Out of Focus
This wasn’t the way Vi wanted to meet Caitlyn’s parents again.
She knew it was a bridge she’d have to cross eventually, whether it be still during wartime or after. Maybe in a neutral environment, like a restaurant or a bar, or perhaps they were the type of family to take their potential future heirs away for a week on holiday to see what they were really like.
Vi had pictured bouts of silence as Tobias and Cassandra thought of what questions to berate her with next. The awkward stand-off of who would pick up the bill for dinner. Whether to order beer or stick with the safe option of tap water.
Standing by their side and watching helplessly as medics darted around the body of their daughter, swapping out countless bags of fluids and hooking new ones in, changing bandages and dressings, nurses coming to take readings and look at endless charts, was not one of the scenarios Vi had thought about. Not once. Which was stupid, given their line of work, but ignorance was bliss.
After Caitlyn had been wheeled away for her third surgery, where the doctors had explained they were going to attempt to re-attach her rotator cuff and hopefully allow her a larger range of movement when she woke up, her parents finally spoke to Vi.
Tobias popped the question, as they sat in the makeshift waiting room of the field hospital on uncomfortable plastic chairs.
“How did it happen, Violet?”
Those simple words were all it took for the memories to come crashing back to her.
Vi’s heavy boots sinking into the soft ground as she sprinted back to the helicopter, Caitlyn cradled tightly bridal-style in her arms.
Hot thick crimson liquid seeping through her fingers as she pressed down on her captain’s shoulder and eye, a feeble attempt at stifling the bloodflow.
The desperate scrabble as she flicked through radio frequencies, searching for anyone, anyone, anywhere, who would accept a military medevac.
Engine screaming, pistons flailing as the pilot pushed her chopper to its limits, closing in on the Army of Piltover emergency field hospital which had been set up only a few clicks west of their location. If the Huey could ever break the sound barrier, or if there was a world record for fastest old-generation helicopter speed ever recorded, it would have been that day.
And the blood. Oh, the blood.
The entire floor of the Huey’s passenger bay was red. Slick and slippery, not an inch of bare metal shining through. Vi’s hands had been covered with it too. No matter how hard she scrubbed, how much soap she used, scouring until her skin was raw and sore, she just couldn’t get it out.
A team of medical staff had been waiting for their arrival; Caitlyn had been carted off as soon as they touched down. Mr and Mrs Kiramman were called shortly afterwards and were on the next flight out.
Vi told them everything in that waiting room. Fuck operational security. Heimerdinger had made sure of that when he threw them both to the dogs. Cassandra was bound to read up on it at some point anyway, in the next military update report or whatever the pen-pushers used to keep up with what was happening on the frontlines.
She told them about Heimerdinger. How his snidey double-cross move had nearly cost them both their lives. How Deckard and Nolen had been neutralised, and what Vi had done to Ambessa on the beach.
At the mention of the warlord’s name, a few of the hospital staff had paused to listen in. Under any other circumstances, Vi would have told them to buzz off or pulled Cassandra and Tobias aside into a private room to continue their conversation, but she didn’t care anymore. She just didn’t care.
There was only one person she cared about now. And that person was thirty feet away from her with her body cut open and had doctors digging around inside her.
After Vi had explained everything, every detail she thought that the parents of her girlfriend ought to know, Cassandra broke the silence. This came as a shock to Vi; she’d not spoken a word upon her arrival to the pilot, and her other conversations with her husband and medics alike had been brief and cut short.
“We didn’t know about any of this.” She spoke softly, as if she were scared of her own voice. The uptight, no-nonsense councillor charade had disappeared. All Vi saw now was a concerned mother. “The council, I mean. Heimerdinger has a duty to inform us of all operations and missions, regardless of their security clearance.”
Vi nodded and intertwined her fingers, leaning her elbows onto her knees. “He didn’t tell you because he didn’t think we’d make it out.”
Cassandra shook her head. “If I know Heimerdinger, he’ll want a trial for this. For disobeying his direct orders.”
Arcs of rage spiked up Vi’s spine. She balled her fists together, jaw feathering. “If he wants a fuck- sorry, ma’am.” She cleared her throat before continuing. “If he wants a damn trial, he can have one.” Her eyes flickered over to Caitlyn’s father. “What are the charts saying, Mr Kiramman?”
