Family Reunion
The next week was a hazy fever dream, each day slowly merging into the next, fogged together as the news article headings eventually grew more harrowing.
NOXUS INVADES ZAUN OVER LAND DISPUTE
PILTOVER WARNS NOXUS OF RETALIATION OVER ATTACKS
NOXUS MILITARY BUDGET UP BY 300% THIS YEAR
PILTOVER DECLARES WAR ON NOXUS IN RECENT COUNCIL ADDRESS
And Vi had been there to see it all.
She’d tuned into every broadcast, every councillor interview, and had listened in as Principal Heimerdinger and Councillor Cassandra Kiramman had addressed the nation in a damning speech.
“We have been nothing but peaceful to the Noxians,” Kiramman had begun, glancing down at her notes every so often. “But it is dishonourable to watch our Zaunite brothers and sisters lay victim to a fascist and relentless dictatorship. This is not about fighting for Zaun or fighting for Piltover, this is about fighting for liberty and justice for all, for doing what is right in the face of evil.”
Vi had quickly dismissed herself from Caitlyn’s room after the condemning call, promising she’d phone Caitlyn eventually before sprinting all the way home.
When she finally got back to her room, Vi allowed herself to do something she hadn’t done in a very long time.
She cried.
She wept and screamed into her pillow, sobbing until her throat went coarse and dry and her eyes were puffy, tears running thick streams down her face.
Her tears of sorrow swiftly became tears of anger and she begun launching items across her room and into the walls around her, shattering her picture frames and anything else she could get her furious hands on.
After her frenzy of fury, she finally allowed herself to crawl up into bed and bask in her own self-pity, still sniffling to herself before slipping into a dreamless sleep.
Not even a day after the announcement of war, a pink letter was pushed under her doorframe from an unknown sender.
Part of Vi never wanted to open the letter. She wanted to burn it and watch the pages turn brown and disintegrate, rip it into a million pieces and throw it into the wind, or grab the sender and shove it right up where the Sun doesn’t shine.
Even as she opened it with trembling fingers, a deep part of her prayed it wasn’t what she was expecting, that someone had made a clerical error in her enrolment and that it was just a letter about the weather or some shit like that.
Vi had read the draft call over and over and over at her desk. Each word burned into her mind, sharp, twisting daggers degrading her again and again in each paragraph, hoping that on each run through she’d find a loophole or something to get her out of her inevitable fate.
On the third read, she’d slid a dusty bottle of whisky out from under her bed and started swigging the flaming liquid straight, the scorching sensation burning her tongue and throat as it went down dry. It took her getting half a bottle deep before she finally accepted what she’d been examining for the past hour, realisation finally starting to settle in.
She was going to war, a war Piltover didn’t even fucking start, and there was nothing she could do in her power to stop it.
The life Vi had built herself started to crumble down right in front of her eyes. Going to classes, slacking off with friends, her time with Caitlyn, all blurred into a distant memory. Everything she’d worked and trained so hard for, gone.
In a drunken haze, Vi had finally plucked up the courage to pick up her phone and dial the first contact that came swirling into her mind.
The line rang a few times before a receiver clicked on the end. Heavy, disgruntled breathing could be heard on the other end, but no words were spoken.
Vi finally cut the silence short and spoke into the phone. “Hey, Dad.”
***
Crossing over from Piltover to Zaun had always been a nightmare. With both countries now actively at war, the journey had become even worse.
Every border checkpoint’s staff had been ramped up, replaced with more experienced soldiers and officers, who checked over every piece of paperwork with an eagle eye and would turn people away for the slightest inconsistency in someone’s story.
The checkpoints had been slightly easier for Vi to pass through, flashing her military identification every time she was asked for her papers, even seeing a hint of sympathy in some of the younger soldiers’ eyes as they realised she was from the Piltover Military Academy. It was still a much longer procedure than normal, however, and part of her wondered if her journey would even be worth it at the end.
These doubts were solidified more as she sat across from her father in his dingy one bedroom apartment, nursing a small cup of coffee which had since gone cold.
Vincent Vanderson was a hunk of a man, dwarfing the small dinner table which he sat in front of. He was resting his greying unkept beard in a giant meaty fist, not looking up at Vi, drawing circles on the surface absentmindedly with his finger.
“How’s the Last Drop doing?” Vi asked, desperately trying to cut the awkward silence between them both.
