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Caitlyn was unsure if Vi slept anymore.
She’d been too preoccupied to care as of late, in all honesty, rightfully haunted by her greatest failure; the one that had cost her mother’s life, enough to drive her towards her revenge. Her drive in the search for Jinx was fuelled by hatred and grief, and the only thing that kept her toeing the thin line between justice and her own self-destruction. She needed it like she needed air, certain that, without it, she would grow lost in their unfamiliar new world, stained by spray paint and the cackling laughter of a blue haired monster. In the wake of the attack on the council, she’d been left with that hatred and that hatred alone to fill the chasm in her chest; that, and the pink-haired girl who’d stuck to her side through it all, tossing her own problems aside to keep Caitlyn teetering on the brink.
Vi had not let her fall yet, expending all she had to keep Caitlyn from collapsing into her own personal pit of despair, and she’d gone thankless for it. Caitlyn had not yet had the strength to correct such an oversight.
As their searches for Jinx continued, it was rare that Caitlyn would find herself back in her own bed in Piltover, and despite everything there was a comfort when she did. Though half of what had made her home ‘home’ had been snatched from her, the illusion of safety still blanketed it; easing the horrors from her mind, allowing her eyelids to slip closed with far greater ease than she’d become accustomed to. She supposed that was why Vi tried to force her into it as much as she could physically manage, taking on Caitlyn’s health as an added weight to her likely already overwhelming load. Vi would stock the Kiramann house’s cupboards while Caitlyn was at meetings and her father lay somewhere grieving, have a meal ready by the late hour Caitlyn returned and watch to ensure she ate it.
She’d guide Caitlyn to shower, wash her hair with a gentleness unfamiliar to such rough fingers, let them both pretend the former’s tears were lost in the water spray. She’d smalltalk, something Caitlyn had never heard her do until recently, filling the silences Caitlyn could not with empty, useless words until the air began to warm around them. It eased some fraction of the tension in her, just enough to allow her to rest for a while; to soak in the luxury of forgetfulness until the morning stole it from beneath her. With Vi’s warm hands in her hair, cupping her breasts, smoothing a hand along the planes of her stomach so tenderly, she could pretend nothing was amiss for a brief moment, as if they’d been brought together by something other than war and that it wouldn’t soon tear them apart.
If they were outside of the bathroom and Caitlyn no longer had an alibi, Vi would soothe her tears with that same unfamiliar tenderness, whispers like a balm to the wounds Jinx had left upon her, momentarily silencing her racing mind. She’d dress Caitlyn in soft pyjamas, gently manoeuvre her beneath the cool duvet on her bed and lay down beside her as she continued to stem the other’s cries with that uncharacteristic kindness. Not uncharacteristic, that was the wrong word; unearthed might be a better word for it, something long lost, long buried. It was the kindness that kept her seeing Powder in Jinx, making Vi hesitate in the crucial moment no matter the consequences. It was that kindness that kept Caitlyn in check when she was consumed by the yawning maw of her grief.
It was more than kindness, however, that kept Vi by Caitlyn’s side; the former was lost, caught between two warring worlds in a manner that could not be rectified. She had no home in Zaun, where Silco’s old goons would stop at nothing to fetch the pride of her head on a spike. Aside from Caitlyn, she was valued as a tool rather than a human, of no use when her fists weren’t swinging in Piltover’s favour. Though Vi had found a role, a purpose, it was not one she felt desire or even pride for; no, it was a role she’d shouldered out of necessity, no matter her personal feelings about the matter. She’d let go of the childish wish for a family long ago and resigned herself to avenging the integrity of Caitlyn’s, no matter how it pained her. Perhaps, between the two of them, Vi was the one who’d lost herself the most.
Even if they lay together for hours on end, Caitlyn sunk into the muscled flesh of the pink-haired girl’s arms as Vi consoled her, Vi never once got under the covers herself. She dressed herself in the plain shirts and trousers Caitlyn had bought her in a haze, the day after her mother’s murder as her body lay somewhere cold, needing a distraction from the fresh wounds carved into her soul. They were all Vi had, along with a uniform that disgusted her and gauntlets that marked her only worthy purpose, but that thought never once seemed to cross the short-haired girl’s mind. Or, perhaps it did; Caitlyn wouldn’t know anymore.
