believe her. Then, seemingly satisfied, she hummed.

Vi smirked to herself.

“Alright,” Caitlyn said, her tone shifting slightly. “Last question before we go in there.”

Vi barely had time to react before Caitlyn reached up, cradling her cheek with warm, steady fingers. Vi exhaled softly and leaned into the touch instinctively, unable to help herself.

Janna, she was getting so weak for this woman.

“Would you like me to stay for your conversation with Vander?”

Vi almost nodded. Almost.

But she stopped herself just in time.

Caitlyn didn’t know about the vials.

There was no way Vander would have told her, especially not with her being Sheriff and all.

And Vi wasn’t ready for that conversation. Not with Caitlyn.

Not yet.

Because Caitlyn thought she was perfect.

What would she think if she knew? Would she still look at Vi the same way? Or would she finally see the mess that everyone else already saw?

Vi inhaled slightly, then forced herself to shake her head. “No, you’ve helped me enough. I’m sure you’re needed somewhere else, kissing babies or whatever.”

Caitlyn hesitated, but nodded, her fingers brushing lightly against Vi’s cheek before pulling away. “Alright,” she murmured, voice softer now. “I’ll tell Vander you need a shower before you’re ready to talk.”

Vi barely registered Caitlyn stepping back before her hand shot out, blindly catching hold of the front of Caitlyn’s uniform.

Warm fabric. The faint scent of gunpowder and slightly clean linen.

Caitlyn stilled.

Vi swallowed, suddenly feeling very ridiculous, but pushed through it anyway.

“Will you come back tomorrow?” she asked, quiet and hesitant, more vulnerable than she had meant to sound.

There was a beat of silence.

“Of course,” Caitlyn said, amusement lacing her voice. “But it’ll have to be after my shift.”

Vi exhaled, relief flooding her faster than it should have.

“I have been neglecting my duties as of late,” Caitlyn continued with a chuckle, “and I dare say I must make an appearance before I’m demoted back to foot patrol.”

Vi smirked. “Oh, that would be tragic.”

Caitlyn clicked her tongue. 

Nine.

Vi had to bite back a grin.

She let go of Caitlyn’s uniform, relaxing just slightly. “Tomorrow then.”

Caitlyn didn’t move away.

Instead, she leaned in, so close that Vi could feel her breath ghost over her lips.

“Tomorrow,” Caitlyn murmured.

And then she kissed her.

Soft. Gentle. Barely more than a lingering press of lips, but fuck, Vi felt it everywhere.

She swooned.

No way around it. No fighting it. No pretending otherwise.

Caitlyn pulled back too quickly, leaving Vi frozen in place, barely processing the loss before she heard the creak of the storage room door opening.

She was gone.