He looked up at her, heavy grey irises observing his daughter across from him. “The Piltover location is doing well. Lets me keep the drink prices low here,” he responded in a monotone voice.
“Yeah.” Vi chuckled dryly. “Everyone loves the Last Drop there. You should see it on a Saturday night, it’s-“
“Why are you here, Violet?” he questioned suddenly, still keeping his eyes trained on her.
His daughter stayed quiet for a moment, shocked to hear her full name again after such a long time since last hearing it. “You know why,” she said back coldly.
“You made your choice,” Vander growled. “Now you need to face the consequences of your actions.”
“My actions?” Vi snapped. “I didn’t know-“
“You made your choice!” he snapped angrily, shooting out of his seat with such force it knocked his chair over. “You all did. You, your brothers, your sister. If this is life’s way of teaching you to think before you do, then so be it!”
“What the fuck has gotten into you?” Vi had stood up from her seat as well, planting one hand on her table and using the other to point a finger in her Dad’s face.
Vander slapped his palms on the table. “Watch your damn mouth!” he boomed. “Do you think this is easy for me? Every single one of you left me and didn’t even think twice! First you, then your brothers, and now Powder’s done the same! And now-“ his voice suddenly broke, a choked sob escaping from his throat, “-now you might not come home at all.”
Vi’s hardened glare softened almost instantly. Without another word, she walked around the table and shoved her face into Vander’s chest, allowing the larger man to wrap his arms around her in a strong hug.
Guilt ate Vi alive as she took the opportunity to soak in how her Dad was living. Empty beer bottles and discarded fast food boxes littered the apartment, and there was a large stack of untouched dirty dishes piling up in his sink. He’d become a hollow shell of the great man he once was.
“I’m scared, Dad,” Vi managed. For a moment she felt five years old again, crying in Vander’s arms after she’d had a nightmare or after a bad day at school.
“I know, kiddo,” he replied softly, wrapping his arms further around it.
“How did you do it?” Her voice quivered as she asked, eyes threatening to spill yet another barrage of tears.
“Do what?” Vander pulled away to get a better look at his daughter.
“In the Great War, when Zaun and Piltover were fighting. How did you survive?”
Vander furrowed his bushy eyebrows and shook his head. “I had people to come home to,” he said gently. “People to fight for. That’s all I thought about.”
Vi nodded and licked her dry lips. Her jaw tensed as she realised the other stop she’d need to make during her visit to Zaun. “Do you have Powder’s address?”
Vander pulled away from the embrace and dug around in one of the kitchen drawers, producing a small piece of crumpled paper. He handed it over to Vi and she read the words carefully.
“I haven’t seen her in a while,” he explained, plopping back down into his chair. “She’s kind of just doing her own thing now. I don’t know if you’re a face she’ll want to see.”
“I don’t care.” Vi stuffed the slip into her pocket, eyes full of determination, before retrieving her coat from the back of her chair.
Before exiting the apartment, she took one last moment to look at Vander, her eyes meeting the weathered face of a tired, defeated old man.
“Dad?”
“Yes, Violet?”
“I love you. I’ll come home to you.”
“I love you too, kiddo. I know you will.”
With their final exchange, Violet Vanderson left her father once again.
***
Powder’s address was only a couple blocks away from where she’d seen her father, and Vi took the opportunity to soak in the Zaunite streets one final time. These were the roads she’d grown up on; playing out with the other street kids, their echoing laughter carrying down alleyways and turns, going home when the sun went down and coming out as soon as it rose again. Those simpler times felt so much more distant now, a foggy memory slowly fading into black.
Growing up in Zaun was something Vi never wanted to bring up in conversation. She had no shame in her upbringing- Vander did an amazing job as her adoptive father, raising three other children as well as herself, and she’d largely got through childhood without being in any major trouble. The reluctance laid more with how people viewed those who were born Zaunite: how quickly their tone towards you changed, how they were suddenly checking they still had all their jewellery, all of a sudden remembering they had somewhere else to be that wasn’t talking to you.
It was a lesson Vi had learnt at a young age, and carried all the way with her into adulthood. A nagging voice at the back of her mind to never bring up the topic of nationality, and to quickly change the subject if it ever arose in conversation. Deep down she knew it would come back to haunt her one day in some form or another, a ghost of her past worming itself back into her life, but she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.