It was as if Vi believed herself unworthy to truly share the bed with Caitlyn, despite the kisses they’d shared, despite how they’d touched one another, laying chilled in her thin clothes as the breeze from the perpetually open window. By morning, she’d be sat on the windowsill or preparing a breakfast as best she could with the unpracticed skills seven years in prison had left her with. Caitlyn noticed, of course she did; she was a trained enforcer, one of the best for a reason; but not once did she think on it any further. Not when Caitlyn could offer Vi sullen silence as she dressed in her uniform, the other girl following suit without protest. Never once did she use the comfort she’d offered as leverage, nor did she protest Caitlyn’s behaviour, and that was reason enough to leave it be when Caitlyn’s rage had returned with a vengeance.
Nightmares were her only insight into how Vi acted when Caitlyn’s eyes were not on her, when Caitlyn could catch the former wiping her own eyes, having momentarily succumbed to her own pain. That was forgotten immediately once Caitlyn shot up screaming, and the latter was only offered a glimpse of how Vi was really feeling, under the pretence she kept up for Caitlyn’s sake. By the time the circumstances aligned to allow such a happening, however, Caitlyn was not usually in a state to do anything about it, heaving shallow breaths with wide, panicked eyes as whatever horrific vision that had woken her lingered behind her eyelids. She was dependent on Vi once again, needing the latter’s embrace to hold her together, needing her comfort to keep her tethered to her duty, and Vi was forced to don the armour she’d hardly allowed herself to shed.
This went on for weeks, then two months, still without Jinx dead or in custody and Caitlyn’s temper growing increasingly volatile. Vi was on the receiving end of it the majority of the time, she made sure of that; dragging Caitlyn away from their team of enforcers and taking the brunt of a abuse she’d done nothing to deserve without complaint. She didn’t leave herself defenceless; she fought back, grew nasty in return until Caitlyn’s foul mood was warranted, but such was an act of mercy alone. Vi grew quieter, more subdued, and Caitlyn pretended it was simply her playing along with their supposed argument. She ignored a lot of things about Vi over those two months.
She ignored the deep purple rings beneath Vi’s eyes, so dark they could be mistaken for makeup. She ignored how lethargic the other girl had grown, sleepwalking through any moments where they weren’t down in Zaun, and even there she’d grown sloppy. Clumsy in her fighting, lacking any on the passion she’d once harboured and often tripping over loose objects or her own feet. It was so unlike her, and yet Caitlyn ignored it, consumed by her goal. When she took down Jinx, she could tend to Vi. When the undercity paid for their crimes, she would say her apologies. When she fixed everything her neglect of duty had allowed her to break, she would fix what she’d broken in Vi.
Then, she began to notice an addition to Vi’s mannerisms; a small, seemingly involuntary jerk of the shoulders, momentarily curling inwards like they were trying to protect her. Perhaps they would have been insignificant had they happened during a fight, when they were all ridiculously on edge, or when she and Caitlyn were arguing. However, that wasn’t the case; it was after, when the bullets stopped flying, when their voices grew hoarse and then quiet. It was then that Vi’s shoulders would spasm, shoot up to her ears or jerk forward, and she’d avoid Caitlyn’s curious gaze with an ashamed manner. There was vulnerability in the action, and she seemed unable to help it; maybe it was the loss of control that made Caitlyn so aware. Maybe she was finally getting her head out of her own ass.
The shoulder spasm was only the first one Caitlyn noticed; the next was a sudden, croaky inhale, almost mistakable for a hiccup if it weren’t for their frequency and how painful they sounded. They were far more noticeable, and often earned Vi questioning or concerned looks, which seemed to only irritate her while simultaneously making them worse. So, their small team collective learned to pretend they didn’t hear them, prioritising the integrity of their mission over the health of one of their own. It was expected; they turned a blind eye to Caitlyn’s grief, giving her the space to deny just how much it was affecting her.
