When I Look Into Your Eyes

Scar didn’t even try to soften his words.

“He sounds like an asshole,” he said after Viktor finished talking. “And that’s knowing you’re not telling me everything. But don’t worry,” he added, cutting Viktor off before he could protest, “I get it. I won’t press anymore.”

Viktor let out a quiet laugh before he could stop himself. How could he tell? Was he really that obvious? Had he always been a bad liar, and he just hadn’t realized it until now?

Something about the whole situation struck Viktor as absurdly funny. Maybe it was Scar’s bluntness, the way he spoke without hesitation. Or maybe it was just the relief of finally talking to someone who didn’t dance around things. Either way, the tension in Viktor’s chest eased, even if just a little.

“What are you laughing about?” Scar said, looking at him like he was the strange one. “Just so you know, I’m not joking.”

“I didn’t like that Piltie ‘Man of Progress’ or whatever they called him before and now I like him even less.” Scar crossed his arms, his expression serious.

Viktor swallowed back the automatic urge to defend Jayce, the hundredth time he had stopped himself since Scar had started talking about him.

“And don’t look at me like that,” Scar added, narrowing his eyes trying to appear annoyed. “I don’t care if he’s your partner or whatever, if someone talked to me like that, I’d have to punch them at least once.”

Any trace of amusement faded. Viktor said nothing, the moment no longer feeling light.

Viktor had always known he was difficult to deal with. He buried himself in his work, shut people out without realizing it, and let everything else fade into the background. It wasn’t intentional—it was just a habit formed from years of solitude.

 It was how he had learned to exist. He had grown too used to isolation. Most people had never bothered to befriend him, or even approach him, and over time, that had become his reality. A pattern so deeply ingrained that even now, he struggled to break it.

Except for a few.

Professor Reveck had once taken him under his wing, recognizing his potential, but in the end, it had been short-lived. Then there was Heimerdinger, his mentor for years, the one who had helped him get into the Academy when it should have been impossible for someone like him. 

And Sky— she was someone he had known since childhood, though they had only truly connected after reuniting years later. Their shared background had helped bridge the gap between them.

Viktor had always appreciated their company. He wouldn’t have admitted it at the time, but he had gotten used to being alone, and having Sky and Heimerdinger around had been a welcome change.

Even more so when most of his interactions consisted of people either looking down on him or outright despising him.

But Jayce… Jayce had been different.

For one, Viktor had been the one to approach him. Even when Jayce had at first tried to keep him at arm’s length—understandable, given their peculiar first meeting—Viktor had reached out. Had wanted to understand him, to reassure him. He had spoken to him sincerely, opened up to him. 

He hadn’t even questioned why at the time.

Maybe he should have.

Looking back, it was strange. Sure, Viktor had found Jayce’s theories interesting, the promise of magic tantalizing. But why had he been so willing to make Jayce understand that someone believed in his ideas? in him? 

To make sure he didn’t feel alone?

So yes, Jayce had been different.

Heimerdinger had been his mentor. Someone to talk to about his work, his inventions, his theories. 

Sky had been a friend. Someone he could discuss not just research, but also the realities of the Undercity, their past, their struggles... Conversations he never felt he could have with Heimerdinger—not because he didn’t trust him, but because he knew Heimerdinger simply wouldn’t understand.

But Jayce? Jayce didn’t exactly fit into any of those categories.

He was something else.

Viktor had felt a kinship with him from that very first night—scribbling equations across that chalkboard, ideas bouncing between them under the glow of the stars. It was a connection he couldn’t quite define, so over time, he settled on calling it ‘affection’. He labeled Jayce his partner, his friend, his colleague. These words never felt entirely right, but Viktor was used to seeing the world differently than others, so he never gave it much thought.

Scar’s hand on his shoulder pulled him out of his thoughts.

Viktor blinked, a little disoriented. Lately, he had been getting lost in his thoughts too much—thinking about the past, the present… Himself.

“Sometimes you get really quiet,” Scar said, watching him carefully. “And it’s not your usual ‘I’m thinking about work’ quiet.”

Viktor scoffed, shaking his head, trying to brush it off. Mostly because Scar was still looking at him with concern and Viktor wasn’t sure how to react to that kind of scrutiny.

“You know what I mean,” Scar continued, his gaze dropping to his dust-covered boots. “You look… well, you look sad.”

Viktor froze.

Sad?

He wasn’t even sure how to respond. His mind scrambled for a way to steer the conversation away, but it felt like trying to walk through quicksand—the more he tried to move past it, the deeper he sank. The word had caught him off guard.

