Chapter Text
Winter came bitterly to Piltover that year, with the cold seeping into the very bones of the city. It's always a tenuous period for Viktor, the endless chill freezing new aches into his joints and seasonal illnesses threatening his fragile constitution. Jayce knows that Viktor hates it when people fuss openly about his health, so he's quietly developed quite the skill for noticing when his body is failing him, and aiding him in ways that Viktor himself barely notices. It's difficult at times, with Viktor constantly coming up with ingenious methods of concealing when he's feeling ill for the sake of his pride. But Jayce likes to think he's learned all his subtle little tricks, and is confident that not even the slightest sniffle could get past him, no matter how hard Viktor tries.
Which is why, when he finds Viktor lying unconscious on the floor of their lab, he has never felt more disappointed in himself.
"Viktor? Shit, Viktor!" He sprints to his side, skidding into a crouch and grazing his knee through his trousers. Viktor is lying face down on the floor, his cheek pressed against the cold stone tiles, eyes closed and so terribly pale. Hauling him into his arms, Jayce tries desperately to wake him - but he feels so brittle, and he's terrified of shaking too hard lest he break him. "Come on, V, wake up, come back to me..."
Slowly, after what feels like an unbearable age, Viktor's eyes flutter open, the amber irises hazy and unfocused with the glaze of fever. "Jayce?"
Jayce smiles down at him, determined to keep Viktor at ease even though his heart feels like it's about to pound up his throat and out of his mouth. "It's going to be okay, Viktor, I'm going to get you to the hospital. Just hold on for me, okay?"
"Hold on…" Viktor mumbles, his head lolling. His cheeks are blotchy and red with feverish warmth, made all the brighter by the ghastly pallor of his skin. "To… to what? We're- we're too… Up so high… Don't know how to get down…"
He slips back into unconsciousness before Jayce can figure out what he's rambling about, delirium drawing him back into fitful slumber. As soon as his eyes roll into the back of his head, blind terror startles Jayce into action. Ironically, his fear keeps his panic at bay, because he knows he cannot afford to lose his head right now. Viktor needs him, just like he has needed Viktor so many times before. He cannot let him down, not when it really matters.
The sprint to Piltover's hospital is a nightmarish blur. All he remembers of it is the barely-there weight of Viktor's body hanging limply in his arms, and the whiteness of the blizzard at the corner of his eyes.
Pneumonia, the doctors say - and a fierce case of it too. He must have been feeling unwell for days before his body finally forced him to give up, pushing through high fevers and nausea and chest pains exacerbated by the fissure rot in his lungs. As Jayce sits in vigil beside his hospital bed, he wracks his brain for memories, trying to figure out how on earth he hadn't noticed that Viktor had been suffering so terribly. They practically spend every hour of every day together, and still Viktor managed to hide it from him.
Crafty bastard, Jayce thinks. He won't let him get away with it next time.
In his hospital bed, Viktor is an unconscious shell of himself. The cords of his nasal cannula drape against his all too angular cheekbones, and his skin is so pale it's almost transparent. An IV drip sticks brutally into his thin bicep, pumping him with a cocktail of antibiotics and hydrating fluid and nutrients and painkillers. His chest rises and falls with an uneven wheeze, and his breath rattles in his lungs - which were all filled up with fluid before they stuck a needle in his back and drained them. Gone is the terse yet brilliant scientist, gone is the witty and playful friend, gone is the driven and ambitious genius. All that's left is a wretched husk, and all Jayce can do is mourn the loss.
Hours melt into days, Jayce only leaving Viktor's side when he absolutely has to - to eat, to use the restroom, to shower, but very little else. If all he can do to help is sit and watch over Viktor as he sleeps, then he's determined to do it to the best of his ability. But at the same time, he's overwhelmed by a remarkable sense of uselessness, because whenever he has suffered in the past, Viktor would bend over backwards to lift him from it. He would stay with him at night and shield him from the nightmares that had plagued him since he was a child. He would ice his swollen bruises and clean the dried blood from his battered face. He would walk him home when he was blind drunk, help him wash, and put him to bed. He would pull every last piece of shrapnel from his skin and clean every inch of burnt flesh.