However, Caitlyn struggled to do the same; it was such an unnatural gesture for Vi that she was left unable to ignore it, but also left Vi even more vulnerable to Caitlyn’s irritation. So when they were trying to stealthily scope out one of Silco’s old bases and it was the sound of that sudden hiccuping inhale that gave them away, Caitlyn’s fury had a target to lock on. The moment they’d killed all the goons, and checked for any sign of Jinx, she grabbed Vi bodily by the shoulders and slammed her against the nearest wall. Maddie gasped, stepping forward as if to intervene before Caitlyn gave her a severe look and she seemed to think better of it, resuming her final search of the premises.
Vi’s eyebrows were creased with what could be panic, and her chest hitched silently with more of those sudden inhales. The thought crossed Caitlyn’s mind to strike her and see if they stopped.
“Cait’, I-“
“Jinx could have been here.” Caitlyn interrupted, not allowing her to offer any excuses, “She could have been here, and you would have alerted her. You might be the reason for more innocent people being killed, simply because you can’t manage to stay quiet.”
Vi’s expression twisted briefly with anger before she seemed to school herself, forcing neutrality. Caitlyn wished she’d just stay angry.
“What, were you trying to give Jinx an easy way out? Was that your plan?”
“What? Cait’, no, I wouldn’t-“
“Grow the fuck up, and stop this behaviour, Violet, I’m serious. I won’t have you ruining things for me because of your selfishness.”
With that, she pushed away from the pink-haired girl, ignoring the tear streaking down Vi’s cheek. From that point
on, Vi would hold her breath when she couldn’t control her twitches, or excuse herself for brief stretches of time and return with a resigned, embarrassed smile. Still, she smiled, despite how tired she’d grown, despite how her muscles had begun to deteriorate, poking unnaturally through her flesh with lost weight, weight she’d not long gained after her time in prison. Caitlyn had called her selfish, yet Vi dismissed all her own feelings in favour of Caitlyn, hiding all her vulnerabilities without complaint to keep up the strong front she’d once admitted she hated.
They continued their nights in the same routine, but Vi was quiet, only vocal if spoken to or if Caitlyn was particularly upset. There was no malice in her silence, only a hesitation fear had created; she was scared to speak around Caitlyn, scared to anger her and ruin the delicate peace their evenings allowed. Vi was still there if Caitlyn awoke from a nightmare, but she kept a hesitant distance until the latter pulled her close, like she feared rejection. There was a lost confidence in the pink haired girl, confidence in their closeness fractured, perhaps beyond repair. Caitlyn grieved the ease they’d begun to develop, though it was her own fault it was gone. She’d failed, again.
This time, however, there wasn’t a route to fix it, not when Jinx was still out there, and her mother was still dead. She didn’t have the strength to repair what she was en route to ruining forevermore, not while balancing the duties that had been thrust upon her without preamble. She feared, when she looked at the dullness in Vi’s pale blue eyes that she smiled through so diligently, that she’d lose the other girl forever.
Then, she woke in the middle of the night to the sound of panicked breathing, instantly recognisable as Vi. Her awareness came about inconspicuously enough that the pink haired girl did not notice, but even if she had cried out, Caitlyn was unsure the other girl would have heard. Vi was curled in on herself, hands clutching her head as she sat on the windowsill that had long since become hers to occupy, and her whole body seemed to be rocked with spasms. Caitlyn watched as Vi’s head jerked back violently, once, twice, three times, each looking more painful the last, while her chest heaved with those inhaling gasps Caitlyn had berated her for, so raw and horrible sounding that the latter felt her eyes filling with tears.
Vi was crying, audibly, and between her cries and her involuntary hiccuping breaths, Caitlyn wondered if she could breathe at all. Her head suddenly threw itself forward, hitting the wall with a deafening thump, and her pathetic cry of pain was all too much for Caitlyn. She threw the covers off of herself, grabbing the nearest pillow as she did so. Again, Vi did not seemed to notice, which confirmed Caitlyn’s suspicions that the shorter girl was too preoccupied to notice, but when her foot met the creaking floorboards Vi’s head shot up, eyes wide and terrified and filled with tears. She was blinking hard, hard enough for her entire face to scrunch, and Caitlyn wanted to smack herself for how stupid she’d been.