Viktor dropped his gaze, fumbling for something to say. He didn’t want to talk about this. Didn’t want to dig any deeper. The past few days had been unbearable enough without adding his own feelings to the list of things to dissect.

Before he could come up with a response, a voice interrupted, cutting through the tension.

“There you are.”

Viktor looked up just as Ekko approached, his steps hurried but not quite running. “I went to your room to look for you and didn’t find you”

Ekko approached, his sharp eyes flicking between Viktor and Scar before settling on Viktor, as if he had been searching for a while but hadn’t wanted to make it obvious. “I need to talk to you.”

Scar, who had been studying Viktor’s expression just moments ago, looked toward Ekko, giving him a brief nod in greeting.

Viktor latched onto the interruption immediately. He pushed himself up from the bench, shifting most of his weight onto his crutch as he straightened. 

"Do you need something?" he asked, his tone a little too brisk.

Ekko raised an eyebrow at the shift in demeanor. "Yeah, I want to talk to you."

“Of course.” Viktor barely gave Ekko a moment to react before gesturing toward the direction he had come from earlier. “Come. We can talk in my room.”

Ekko noticed the urgency in Viktor’s movements, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he simply glanced back at Scar, who simply shrugged before following Viktor.

Scar, still sitting on the bench, didn’t say anything, but Viktor felt his gaze on him, a look Viktor couldn’t quite decipher. There was no accusation in his green eyes, but there was something—an understanding. Like he knew Viktor was dodging their conversation but wasn’t going to call him out on it.

“Sure,” Scar said, getting up from the bench. “Go on, I was gonna check on the kids anyway.”

Viktor hesitated for the briefest moment, but Scar didn’t add anything else. Instead, he simply waved them off. “Don’t let me keep you.”

Viktor didn’t respond. He turned on his heel, leading Ekko toward his room, feeling the weight of Scar’s gaze at his back until they disappeared around the corner.

_____________

Viktor led Ekko inside, shutting the door behind them with a quiet click. As soon as he turned, his eyes swept over the room, and only then did he take in the state of the room.

Papers were scattered across the table, some crumpled, others marked with messy annotations. A few books lay open, others stacked in uneven piles, and tools lay forgotten where he had last left them. The only thing untouched was the bed, its blankets still neatly in place, undisturbed—a clear sign it hadn’t been used in days.

Had he really let it get this bad?

With a small sigh, Viktor moved toward the desk, gathering the loose papers and stacking them into something resembling order, then pulled back the curtains to let what little light there was filter in through the window. Dust danced in the dim glow.

Behind him, Ekko took a seat, glancing over one of the books Viktor had left open. He absentmindedly started flipping through it. His fingers traced over the pages, his eyes skimming the formulas and diagrams scrawled in Viktor’s precise handwriting.

Viktor busied himself finishing the teapot he had set up earlier. He moved with an easy familiarity pouring water, measuring the leaves, setting out two cups. A quiet ritual, one that gave him a moment to breathe.

It wasn’t until he placed the teapot on the table that Ekko finally looked up.

“Sorry, you didn’t have to bother.”

Viktor smiled faintly as he settled into the chair across from him. “Don’t worry.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke, they simply sat in silence. The only sound was the quiet clink of metal against wood as they set down their cups, steam curling into the air. It was rare for either of them to have moments of quiet like this.

Viktor was just beginning to relax, the tension from his conversation with Scar beginning to ease, when Ekko finally broke the silence.

“So…” Ekko started, setting his cup down. His voice was calm, but there was something firm beneath it. “Are you finally gonna tell me what happened, or are we just gonna keep playing the ‘pretend everything’s fine’ game?”

Viktor exhaled slowly, eyes dropping to the tea in his hands. He didn’t need to ask what Ekko was referring to. He already knew what he meant.

The council meeting, why he never spoke about what happened before leaving Piltover, his overall attitude since his return.

Viktor had known this conversation was inevitable. But that didn’t mean he wanted to have it. So, he tried to deflect.

“I am afraid you will have to be more specific,” Viktor said, taking another sip of his tea, his tone as neutral as he could manage.

Ekko gave him a flat, unimpressed look.

Viktor let out another breath, this one heavier, setting his cup down carefully. He could already tell that avoiding the conversation wasn’t going to work—not with Ekko.  