He would pull him back from the ledge and promise to make his dreams come true, even when he was little more than a stranger.
Yet all Jayce can do is sit, and wait, and watch numbly as the doctors keep him alive.
In an act of generosity he doubtless only receives because he happens to be Piltover's beloved 'Man of Progress', the hospital staff allow Jayce to stay in Viktor's room long after visiting hours have ended. Granted, it isn't as if Jayce can disrupt Viktor's rest with his presence, given that he's been sleeping like a rock ever since he was admitted, but still, Jayce is grateful. The possibility of not being there the moment Viktor wakes is unthinkable to him, and he hates the idea of Viktor believing that he doesn't care enough to sit with him, even for a moment. Viktor needs to know that Jayce is going to be there for every second that he needs him, without complaint or hesitation, devoted to the last.
But it takes him too long to wake up. By the end of the second day, Jayce feels like he can't breathe, the uncertainty of it all like a noose around his neck, threatening to pull taut and cut off his air at any second. The doctors assure him that Viktor is stable, that he simply needs an abundance of rest if his body is to recover from the relentless onslaught of infection. He'll wake up any minute now, they're sure of it. But all their reassurances ring hollow the moment Jayce sets his eyes on Viktor's pale, wasted visage, or listens too closely to the rattling wheeze in his lungs. How is he supposed to believe that he's alright when every single indicator points to the opposite?
Shortly after Viktor was admitted, one of the nurses told him that it's a good idea to talk to sick people while they're sleeping. Even in the depths of unconsciousness, supposedly they can still hear it - and it's a worthwhile venture whether it rouses them or not. Jayce had initially dismissed the suggestion, confidently believing that Viktor would wake soon enough. But as the sun sets on his second day of uninterrupted sleep, Jayce is starting to wonder if it isn't such a bad idea.
Hesitantly, just as a nurse closes the door on the final check-in for the day, Jayce reaches for Viktor's hot, dry hand, and squeezes it gently.
"Hey, Vik," Jayce murmurs, keeping his voice low because, as much as he wants him to wake, he loathes the idea of startling him. "I don't really know what to say. I'm not that good at this kind of thing."
He swallows, drowning in a silence that's only broken by the soft croak of Viktor's breathing and the slight whir of the machinery monitoring his vitals.
"I guess I could say that I miss you," he continues, staring at Viktor's hand rather than his face because it's easier that way. "Because I do. I didn't realise just how empty my days feel without you in them. I wish you'd wake up, because you're kind of scaring me, V. I know you get sick pretty easily, but I don't think I've ever seen it get this bad before. I… I just want you to wake up so you can tell me that you're going to be okay. I'm only going to believe it if I hear it from you. Please, just tell me that you'll be okay, even if it's all you have the strength to say. Let it be the first thing out of your mouth, as soon as you open your eyes, and then you can go right back to sleep again. Oh, who am I kidding? When you wake up, all you're going to do is laugh at me for talking to you like this."
Softly, Jayce sighs, feeling foolish. But now that he's started, he doesn't want to stop, because even a one-sided conversation is enough to soothe the bone deep ache of missing him.
"But I like talking to you, so I don't think I care that you can't hear me. Or maybe you can, I don't know - the nurses think so, but it's so hard to tell. I mean, you're so… quiet. Are you even in there? Can't you give me some sign that you can hear me? Please, Viktor. It's been hell without you, and I don't think I can hold out for much longer waiting like this. I can't shake this feeling that my world's ending because you're not in it anymore - so you've got to come back so you can put everything right, just like you always do. Please, please, even if you just squeeze my hand a little so I know you're there. I just… I just want you back."