“Tobias, please.” He didn’t look up. Tobias had taken copies of all paperwork surrounding Caitlyn’s condition, from simple blood tests to her initial triage and diagnosis. When he wasn’t consulting with the military doctors or watching his daughter, he’d been reading from the large stack he’d accumulated. “Her left eye is gone entirely. There’s zero chance she’ll get the vision back, because there’s no eyeball left to repair. At all.”
He took a deep sigh and flicked the page he was holding over. “There’s a possibility they’ll be able to repair her shoulder to some extent, but given the already existing scar tissue in the area, I imagine she won’t ever gain the full range of motion back.”
Silence. No-one knew how to respond to that. Besides, it was confirming what Vi already knew. She’d watched Cait get shot on all of those occasions; she’d been there for it all. Caitlyn was the strongest person Vi knew, but anyone could see there was no coming back from that.
Without thinking too much before she spoke, Vi asked, “Will she still be able to-“
Before the pilot could finish her question, a doctor entered the waiting room, closing the single tarpaulin slit flat behind her before turning to face the trio. She smiled thinly and placed her hands in front of herself. “I’m pleased to announce the surgery was a success,” she recited. “We were able to re-attach the rotator cuff, and mend all over minor lacerations in the surrounding area. The captain will need extensive physiotherapy, and will most likely never regain her full range of motion, but you’ll be able to take her home-“
Vi didn’t wait to hear the rest of the rundown. She barged straight out of the door and made a beeline for Caitlyn’s room.
Caitlyn was still in her hospital bed, eye shut, but with less fluid bags leading into her this time. A small mesh piece of metal was bandaged tightly over her left eye. The thick dressing that had been covering her shoulder had been replaced by a single sheet of gauze pad from her surgery earlier. A nasal cannula ran from above the captain’s lip and into an oxygen tank parked by her bedside.
Despite her injuries, despite the discolouration to her face and the pale sheen of her cheeks, Vi had never seen Caitlyn look so oddly… peaceful. Sleeping as normal, like the events of the past few days had never happened. Vi always loved watching Caitlyn sleep, because she looked so beautiful yet she was so unaware of it.
Vi dragged a chair up to her bedside. Extended a hand out, enclosed it around Caitlyn’s and squeezed. Felt defeat when her captain didn’t reciprocate.
“Oh, Caitlyn,” was all Vi could manage to say.
***
Caitlyn was floating.
She wasn’t really here, or there, or anywhere. Her body felt weightless, drifting through an eternal abyss, outside stimuli distant and choppy.
There was no scientific answer for what happened after you die. And Caitlyn didn’t like that, because she hated not knowing things.
Perhaps this time around, her luck had finally run out, and she’d have her answer.
Some voices and sensations penetrated her cocoon-like limbo. She heard her name being called, sharp pricks being inserted into her arms, cold unknown liquid shooting up her veins. The senses came and went, fluctuating between being there and grounding then back to being nothing at all.
There was no light at the end of the tunnel. No big bang, no ascension into a greater reality, nothing. Was this really it? What was all the fuss about?
Time moved like thick jelly around her. As the days passed (or it could have been weeks, Caitlyn had no real gauge of the passing at that point), familiar feelings began seeping back to her. Cloth on her skin. Beeping and hissing of machinery. Faint voices, hands moving her body. The putrid overbearing scent of disinfectant. But it was all so disconnected.
Until one day, when the first flicker of real light pierced through her vision, there was a hand. Fingers wrapped around her arm. Someone was trying to move her.
It was Noxus. That was all Caitlyn could think. It was Deckard, or Maddie, or any other Noxian troop, maybe even Ambessa herself, coming back to finish off what they started.
The captain didn’t hesitate. She sprung up from where she’d been laying, reared a fist back, and aimed it square at the person’s throat.
Her bare knuckles missed its target by a mile. Her arm arced through the air pathetically before landing back by her side and she staggered forward, legs threatening to give out beneath her.