They were tics, entirely involuntary and Caitlyn had shouted at her for them, blamed her for messing up their mission and made her feel ashamed for them. It had likely worsened because of how Caitlyn had acted about them, she could be the reason that Vi was in the situation she was in now. Vi tried to cover her face, sobbing harder, but her hands seemed to be fighting against her, jerking away from her and shooting in all directions. Just as her head was about to strike the wall one again, Caitlyn darted forwards and held up the pillow against it, keeping her from a possible concussion. She crouched on the floor beside the windowsill, still using both hands to hold the cushion up, and did her best to say something soothing.
“I’m here, it’s alright.” Vi moaned in what sounded like protest, and Caitlyn made a crooning sound, “Shh, it’s okay. Let it out, Vi it’s okay, I’m here. I’m not going to leave you.”
“I- I’m sorry-“
“You have nothing to be sorry about, darling. You’ll be okay, just give yourself a moment. It’s okay.”
Vi’s breath hitched in that horrible painful manner, with a high-pitched whimper, and Caitlyn wanted so badly to embrace her, despite her better judgement. When she tried to wipe Vi’s tears, the short-haired girl’s head jerked back violently, and she didn’t try to do it again. Vi would feel far worse if she mistakenly hurt Caitlyn, and the latter couldn’t take being responsible for the same in return. So she sat there, reassuring Vi as best she could as the pink-haired girl had done for her every night for months. When Vi had held her breath or hidden herself away, had this been what she was dealing with? Such violent, uncontrollable physical outbursts with no one to comfort her, instead facing irritation and lack of understanding.
Caitlyn had made no effort to try and understand Vi’s actions, no matter how obviously involuntary they had been, and instead had lacked care to the point where they’d ended up here. With Vi terrified and in pain and frightened that, of all things, Caitlyn would judge her for it rather than helping her, which she could understand. Now was her chance to fix things, to prove to Vi that no matter what, she would be there for her, and she could be trusted to do so.
Slowly but surely, Vi began to calm, the tics easing after ten minutes or so of whispered reassurances from a measured distance. Caitlyn’s hands began to wipe the tears from Vi’s soft face, too round and babyish for the body it sat on when she finally relaxed, and Vi leant into her with a palpable relief, the muscles around her eyes still twitching. Violet started sobbing in earnest at Caitlyn’s contact, and it only took a moment for the latter to pull her close, letting all of Vi’s weight fall upon her instead.
“I’m sorry I don’t know why this is happening-“
“You’re stressed, Vi,” Caitlyn pressed Vi’s face into her shoulder, not allowing her to pull away. Vi gave up and clutched at her like someone would pull them apart. Like, at any second, Caitlyn might grow tired of her and try to get away.
“You’ve been watching out for me for months, trying to hold me together when I have ten other people trying to do the same thing. Who’s been watching out for you, huh? Certainly not me.” Vi made a weak sound of protest, and Caitlyn tried not to smile, “I’ve watched you struggle and been too consumed by revenge to pay attention to the person who means most to me in the world. I’m here now. You can relax.”
Vi tried to sit up, wet face pressing against Caitlyn’s neck and sending shivers down her spine, and the latter only ran a hand down her back, exasperated by her headstrong ways.
“You needed me, Cait’. I couldn’t just be a baby about things when your mom-“
“And you needed me. My mother dying does not mean you are exempt from needing me in return. For goodness sake, Vi, you haven’t even been out of prison for a year. Of course you’re going to struggle to cope, really you should have had counselling for all the abuse you went through, but instead you were thrust straight back into a war. There’s a bounty on your sister’s head and I won’t stop fucking talking about killing her. I haven’t given you any leeway and even berated you for having tics, which you can’t help. I have treated you awfully, and my mother’s death is far from enough of an excuse.”
Caitlyn was left out of breath in the wake of her outburst, and she let Vi slip out of her arms just to see the expression on her face. She looked as if she was struggling to process Caitlyn’s words, with that endearing crease between her brows she always had when she didn’t quite understand something.
