Chapter Text
Cassandra woke up under warm sheets, the soft fabric enveloping her in a reassuring press. A natural light eliminated the back of her eyelids, calling for her to open them and see the day.
Her surroundings weren't immediately familiar once she could see. The walls were a dark ivy colour, finished wooden bedset shades too dark be of the estate's ownership.
The differences came alongside the truth of where she was. Not a moment after was she remembering how draining the previous day had been. She knew to expect some lethargy. Could feel the pressure of the future looming too soon already.
But the sheets held a fragrance that stopped the thoughts immediately. It was one she knew. Or, one she could easily recall. The kind she'd expected when Grayson had first appeared back in Piltover, only to find a slightly different tone to what she remembered.
She guessed that Grayson must have left her love for the hint of an oriental scent here in Ionia.
Her new boreal one worked just as well, Cassandra reasoned.
Nevertheless, she pulled the material close, wanting to absorb as much of the memory as she could.
It felt like long conversations in the evenings when they should have been studying.
It felt like being held by Grayson without being asked why the touch was needed.
It felt like building up the courage to tell Rayna that she—
There was a knock at the door that startled her. Singular. Tentative. She expected Tobias in the way one anticipated an estranged friend. In some part, Cassandra feared that that was what they were becoming.
“Come in.” She said despite how unprepared she was for his presence.
She sat up as the door pushed open, the comforter bunching up at her midriff, far enough away for her to pretend she hadn't been holding it with clenched fingers. Apparently not far enough to ward away the tension that suddenly consumed the room.
Cassandra saw her soon-to-be ex-husband enter the room, and all her senses were consumed with the woman who had held her last night.
“You're up.” Tobias’s voice was as high as his eyes were wide, animated in a way that felt like he'd been practicing. Cassandra took a closer look at him, at the way his hands were clasped together, how his eyes were less sunken than usual. He'd at least had his morning coffee so far. The steadiness as he approached the bed said as much.
She felt herself shift when he paused by her side, unsure if she was making space for him to sit, or trying to get away from him.
The fact that the second thought was an option physically pained her. She held her hand near her stomach, trying not to show any discomfort from how it had knotted up.
She realised too late that she hadn't said anything, Tobias had his focus on her, clearly waiting.
Trying to gather up what little composure she had left, Cassandra made it work.
“I trust that you managed the night alright? Our weekend arrangement hasn't been too much of an inconvenience for you?”
Tobias looked taken aback, shaking his head and deciding then that he'd remain standing.
Good, Cassandra told herself. She hadn't liked being made the one to shift in the first place.
She shifted back to the centre of the bed as Tobias tried for a response.
“Quite the contrary.” He began. “It's a lovely home.”
Cassandra felt a gleaming sense of pride overcome her, like she was in any way associated with what it had taken to make this house to Tobias’s liking.
She could see that he saw this, that he was beginning to feel unsure in himself. The only thing that could ever connect the two in moments like these presented itself in his next words.
“I believe Caitlyn has made acquaintance with Grayson’s daughter. They've been in the garden since early morning.”
Cassandra couldn’t hide, didn't want to conceal the way she softened at the thought. She knew what this trip was for. Knew that her and Caitlyn still had more to discuss than she had the mental bandwidth for.
Still, the image that came to mind, Caitlyn not completely isolating herself; it was reassuring. Sure, her companion was an eleven year old who seemed to get along with everyone, but Cassandra hadn't seen Caitlyn socialising with so much as the staff back home lately. She'd never said anything — too scared to overreach — but she'd noticed.
She'd gone through her own bouts of isolation once upon a time.
As she looked at the man in front of her, she saw the very version of him that had been the one to pull her out back then.
“I'm glad she's allowed herself the company.” She used her voice less coldly this time.
He nodded, agreeing though she couldn't be sure if he noticed as much as she did.
Seeming to find his opening, Tobias leaned forward and paused in inspection of her. Cassandra let him breach the space between them momentarily.