But Caitlyn was back on the attack relentlessly. She swung another hand at the attacker, the realisation that she was unable to lift her other shoulder only setting in when a pair of powerful arms wrapped around her from behind and pinned her appendages in.
“Cait, stop!” a voice behind her called – the same person that had bound her. The faint smell of lemongrass lingered on their skin.
Caitlyn flailed her legs around, struggling against the hold, thrashing like a fish out of water. “Get off of me!” she wailed. Her shoulder was really starting to burn and ache now, like someone was poking it with hot irons.
“Caitlyn, it’s me, calm down!” Those same arms flung her around and the captain looked down.
It was her pilot. Vi, her eyes blown wide with concern, still clutching onto her arms like she might try for round three. Caitlyn took a moment to look over her shoulder; there wasn’t a Noxian soldier in the room with them. It was a lady in a damn nurse’s uniform.
“Get her parents,” Vi rushed to the nurse, who scuttled out of the room as Vi rounded on Caitlyn again. “It’s okay, Cait, you’re back home. You’re safe.”
“Violet?” Caitlyn stammered. Her throat was hoarse and dry.
“Yeah, baby, it’s me,” the pilot said soothingly. “Just-“ her jaw tightened, “just sit down, please. There’s a lot we need to talk about.”
Vi let go of the other officer’s arms, and Caitlyn dropped back onto her bed, reaching around to touch where her shoulder was sore. Her fingers met scratchy bandages wrapped tight. “Ambessa?” was all she could think to ask.
“Gone,” Vi replied tightly. She sat down softly on the bed next to Cait, placing a hand over hers. “Cait, Ambessa’s gone. We did it.” The pilot’s jaw muscles flittered again as she tried to find her words. “There was an accident, though. On the beach. Do you remember?”
Before Caitlyn could even attempt a recall of the events, the door burst open, and two figures swarmed in. “Caity!” she heard her father call.
Tobias Kiramman sprinted to her bedside, enveloping his daughter into a tight hug. Caitlyn winced at the contact against her shoulder, but draped her good arm around him nonetheless. Vi shuffled over so that Cassandra could join in, embracing Caitlyn from the other side.
“God, we were so worried,” Tobias cooed, pulling away and brushing his thumb across the side of Caitlyn’s face.
She couldn’t feel the skin-on-skin contact though; there was something in the way, a barrier between her father’s touch and her face.
Caitlyn raised an unsteady hand and felt across her forehead. There was another dressing there, running around from the back of her skull to a thin dome of metal covering her left eye. “What- where’s-“ she began to stutter, fingertips brushing over the bandages nervously.
“Do you remember what happened, Caitlyn?” This came from Vi, who leant across from Cassandra to take Cait’s hand again.
“I got shot in the back.” Absentmindedly the captain’s free hand went to her shoulder. “Then Ambessa and I were on the beach, and now I’m here.”
The mattress shifted as Tobias shuffled off of it, gesturing for his wife to do the same. For once in their marriage, she listened to him. “I think it’s best if you have this conversation with Violet, Caitlyn,” he said gently. “We’ll be just down the hall if you need us.”
With that, they departed, leaving the two in awkward silence as they watched Casandra and Tobias slip through the door.
As soon as they were gone, Caitlyn rounded on Vi again. “What the fuck happened?” she snapped, anger suddenly surging through her. “What happened to my face, Vi?”
The pilot kept her cool. She licked her lips, pausing as she searched for the right terms. “You weren’t just shot in your shoulder, Cait,” she explained slow and low. “Ambessa had a gun to your head too, when I got to you. You pushed her away, but-“ she inhaled a shuddery breath, “-she pulled the trigger at the last second.”
“Okay.” The captain furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head in disbelief. “Okay, but I’m not dead, I’m here, so what happened?”
Violet just stared at her. There was a deep flame of regret, empathy burning in her eyes, looking into Caitlyn like she was made of fine china.
Finally she spoke.
“Your eye, Cait. She took your eye out.”
***
The road of recovery made Caitlyn feel more vulnerable and helpless than she’d ever been in her life. And she hated every second of it.
For someone who had been out cold for the better part of a week, her body still felt like it could do with a couple extra days laid up in bed. Which is exactly what she did. Partly physical, partly psychosomatic, she didn’t have the energy for anything.