Viktor's hand rests limply in Jayce's, like a listless marble statue perfectly persevered. His eyes do not even flutter beneath his closed lids. Something inside Jayce shatters.
"You have to wake up, V. You have to wake up because I'm going to drop Hextech completely if I can't keep working on it with you. You have to wake up so I can yell at you for hiding this from me. You have to wake up so I can bring you home and give you tea and soup and those spicy Ionian chocolates you love so much. You have to wake up so you can show me all the music you like, and so I can read you all my favourite poems. You have to wake up because I still haven't taken you to meet my mother, and she won't stop nagging me about it until I do. You have to wake up because if I never hear your voice again, I'll lose my mind. You have to wake up so I can tell you that I love you when you can actually hear it. You have to… Damn it, you have to wake up so you can tell me if you love me too."
The dam breaks, and the tears that have been hovering dormant in his eyes ever since he found Viktor on the floor of their laboratory at last begin to fall. Crumpling forward, he rests his arms on the edge of Viktor's mattress and buries his head in them, weeping pitifully as all his pent up desires come crashing down around him. He'd been able to keep them under control for all the years they've known each other, his aching need for Viktor's love sated by his mere presence - the yearning wasn't so bad when he could be with him every day. But it is only in his absence that Jayce realises just how vital Viktor is to his survival, and so he sobs like a child because he does not know what else to do with the magnitude of his grief.
And then a thin, unsteady hand runs lightly over his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, moje sluníčko. I thought I had made it more obvious."
Jayce freezes, his heart stopping so suddenly it might crack his ribs. Slowly, he glances up, terrified to move too quickly lest he shatter the moment - and there lies Viktor, his head tilted towards him, his eyes glazed but open. For a moment, Jayce can only stare at him, his exhausted mind struggling to comprehend that he's really, actually awake. He eventually parts his lips to speak, but only manages a small, hasty gasp - he's completely tongue tied. He swallows, struggling to find the words - how the hell does he not know what to say when he's had all this time to figure it out? "I- Viktor- You're- You're-"
But before Jayce can go on stammering out his stilted exclamations, Viktor's breath catches, and suddenly he lurches into a coughing fit. Startled into action by the harsh, hacking sound, Jayce immediately grabs hold of him, propping him up and rubbing his back to ease the pain. For it does sound so very painful, as if he's forcing razor blades out of his throat, and Jayce holds him tight, loathing the idea of him being in pain without comfort.
"Easy, easy…" he murmurs. "That's it, get it out, you're okay…"
Viktor's trembling when he at last slumps back into Jayce's arms, already looking so much more exhausted than he did mere seconds ago. When he speaks, his voice is barely audible, worn and croaky and haggard. "Jayce, what's wrong with me this time?"
"Pneumonia," Jayce answers, and Viktor gives a small, disappointed hum.
"I had that before, I think. I was hoping it would not happen again." Viktor coughs again - lightly this time, thank Janna. "I should be so unlucky. But I… I do not remember… How did I get here?"
"You fainted in the lab," Jayce explains. Memories of Viktor, limp and listless on the ground, threaten to crowd out his thoughts, but he forces himself to focus on Viktor as he is now - frail, but alive. "I wasn't there when it happened, I just found you that way. I brought you to the hospital as soon as I could. That's where we are, by the way."
"I figured," Viktor says with a crooked attempt at a smile.
"How long had you been feeling like this?" Jayce asks, trying not to sound hurt but failing terribly. "How long had you been pushing through it?"
Viktor looks drowsy as he thinks. "A few days, perhaps. I thought it would pass."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I did not want you to worry."
"You didn't- Viktor! Of all the stupid- did you really think that pushing yourself to the point of collapse would stop me from worrying? I almost had a goddamn heart attack when I saw you there. I thought… fuck, I thought…"
Jayce buries his nose in Viktor's hair, as if it’ll somehow conceal his tears. Viktor stares ahead, his eyes dull. "You are angry with me."