He hesitated once he was satisfied, that all too common regret settling across his features.
“You can say it.” She encouraged. She was sure it was an apology. Knew even more that she wasn't in need of one. But she'd do him the one favour, let him honour his values just as she had ever since she'd known him.
With that, Tobias blurted it out. “I should have taken a better approach yesterday. I was overwhelmed, and tense. I could've handled the subject more delicately.”
Cassandra noticed how he didn't say the word. Assuming that he suddenly couldn't, she did it for him.
“There aren't many delicate ways to ask for a divorce.” And because she didn't want to place blame where it didn't belong, “One of us had to actually take that step. It should have been me, but I can acknowledge that I had been stalling on the issue.”
She was trying more and more to take responsibility for the things in her life. She couldn’t carry the burden of all of it, but some things she did need to hold herself accountable for. In the right time and place.
She found what felt closer to her settled rhythm as she managed her way out of bed. The two stood face to face, looking at each other, but everything in Cassandra told her that they were both seeing every version of their spouse but the ones who were standing right in front of them.
She reached for him finally. Pressed her hand against his chest in an extension of peace.
We're okay, the touch said. She wanted him to know that this wouldn't break them. That she couldn't be upset at the man who had given her such a happy life so far.
When she pulled away, it said everything the touch had and more. Cassandra had something else to focus on now too. Herself. Her daughter. And as the day became more clear through the morning light, she remembered just how much Grayson needed her today.
There'd be time to manage what this was.
For now, she needed to be a supporter as much as she was supported.
Cassandra found her first real moment alongside Grayson only once they'd made their way to the park. Grayson had been kind enough to offer her rental to her, the trade of Ren and Grayson going with Dira meaning there were three people per vehicle.
The trip there had been quiet. Tobias had volunteered to drive. Cassandra hadn't stopped him. Caitlyn spoke to neither of them, though it felt less forced than the day before.
There simply wasn't anything to say.
As Cassandra finally stood next to Grayson, Ren having pulled Caitlyn closer to the growing group of arrivals while Tobias offered his help to Dira, she felt at ease for the first time since they'd separated the night before. She wouldn't mention it. The way Grayson held herself said she was thinking of far less pleasant things than that. Perhaps reliving memories of this very place.
Cassandra leaned close, but didn't invade the space she figured Grayson would need regardless of if she could ask for it or not.
Not wanting to add any pressure, she positioned herself in the direction of the park entrance without taking any steps to move.
“Is there anything you need to do tonight?” She asked. “Anything I can help with?”
Grayson shook her head, “We already brought our share of food. We can just sit back and listen for the night.”
Cassandra nodded, moving only once Grayson started to take steps forward. She watched as Dira passed them holding a dish, the two close friends giving each other brief glances before Cassandra watched Dira approach the central gazebo.
She hadn't noticed her arms fall to her sides, only felt the brush of her hand against Grayson’s. Cassandra felt the rush of an apology coming forward, stopped only by the faint smile on Grayson's face.
“Thanks for coming.” Grayson said eventually, and it was a repetition Cassandra couldn't help but point out.
“You've thanked me already, and I'm certainly sure that I didn't even deserve it the first time.”
Grayson gave her a full smile then, dimmed by the day yet still as beautiful as Cassandra had ever remembered it.
“Yesterday was just practice.” Grayson said. “Now it's real. Better I thank you now than forget my manners later.”
She walked a fraction closer to Cassandra then, enough that their hands brushed for every step they took. Cassandra didn't reach for anything more. She could only wish to be the steady person Grayson could lean on during one of the hardest weekends of the year.
They reached the crowd and lingered in it for hours. While Cassandra had experienced a life full of large gatherings, none had ever felt as much like a community as the park did all across the grass. People knew people, and not a single conversation had anything to do with leadership, the faulty systems at play, or how someone could fit themselves into the misshapen form of it all. The people spoke for the sake of knowing each other. Of comforting each other.