Her legs had taken her to a rundown apartment block, and Vi had to double check that the address she found herself at was the same one Vander provided. What the hell had Powder done with her life to end up in a dump like this?
Entering the building, she located Powder’s flat, and knocked three times on the door. The air inside stunk of damp and mildew as Vi scanned the other doors running down the long corridor of Powder’s floor, each one as neglected and exhausted as the next.
A face appeared in the doorway which sent a shockwave deep into Vi’s core. All of a sudden, she was 12 years old again, thrown straight back out onto the streets she was just walking down.
“Vi! Hey, I didn’t know you were coming!” A friendly grin spread across Ekko Lane’s lips as he stepped aside to let Vi into the apartment.
Ekko had grown up down the street from Vi and Powder. As kids, they were always at each other’s houses, sleeping over whenever they were allowed, staying out late to torment police officers and getting themselves into all sorts of mayhem. As they grew older, Ekko had gotten closer to Powder and soon only started seeing her, leaving Vi in the company of her brothers, abandoned yet again.
Vi knew Powder and Ekko were close; she didn’t realise they were this close.
“Hey, Little Man,” she greeted wearily. Surprise still hung heavy in her words. “I didn’t know you lived here.” Had Vander given her the wrong address after all?
“Powder’s just getting ready, I’ll call her down for you,” he explained before cocking his head back and shouting. “Pow! You got a visitor!”
Two skinny legs, followed by a slim torso and a tuft of bright blue hair, came bundling down the stairs in front of them, small hands inserting earrings into the lobes of her ear. “If it’s Mr Coleman, tell him I’ll have his damn rent money-“ The younger Vanderson sister was cut off by the sight of Vi standing awkwardly in the entrance of the apartment. Powder’s jaw dropped, her mouth agape, before her expression twisted angry and aggressive. “What the fuck is she doing here? Did you fuckin’ call her?”
“What?” Ekko furrowed his eyebrows, raising his palms defensively. “No, I thought you-“
“Hey, Pow-Pow.” Vi spoke gently, hands burrowed deep into her pockets, taking a couple steps towards her sister. “It’s been a while.”
“And again, what the fuck are you doing here?” Powder balled her fists. Her earrings she had previously been fiddling with dropped to the floor by her feet.
“You’ve seen the news, right?” Vi asked.
“Yeah,” Powder trailed off. There was a hint of confusion in her tone as she crossed her arms over her chest. “So what?”
It took the younger Vanderson a couple of moments for the dots to connect within her mind. Vi saw the exact moment in her eyes when the pin dropped, and the realisation of the nature of her visit finally hitting her.
“No,” Powder growled lowly. Her lips curled into a snarl.
“Pow, come on, let’s talk-“
“No, no, no, no, no!” Powder abruptly barrelled to her older sister, priming back open-palmed hands as she launched a barrage of slaps across Vi’s shoulders, arms and wrists. Her teeth gnashed together in bites of fury.
“Powder, please,” Vi pleaded as her sister continued pummelling hits onto her. She reached her arms up slowly, enveloping Powder into a hug, and her younger sister thrashed and fought in her grip before finally settling down with a choked sob.
Placing a hand into her electric blue hair, Vi allowed Powder to cry into her chest, holding her tight as tears began wetting and staining her top. Ekko had dismissed himself to the bathroom to give the girls some space, and Powder wallowed in her older sister’s arms, big ugly sobs escaping from the cracks between Vi’s large arms.
“You’re an idiot,” Powder managed between weeps.
“I know,” Vi whispered in response.
“You can’t die,” Powder said through gritted teeth, clutching her sister’s clothing tightly.
Vi felt her guts drop deep in her stomach as she heard that. A dull ache spread through her chest. “I know.”
The eldest sister pulled away from their embrace and pressed their foreheads together, closing her eyes, feeling Powder’s hot panting breath against her face. “I’m sorry I’ve not been around, Pow. But I’ll come back to you. I always have and always will.”
Powder stayed silent. She’d accepted her defeat, the energy slowly draining from her body.
“I need you to look after Dad for me, okay?” Vi continued. The breath in her throat hitched as she struggled the words out. “You need each other, even if you both refuse to admit it.”
“Okay,” Powder managed to say.
“I’ll come back to you. I promise. I’ll come back.”
Vi repeated the mantra as if convincing herself too.