It's like he just dumped a bucket of ice cold water over his head. "Angry? No, no, of course I'm not angry, I was just… scared. I wish you'd let me help you. You promised me, all those years ago, that you'd come to me when you were hurting, and yet you didn't."
Weakly, Viktor reaches for Jayce's hand, and Jayce saves him the effort by closing the distance for him, wrapping up his fragile hand in his own broad one. "I am sorry I frightened you. It was not my intention."
"Just promise me you'll never do it again, okay? I hate the idea of me just going about my day while you're going through hell without saying a word," Jayce says, running his thumb over the sharp protrusions of Viktor's knuckles. "Seriously, what kind of pain threshold have you got that you could get goddamn pneumonia and hide it so well?"
"I suppose I am simply accustomed to feeling this way," Viktor says, which is as heartbreaking as it is disturbing. "But I will admit, it was difficult to keep pushing through. There were many times that I did want to tell you, and moments when I thought my body would betray me and force you to find out, but…"
"You didn't want to scare me," Jayce finishes, and Viktor nods. "Was that really all it was? You let yourself suffer that badly just to protect my feelings?"
A beat of silence. If Jayce isn't mistaken, Viktor almost looks scared. "I suppose there was more to it than that. Jayce… Sometimes, I can be a very insecure man."
"What do you mean?"
"All my life, people have looked at me and seen nothing but a cripple with a strange limp and an irritating cough - like your man at the gala," Viktor begins, and Jayce can feel him tightening his grip around his hand. "I am accustomed to this, and it does not bother me, but that does not make it feel any less wonderful when you look past those things. It means a great deal to me when you look at me like I can do anything, and I love that you turn to me for help - nobody has ever thought that I could help them before, because they all think I'm too unwell to be any good to anyone. And I suppose I thought, if you saw me fall so ill, it might change all that. Ruin it."
"Viktor… Haven't we known each other long enough for you to know me better than that? You know I'd never think any less of you for getting sick, don't you?"
"I do, but I have simply been selfish." Viktor bows his head, as if ashamed. "Will you forgive me?"
Jayce softens, for he's never heard him sound so small before. "Of course I will. I'm just glad you're okay."
Visibly, Viktor relaxes. "Thank you." He twists his head to look up at Jayce, eyes alight with curiosity despite the heavy glaze in them. "And you? Are you alright? You look as bad as I feel."
But Jayce shakes his head. "Oh, no, that's not how this is going to work. You don't get to fuss over me this time. It's my turn to take care of you, okay?"
"Jayce, don't be-"
"Viktor. You have pneumonia, and the doctor said it's one of the worst cases he's ever seen. You've been out for two days, and you're already exhausted just from being awake for less than five minutes. So if I see you lift so much as a finger to do anything but rest and recover, I'll strap you down to that bed myself and make sure you stay there."
Viktor regards him for a moment, eyelids heavy as he thinks. "Are you threatening me, Jayce?"
"Just for your own good."
"I should call for the nurses, get you hauled out of here."
Jayce grins - the first time he's done so since this whole sorry episode of their lives began. "I'd like to see them try. Wild horses couldn't drag me away from you right now."
"Wait - don't tell me you've been here with me this entire time. I've been sleeping for two days straight, you said?"
"Yeah."
If that fact disturbs him, he doesn't let it show. "And you sat here for that long?" When Jayce nods, Viktor looks perturbed. "Please tell me you at least got up to piss."
When Jayce laughs, it's as much from relief as from amusement - because hearing that kind of out-of-pocket bluntness from Viktor again makes everything feel so much less frightening. If he can still be as dry and direct as ever, then he isn't completely lost.
"Of course I did," he says, still with laughter in his voice.