The adaption to her altered depth perception was the first thing she’d noticed with her new injury. Every object seemed so far away, and when she went to grab it, her fingers just swiped at the air inches away from their target. Plenty of glasses of water and bowls of food had been knocked over in the process of adjustment to her new way of living.
Caitlyn’s shoulder was starting to bug her, too. The pain was manageable; it wasn’t her first time getting shot, and certainly not the first time she’d sustained such a flesh wound, but the limited range of motion meant independent tasks such as washing and dressing were off limits until the muscles had healed properly.
In the space of a week, Caitlyn had gone from being one of the most formidable, hard-headed, self-reliant officers the Army of Piltover had ever seen, to someone who couldn’t even brush her damn hair without help.
She didn’t ask her pilot to stay. Vi had family of her own to catch up with, to look after, to make sure they were safe.
But she stayed nonetheless.
She’d heeded to Caitlyn’s beck and call every single time. She’d washed her hair for her in the shower, changed her dressings, reminded her to take her antibiotics, even brought Caitlyn cups of tea without her asking (Cait really, really hated the way Vi made tea, it was always too milky or too watery, but she daren’t say anything). Held her tight in the night when the tears came. Got her outfits out in the morning and helped her get into them, even if she wasn’t actually going anywhere but to the toilet and back for the day.
There was a selfish part of Caitlyn that actually enjoyed Violet taking care of her. As powerless as it made her feel, Vi was such a natural caregiver, and it was nice to share brief moments of peace after 20 months of pure Hell.
After two weeks of bedrest, Caitlyn had mustered the strength to take breakfast with her family. Vi had helped her down the stairs, without needing to be asked, and helped her into her seat across from Cassandra at the head of the table.
The househands had prepared a glorious spread of all of Cait’s favourites: crispy salty bacon cooked to perfection, sunny-side up eggs, freshly squeezed orange juice, toasted sourdough bread, enough pancakes to feed a small army. Vi assembled a plate for Caitlyn and slid it across to her before piling some onto her own.
Cait nodded a small thanks before tucking straight into her eggs. The thin membrane atop the yolk burst and dribbles of yellow spilled across her plate. The sound of cutlery scraping against porcelain filled the air.
“How are you feeling this morning, Caitlyn?” Cassandra asked between mouthfuls of food.
Cait tilted her head to the side and hummed. “Better than yesterday,” she replied simply.
The councillor nodded, spreading a dollop of butter across a slice of toast. “Have you given any thought as to who you’d like to represent you at the trial?” she questioned delicately.
The captain dropped her silverware, frowning. “Oh, so there is going to be a trial?” she growled.
“That’s the word from the council, yes,” her mother replied, unfaltering. “So, have you chosen a lawyer? Or would you like me to ask around? I have plenty of contacts in the field.”
Caitlyn’s gaze dropped down to her food, avoiding Cassandra’s prying eyes. Her appetite dried up instantly. “I have an idea of who I want, but thank you, mother.”
Vi cleared her throat and leant in over her plate. “Um, sorry to interrupt, but is that not a decision we should make together, Cait?”
Cait looked over at her deadpan. “Do you know any lawyers, Violet?”
The pilot went red and drew her lips into a thin line, suddenly feeling very stupid. “No I do not.”
“Then just trust me. Please.” Her captain gave her a quick smile before taking a sip of orange juice.
The table fell into a comfortable silence again, the only sounds in the room being that of munching and crunching and knives and forks raking against plates. It was a glimpse of normalcy, back to old times, just a happy family enjoying their morning meal together.
That was until Caitlyn asked the question that had been playing on everyone’s minds. One that was going to be brought up at some point, it was just a matter of when and how.
“When can I start shooting again?”
A pindrop could be heard. No-one moved, frozen in their previous position, unsure of what to say next.
Everyone knew how much shooting meant to Caitlyn. It was what had got her her scholarship to the Piltover Military Academy, her specialism in the army, the only hobby she’d kept up with from her youth. She kept a spare rifle in her bedroom, for goodness’ sake. It wasn’t just a pastime; it was her lifeline.