Viktor leant forward slightly, his fingers curling around the warmth of his cup. His gaze remained fixed on the table, like the words would come easier if he didn’t have to look at Ekko directly.

“The council meeting…” His voice was measured, but there was something tired and bitter lying just beneath the surface. “It went about as well as I told you when I returned.”

Ekko knew this already but still didn’t interrupt. He just waited, letting Viktor speak at his own pace.

“They dismissed our concerns outright. It wasn’t about the people suffering, or the real problems, it was about how it affected them. Their interests.” His grip tightened slightly around the cup. “No one wanted to listen. Not to Vi, not even to Caitlyn… and certainly not to me.”

Ekko sighed, resting his head against his hands, elbows braced on the table. He wasn’t surprised but it still made his stomach twist with frustration.

“We told them about the attacks, about what Silco has been doing, about the way things have been escalating,” Viktor continued. “They listened, nodded along and then nothing.”

“That tracks,” he muttered. “Can’t say I expected anything better.”

Viktor nodded resigned, his gaze still cast downward. 

“What concerns me most is that they seem to be looking for a more… definitive solution.” His voice was quiet. “Their patience is wearing thin. I suspect that means more enforcers. 

He finally lifted his gaze to meet Ekko’s. “And we both know how that usually ends.”

Ekko frowned. Viktor didn’t need to elaborate for him to understand what that meant. More enforcers meant more control. More violence.

Ekko sat back, his fingers tapping absently against his forehead. He had assumed things would get worse before they got better, but he hadn’t realized just how quickly Piltover was ready to escalate things.

As Viktor spoke, his words remained measured, controlled, as if he were simply reporting information rather than something that had clearly shaken him. But Ekko noticed something else, something just as important.

Viktor wasn’t looking at him. And, more than that, he was avoiding something.

Ekko leaned forward, setting his elbows on the table again, his sharp gaze fixed on Viktor.

“And what about your partner?” he asked, his voice casual, but pointed. “He’s part of the council, isn’t he?”

Viktor went quiet.

Ekko had been expecting that. He had already noticed how Viktor hadn’t once mentioned him, hadn’t even said his name.

So he pressed further. 

“You’re mad at him.” It wasn’t a question.

Viktor’s jaw tensed slightly, fingers twitching. He didn’t confirm or deny it. He just looked away.

Ekko let the silence hang for a moment before speaking again, his voice quieter now. “Did he not help you?” His brow furrowed. “For what I heard about him from you and Caitlyn, I thought he would be an ally.”

Viktor didn’t lift his. His eyes fixed somewhere on the table, but his grip on his cup had gone rigid.

Ekko waited.

Viktor didn’t answer.

He let out a slow breath, his fingers once again tracing absent patterns along the rim of his cup.

“He did help.” The words felt strange in his mouth—true, yet incomplete. After a pause, with a quieter voice, he continued. “But in the end, we had… different ideas about what hextech was meant to be. About what we were trying to accomplish.” 

Ekko didn’t say anything, just watched him carefully.

Viktor hesitated, searching for the right words, but the weight in his chest made it difficult to even try.

“I believed we were working toward something greater. I thought we wanted the same thing. But I guess I was wrong”

Ekko let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair. “Welcome to the club.”

The words weren’t mocking, just… tired. Knowing.

For a few moments, neither of them spoke, the silence stretching between them. Then, Ekko shifted slightly, his expression turning more serious. “Can I be honest with you?”

Viktor finally looked up. He took in Ekko’s expression and then simply nodded.

Ekko’s fingers tapped restlessly against the table. He exhaled sharply.

“I don’t know what to do.” 

Viktor didn’t immediately respond, waiting for him to continue.

“Jinx is awake.” 

Viktor blinked, his brows drawing together slightly in surprise, though he didn’t comment. He had only heard bits and pieces about Jinx, enough to know she was Vi’s sister and that she was dangerous. But he could tell, even from the way Ekko said those two words, that there was more to it than that.

Ekko stared at the ceiling for a moment before speaking again.

“She’s stable. Vi’s with her now,” His voice was quieter now, but there was something raw beneath it. Something fragile.

“But beyond that? We’re stuck. We can’t let her go, but we can’t keep her tied up here forever either.”

Ekko’s frustration was clear, but so was the conflict in his voice.

“We’re okay for now but what should we do once she gets better?” He continued, his jaw clenching. “Once she’s completely healed… then what?”

There was a long pause before Ekko admitted, almost reluctantly, “I don’t even know why I saved her.”

His fingers curled into his palm.