Viktor smiles, sleepy and soft, and he looks very much like he's about to fall back into slumber again. Jayce wouldn't be so worried if he did, not now. But instead, he shifts a little, and when he tries and fails to sit himself up more, Jayce wraps his arm around his waist to hold him steady.
"Think it's time you went back to sleep?" Jayce asks, noting the heavy loll of his head and the droop of his eyelids.
"I don't think I'm going to have much choice," he murmurs. Then, he shakes his head. "But not yet."
"Viktor, you're sick. You should get as much shut eye as you can."
"I need to talk to you, just about one more thing." He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing in his slender throat. "You understood what I said when I woke up, yes?"
Jayce casts his mind back - but Viktor's waking was such a shock to him that it feels like a blur already. "Uh, sort of?"
"Of course you don't," Viktor grumbles. "Typical - I try to be romantic and you don't even remember it."
"Wait, romantic?" Now Jayce's hunt through his memories grows frantic, desperately searching for the exact words that had tumbled from Viktor's lips while he'd been sobbing at his side. He'd been talking to him before, trying to get through to him, and he'd reached his breaking point, hadn't he? In his desperation, he'd told Viktor that he loved him, and that he wanted Viktor to love him too, and then-
Oh.
Viktor smiles again when he realises that Jayce has caught on. "I heard everything, you know."
"Wait, so you-"
"Heard you say that you love me? Yes. But it surprised me that you did not already know that I feel the same way."
Every trace of breath vanishes from Jayce's lungs. "But- but you didn't say anything!"
"I did not think I should have to." Sighing tiredly, Viktor flops down against Jayce, his head fitting perfectly against his chest. "I show it often enough, do I not? How many times must I tend to you before you realise I do it out of devotion?"
It all makes sense - Viktor's willingness to drop everything to help him, his dedication to ensuring that he's always as well as he can be, the tenderness with which he'd carry out his every ministration. From the night he pulled him back from the ledge to the night he joined him in bed to keep the nightmares at bay, he has always been utterly and completely devoted to him.
"Damn it," Jayce says, breathless. "I've been such an idiot."
Weakly, Viktor laughs. "Yes, I think you have."
"This whole time?"
"Mhm." Viktor curls up closer, with no fear whatsoever that Jayce will rebuff his desire to be intimate. "Would you like me to say it out loud?"
Somehow, Jayce thinks that'll cheapen it. "No. I think I like it better when you show it."
"Alright." Viktor yawns, and the full weight of his exhaustion settles over him at last. "Jayce… I feel awful."
"Then let me take care of you," Jayce says, and with it he says all the greater meanings with which they have imbued the notion of care.
At last, Viktor closes his eyes, falling back to sleep in seconds. Jayce knows he should call for one of the doctors and let them know that Viktor woke up, but the thought of letting him go when he evidently feels so comfortable in his arms is abhorrent to him. It can wait, he thinks. For now, he just wants to enjoy the light pressure of Viktor's head against his chest, and the warmth of his body pressed against him.
But as tired as he feels, Jayce doesn't want to join him in slumber. He knows what his role must be tonight - Viktor's sentinel, keeping him safe so he can recover in peace, ready to rescue him the moment his body starts to war against him again. Viktor's going to need him if he wakes up coughing the agony out of his lungs, or if his fever spikes, or if he needs to throw up, or if suddenly his throat closes and he can no longer breathe. As reassuring as it is to have spoken with him, there's still so much that could go wrong - the inner strength he has demonstrated time and again does not diminish his physical frailty.
He wonders if, given his insecurities, Viktor might resent him for his urge to protect. But Jayce has not elected to watch over Viktor because he thinks him feeble or incapable. No, he will watch over him so he can nurse the strength he admires so deeply in him, so he can restore him to his resilient, capable, generous old self - and prove to him that he will not stop loving and relying on him simply because he needs help when he is ailing.
And so Jayce settles in for a sleepless night, gladly sacrificing his own rest for Viktor's sake, just as Viktor has already sacrificed so much for him.