Tobias, the only person in the room actually qualified to give medical advice, coughed awkwardly. “Caity, maybe we should talk about this another time.”
“Fuck that,” Caitlyn spat, jumping up from her seat. The feet of her chair dragged against the floorboards loudly. “I want to know when I can shoot again.”
Cassandra opened her mouth to scold her, presumably for her foul language at the dining table, but Cait jutted a finger at her. “I don’t want to hear anything from you, either. I want to hear it from Dad.” She turned her eye to her father, a silent plea. “Please tell me I can still shoot.”
Tobias looked up at her, eyebrows upturned forgivingly. He huffed a sigh and set down his silverware. “Caitlyn, you’re left-side dominant with your shots. You’d have to switch stance entirely. Even if you shot from your right-side, your depth perception will never be the same, and any rifle kickback runs the risk of damaging your shoulder again. Perhaps it’s time to think about-“
Caitlyn didn’t wait for him to finish. She didn’t want to hear the rest, no matter how bad she needed to hear the ugly truth. Slamming her glass down, she stormed out of the dining room, purposefully slamming the door hard as she went.
Vi’s eyes followed Caitlyn as she stomped out, before turning back towards the Kirammans. She too got up, tucking her chair in as neatly as possible. “I’ll talk to her. Thank you, um, for the breakfast, it was really nice,” the pilot rushed, before turning on her heels and following after her girlfriend.
***
Caitlyn was sitting at one of the decorative iron benches on the Kiramman estate when Vi found her, staring out at the fountain across. Brilliant streams of water arced through the morning air, refracting glinting colourful light to the ground below.
The pilot approached with the mannerism of an EOD expert walking up to a ticking time bomb. She didn’t know what to say, just that she didn’t want to say the wrong thing. Although, in their situation, was there a right thing to say?
She settled down silently, setting a small distance between herself and Caitlyn, who still hadn’t looked in her direction. The captain was rubbing her thumb and index finger together profusely.
“Looks expensive,” Vi muttered, nodding at the fountain ahead. She looked across at her captain, head tilted.
Caitlyn grumbled a response and shrugged. “My mother’s curse was always having more money than taste.”
Sighing, Vi leant back and threw her arms across the back of the bench. “Well, I’m sure if you melted it down it would make a wicked paperweight.”
There was the smallest uptick of a smile at the corner of Caitlyn’s lips, before her face dropped again. “What am I going to do if I can’t shoot, Vi?”
There it was again. Vi had her scissors over the wire and she didn’t have a damn clue what colour to cut. Her gaze shifted, out to the stupid fountain again, watching droplets transcend from the sky.
“When you first picked up the Shimmer case. How many times did you use your rifle during your crime scene investigations?” Vi asked.
Cait frowned and finally looked over. “None, but-“
The other officer cut her off. “And during all our team briefings, our training. How many times did you shoot at us? Or get your gun out?”
She huffed sharply out of her nose. “Never.”
“Exactly.” Vi swallowed and licked her lips, twisting in her seat so her body was facing her captain fully. “You aren’t a good officer because you can shoot, Caitlyn. You’re a good officer and you can shoot. They’re two separate things. Your real strength?” Vi tapped her temple. “It’s all up here. And the army would be stupid to not see that when we go back.” She hesitated for a moment before adding, “That’s if we go back.”
The captain sighed, fiddling with her fingers again. “I know who I want to defend us. She’s an old friend from PMA, graduated last year.”
“An old friend?” Vi cocked an eyebrow.
“Yes, Vi.” Caitlyn huffed a laugh. “Believe it or not, I had friends beside you and Jayce. Anyway, she went into military law. She’s brilliant, but we’ll be her first major case.”
The other officer didn’t say anything for a beat, soaking in Caitlyn’s words. “If you trust her, I trust her, Cait. You know that.”
“Good.” She shuffled over on the bench and wrapped a hand around Vi’s, squeezing tightly before resting her head on her shoulder. “I’ll invite her over for tea so we can go through the case.”
“Sure.” Vi exhaled contently, placing a soft kiss atop Caitlyn’s head, and in that moment wished everything could just go back to how it was when they were eighteen again.