“Tics?” Vi questioned, and Caitlyn was once again rudely reminded of the difference in their upbringing. While she’d been in secondary school, Vi had been in prison. Had Vi ever been to school? That was the sort of question Caitlyn would receive a condescending look for, and send Vi on a rant about the idiocy of Topsiders. Caitlyn cupped her girlfriend’s face once again, smoothing the tension in her forehead with her thumbs.
“Tics are involuntary gestures. That’s why your shoulders jerk or you breathe in hard, no matter how much you don’t want them to. They’re probably happening because of high anxiety, which would make complete sense considering what you’ve been through.”
Vi looked skeptical and Caitlyn couldn’t help but squeeze her face in retaliation, making the shorter girl squirm.
“Is that a real thing?” Vi said, muffled, and Caitlyn resisted the urge to sigh, releasing the other girl.
“Yes, it is. I’ve got a lot to teach you about mental health, huh?”
“No time for mental health in Zaun, cupcake.” This time, Caitlyn did sigh, and Vi smirked, seemingly pleased to have exasperated her.
“Come on, let’s get to bed. We’re taking a break tomorrow.” Vi looked like she was about to protest, and Caitlyn couldn’t help asking “What vendetta do you have against my bed? Not saving yourself for marriage, are you?”
Vi flushed.
“No, I just-“ She glanced between the bed and Caitlyn, looking shifty, “I wanted to give you space. From, er, me.”
Caitlyn tipped her head slightly to one side, confused, and Vi appeared unhappy about having to explain.
“The bad shit that’s happened to you is my fault.” Caitlyn opened her mouth to protest, affronted, but Vi shook her head, “No, Cait’, don’t argue, it’s true. If it weren’t for Pow- Jinx your mom would still be alive, and it was me who wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. Then I’ve stayed in your house, and we work together, so I thought you’d be sick of me. Your dad certainly is.”
She laughed self-deprecatingly, and Caitlyn couldn’t gather her words well enough to respond before Vi continued.
“If I’m taking care of you or comforting you, at least I know I’m doing something, but otherwise you seem like you don’t really want me around, which I understand. So I tried to give you some space, even if it was just at night. Thought you might draw the line at me sharing your bed too.”
“Oh, you silly girl,” As if in defiance, Caitlyn dragged Vi up and onto the bed, the two of them flopping on top of the covers as she pulled Vi close. “I’ve never minded you living here, if anything I like that you fill the space. I’d be lonely otherwise. I’m sorry I didn’t show you that enough. Have you even been sleeping?”
“Yeah, but your windowsill isn’t the comfiest thing ever, cupcake, can’t lie.” Caitlyn frowned guiltily, burying her face in Vi’s choppy hair.
“God, I’m sorry, I’ve truly treated you terribly, Vi. You don’t have to ‘repay’ me by trying to care for me, you don’t owe me anything. Jinx’s actions do not speak for you, nor do those of Zaun. No matter what any of the overprivileged arseholes up here might say, you do not represent the whole of the bottom side. You represent you, and have nothing to account for but your own actions, alright?” Vi nodded, and though Caitlyn couldn’t see her face, she imagined there was a reason for it. Vis had not yet grown out of the habit of trying to disguise all her vulnerabilities.
“You deserve nice things, Vi. You deserve to feel happy, and at the very least you deserve a bed to sleep on. There’s a guest bedroom down the hall if you need but I’d far prefer you lay here with me. Okay?”
“Okay.” Vi whispered, turning until she was flat on her back and Caitlyn could see the remnants of tears on her tanned cheeks. She settled herself beneath the covers before beckoning Vi, who clambered in beside her with a nervous eagerness that Caitlyn found both endearing and a little depressing. So long she’d deprived Vi of the space beside her, truly for no reason at all. The short-haired girl settled her head on Caitlyn’s chest, head tucked beneath the taller’s chin, and the warmth and comfort of the embrace was welcome.