Viktor didn’t react with surprise. He didn’t judge him for the confession either. Instead, he simply asked, “What do you think she will do?”

Ekko frowned slightly.

“If you let her go, I mean” Viktor clarified.

Ekko opened his mouth, then closed it again. He had no answer.

Viktor studied him for a moment, quiet. He didn’t say it aloud, but a thought crossed his mind and he wondered—was Ekko more afraid of her leaving? Or what it would mean if she stayed?

For a while, neither of them spoke. The quiet settled around them save for the faint hum of the Hexcore pulsing behind him. Viktor’s gaze drifted to it, the glow seeping through the fabric in slow, rhythmic flickers. He knew he couldn’t keep avoiding this.

His fingers tightened on his crutch. He had been debating for days now, his mind running in circles, wondering if he should speak up or let it be. Part of him wanted to wait, to find a better moment. But he knew better than anyone how quickly things could spiral out of control. 

Better to get ahead of it now than to let it fester into a bigger problem. Better to explain his reasons himself, rather than be caught and blamed for hiding something when that had never been his intention.

He exhaled, finally breaking the silence. “Maybe this will only add to your worries,” he started, his voice low, “but I don’t want to keep it from you.”

Reaching down, he pulled the worn bag closer. Ekko’s brows furrowed, watching as Viktor carefully unfolded the fabric to reveal what was inside. 

The Hexcore.

The moment it was exposed, its strange, eerie glow pulsed faintly, casting shifting lights across the table. Viktor saw Ekko’s expression shift between curiosity and wariness.

“In fact,” Viktor continued, watching Ekko closely, “I wanted to bring this up sooner but you were too busy and I…” He hesitated, exhaling sharply. “I didn’t want to go to Heimerdinger first. I needed to talk to someone who might be more… objective.”

Ekko didn’t reach for it immediately, though his gaze remained locked onto the pulsing device. 

“Don’t touch it directly,” Viktor warned. “I did it once, and I passed out. Had… strange dreams about it, too.” He leaned back slightly, lips pressing into a thin line. “So, I wouldn’t recommend it”

Ekko raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue.

Instead, the first thing he asked was, “Why’d you take it?” There was no accusation in his tone.

Viktor blinked.

Not ‘what is it?’ Not ‘how does it work?’ But why.

He exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. At least Ekko hadn’t misread his intentions, hadn’t assumed Viktor had planned this from the start or had some hidden agenda.

Ekko crossed his arms, waiting for an answer. “I mean, you weren’t exactly planning on robbing Piltover blind when you left with us, right? So what changed?”

Viktor shifted. “I, eh…” he stopped for a second, choosing his words carefully. “It wasn’t my intention at first but after the meeting… after seeing their reactions, I couldn’t leave something like this in Piltover’s hands.”

Ekko tilted his head slightly. “How did you even get it out?” His gaze flickered to the Hexcore now gently hovering at the center of the table.

Viktor exhaled, shifting the grip on his crutch “I know how to be discreet, and I, eh… know the Academy well enough.” He gave a small shrug. “I took a different route to get out. No one gave me more than a passing glance. So… it wasn’t difficult.”

Ekko studied him for a moment before simply saying, “Huh.”

Viktor allowed himself a faint smirk. “You’d be surprised how easy it is to go unnoticed when no one ever pays you much attention.”

Ekko absorbed that quietly, then glanced back at the Hexcore. “Alright,” he said. “Then what now?”

Viktor hesitated. He had expected this question, but he still didn’t have a clear answer. His fingers drummed lightly against the crutch’s hand grip before he stilled them. His eyes stayed fixed on the Hexcore, watching its glow pulse like a slow heartbeat.

“I know it can be used for something good,” he admitted. “I was running tests in Piltover before everything happened. There’s potential here, I’m certain of it. It could help improve things for people here. It’s just…” He shook his head slightly. “I don’t know how yet.”

Ekko hummed thoughtfully, but didn’t interrupt.

“The last time I asked Heimerdinger about it he said it should be destroyed,” Viktor continued. “But now… now that he’s seen more, now that he understands the situation a little better, maybe he’ll be open to another perspective.” He looked up at Ekko. “And with a mind like yours helping, maybe we can figure out how to use it while keeping it in a controlled environment.”

For the first time in a while, Ekko didn’t have an immediate response.

He looked between Viktor and the Hexcore, considering.

The device pulsed softly, casting faint, shifting lights across the table and the nearby walls, the weight of the decision hanging between them.