Cassandra spotted Ren and Caitlyn sitting on one of the high playground sets in the distance. She couldn't see much from where she was. Only that Ren had her arms wrapped around one of the thick metal poles that made up the railings. Caitlyn fit right into the space despite how far from childhood she'd reached.
Again that note came. Cassandra would make a conversation happen tomorrow. She'd make sure that any decision Caitlyn made in regards to Ionia was made for the benefit of only herself.
While she pulled her focus away from the wholesome sight of the two girls, paper plates made their rounds, everyone circling the cornucopia of food and taking their chosen pickings.
A community member opened the evening when the lanterns turned on. The sun was still setting behind him. making for a soft glow to be watched over the horizon.
The words started as expected. Thanking everyone for showing up. A brief telling of the day that led them here, how four years hadn't changed the impact of it all.
He was shakier when he looked down at a tablet that had been brought up onto the podium they'd situated in front of him.
“We here in Goldstone lost a lot of good people that day. Plenty more of us were gravely affected in various other ways, but there's no way to overstate the immense loss of each person taken from us. As we've done before, I'll read each name engraved on this plaque. Each life has its story, and each one deserves to be remembered.”
It felt more like a sacred ceremony once the names started being read. Cassandra only noticed then the rows of similar flatstones arranged just behind the man.
Each name got an arrangement of flowers. Each name was given a moment to be heard.
Those who were farther off on the outskirts drifted back in. Cassandra felt her chest pull tight as she waited for his name. When it came, the preparation hadn't been enough.
“Marcus E. Grayson.”
Cassandra’s head turned to Grayson, confusion mixing itself in what was already an overcrowded pool of emotions.
The woman only shrugged, waiting a moment for Ren to step forward to retrieve the standard bouquet alongside the one they'd brought.
Grayson seemed choked as she spoke, the words wrestling their way out over a few coughs and a final relentment of the inconsistency in its stability.
“He was just a kid whose parents had clawed their way out of Zaun when he got here. Father's name didn't suit him. I offered him mine for peace of mind after his first year. So he could climb the ranks without the reputational hassle. He never stopped using it.”
And now his daughter used the same one. Cassandra realised it quickly, and the silence she had already fallen into seemed insurmountable now.
Grayson seemed to have little trouble with words, stepping aside to let others through as she took her moment off to the side. Cassandra followed without question.
“It isn't fate. In case that's what you wanted to say.”
Cassandra hadn't wanted to say anything.
“I shouldn't be a mom. I wasn't meant to be more than an aunt.” Grayson barely took a moment to breathe. “I'm Aunt Ray. That's all I should be. She was my goddaughter. That's all she should have been.”
Cassandra hadn't seen Grayson cry in a long time. When the wet droplets fell down from her eyes, they both seemed surprised at the intrusion of it. Grayson wiped them away quickly. “I'm sorry.”
Cassandra shook her head, but again, there was nothing to say. Nothing felt adequate. In all the years that she'd been living a different life, for every moment where she'd learned the rhythms of comforting both a husband, a child and a city, the instinct to offer Grayson the same thing had slipped away from her grasp.
Cassandra had chosen to be a mother from the very start. She'd never gained the title from tragedy. Never had to balance both the fragile safety of a child with a past so fresh and brutal that moving cities had been the only alternative.
She reached for Grayson, offering what little left she knew of the woman, and pulled her into an embrace.
It didn't feel like enough. It wasn't. But she held on as firmly as she could without straying from the goal of being gentle. She whispered when she thought she found at least one easy thing to say.
It was certain, and true, and unchanging if Cassandra had anything to do with it.
“I'm here now, Ray. This doesn't have to be something you carry alone.”
She knew that Grayson had never been entirely alone. Support was obvious enough from the memorial. But Cassandra had been a missing piece for so long. She only hoped that somewhere, her trying to fit into Grayson's life would start to feel like a better version of before.
One where no ending was cut short.