It wasn’t long before Vi’s breaths evened and she began to drool onto Caitlyn’s nightshirt, but the latter remained awake, gaze fixed on the shadowy light the moon cast on the ceiling. Her hand smoothed Vi’s hair absently, weaving her fingers through the greasy pink strands thoughtfully. She wondered when Vi had last washed it, when she’d last considered herself enough to do so; she didn’t dwell on the thought long, not when it made her so miserable. The evening’s events replayed in her mind like a mantra, swirling and blending with her plethora of failures over the last few months to torture her as she lay there, imprisoned by her girlfriend’s sleeping body against her.
It felt like justice, in a way. A fair punishment for how she’d treated the girl she loved so dearly, led her to believe she was unworthy to sleep beside her. Caitlyn could not stop making mistakes, it seemed; she wondered what her mother would say, if she could see her now. Would she support Caitlyn’s ruthless conquest to capture Jinx by all means necessary, or would she steer her in another direction? What would she think if she knew the true extent of her and Vi’s closeness? Caitlyn never had disclosed her attraction to women to her parents; she’d never felt the need to. Now, she’d never get the chance, and her mother had gone to her grave not knowing.
It was the little things like that that hit Caitlyn the hardest, the things she never would have considered if her mother were alive. The things that seemed too simple to ordinarily harbour worry. Things that now wouldn’t leave her mind. She wished she could forget, get as far away from Piltover and Zaun as possible and find somewhere her and Vi could exist in peace. No murderous siblings, no ‘oil and water’, no political duties, just the two of them and some peace and quiet so they could take a moment just to be. To process all they’d been through, to recover from their trauma. For Vi to grow used to life as a free woman and Caitlyn to grow into her mother’s shoes, to fill them better. That would do them both good.
If only they weren’t tied so their nations by such an inseparable manner as family, if only their names weren’t legend for vastly different reasons. Once she allowed herself to think of one thing she couldn’t change and how it would change her life for the better if she could, it was easy to get lost in it. To think of every ideal alternate universe where they could find each other in another circumstance, one idyllic when compared to their own. One where things might still be difficult, but they were at least born and raised on the same side, each with problems the other could understand. Maybe then it wouldn’t seem like everything was trying to keep them apart, to ruin what they had, Caitlyn’s own self-sabotage included.
‘Oil and water’ Vi’s pained voice repeated in the back of her mind, and she only wished she could have kissed her then, shown that it didn’t matter whether things would ever be perfect, they’d make things work. It was the sort of idealistic attitude her father had always supported, and her mother would have discouraged her on. She wondered what he would say now.
The peace in Vi’s face flickered as she let out a tiny whimper, eyebrows creasing with some unseen horror as she twitched in her sleep. Caitlyn’s hand, which had stilled on her head, quickly began trying to soothe the pink-haired girl, drawing gentle lines on her scalp. Her closed eyes beaded with tears, and Caitlyn pulled her impossibly closer, needing reassure her that she wasn’t alone. Vi’s nightmares were quiet, inconspicuous, in a direct contrast of the girl herself, and Caitlyn wondered just how many times she’d had them alone on that windowsill while she herself slept peacefully on.
The thought saddened her so deeply it felt like a physical pain. Vi was so goddamn soft, which would be a surprise to anyone who didn’t know her but to those who did was a simple fact. So caring and kind to the core that she’d been forced to grow a thick-skinned armour to keep her fragile heart safe. A fragile heart that by all accounts shouldn’t fit into a muscled girl with half-shorn hair and a tattooed face who’d spent a third of her life in prison, but did because that was Vi. Vi, who’d been a parent longer than she’d been a child, taking care of her sister and Ekko and every other child she came across, who’d had it ingrained into her that she needed to be strong for others.
The façade she’d given herself was a barrier, to keep out those who wished to cause her harm. The fact that she’d been allowed past that barrier was a blessing, and not one that she wished to let go of. Her only fear was that she would have no choice, if it was between the fate of Piltover and Vi. Though Vi might be the most important person in the world to her, she was still a Kiramann. She had a duty to complete.
For now, though, she held Vi close and pretended she could never let her go, that their separation wasn’t practically an inevitability. She fought against the pull of sleep in favour of watching the peace settling back into Vi’s features, and pretended there wasn’t a chance it would be the last time she would do so.