Work Text:
Every step that Caitlyn takes through her library feels cold. She can almost feel every molecule of her body ringing at the impact of the marble underneath her feet, and the closer she gets to the balcony door, the more her skin hums uncomfortably.
She’s been looking all over the house for Vi. On any other day, she wouldn’t have been as worried; Vi usually went off to do her own thing while Caitlyn attended to whatever required her attention that day. Oftentimes she’d go back to the Undercity to run errands and help rebuild, usually with Ekko and the Firelights.
But after last night, Caitlyn’s entire body has been buzzing with anxiety. It’s only gotten worse the further she’s looked into the house, with still no sign of Vi.
When she finally arrives at the balcony door in the library - the last place she hasn’t checked - a wave of relief cools Caitlyn’s skin. Vi’s sitting on the ground, her back and head leaning against one of the tables, absentmindedly playing with the fabric of the sling of her broken arm as she watches the sun setting over Piltover.
For a brief second, Caitlyn’s heart swells. She looks peaceful here, facing the rest of the world, watching it go on under her feet. But that warmth quickly gives way to something colder when she remembers why Vi is even out here, alone and unbothered.
Caitlyn’s nerves curl at the thought of last night. She remembers the feverish heat of Vi’s skin as she trembled through a nightmare, the sweat prickling at the edges of her scalp in the moonlight. She remembers the way she jolted awake, her breathing ragged and choked, as if someone had tried stealing it in her dreams. Caitlyn tried asking what happened, but Vi only shook her head and quivered under the covers as she tried to catch her breath. Eventually Caitlyn realized she didn’t want to talk about it, so she asked if she could hold her instead, and even though Vi let her, she refused to face her. She just continued crying, her body curled on itself, barely warming under Caitlyn’s embrace.
Caitlyn tried to brush her tears away, but they came faster than she could stop them.
Vi waking up to nightmares wasn’t the strange part. Caitlyn’s learned that it’s something that happens often, dating all the way back to when Vi spent those few nights at her house after her mother died. She’s gotten used to hearing Vi’s mumbling and trembling in the past week since the battle. But usually Vi would calm down after taking a walk and fall back asleep.
Last night was different - it was like she was afraid to even stand up. She just shivered under the covers, her eyes as wide and vacant as the moon as she stared blankly up at the ceiling, like she was watching a dream even awake.
What concerned Caitlyn even more, though, was the morning. Caitlyn moved as quietly as she could, which she usually didn’t have to do; Vi would get up with her, start getting ready for her own day, and they’d hold their small talk to keep each other company. But this morning, after Caitlyn stood up, she could feel Vi’s eyes on her as she laid in bed. She didn’t say anything, though, only watched Caitlyn as if she were a ghost walking around the room. Caitlyn got the sense it was best if she didn’t say anything, afraid it might disturb the peace.
But the unusual quietness eventually got to her, and she didn’t want to leave the house without at least acknowledging it. After getting dressed, she leaned against the doorframe of her bedroom.
“Vi?” she asked quietly, despising the way the room practically echoed with her voice. It felt too loud, too demanding in the silence. “Are you alright?”
Vi’s back faced the window now, her eyes - baggy and slightly red - trained on her hand twitching in front of her. At Caitlyn’s voice, she dragged her gaze to hers, and Caitlyn had to fight not to suck in a breath. The weight of her stare felt like needles against Caitlyn’s skin - it was so devoid of emotion, stuck in some sort of casing that Caitlyn couldn’t crack open.
Vi shrugged. And then, before Caitlyn could say anything, she shook her head.
“Would you like to talk about last night?” Caitlyn asked, but she could feel her shoulders hiking up with every syllable. She already knew the answer to the question.
Vi shook her head again, and when she spoke, Caitlyn genuinely flinched; her voice sounded so hoarse, so raspy, it reminded her almost of Jinx for a split second. “Not right now,” she muttered.
“Okay.” Caitlyn hesitated, then added, “I’m going to the councilor’s building after breakfast.”
Vi nodded.
Caitlyn took a deep, shuddering breath, if only to fill the silence between them. She and Vi had only been living together for a week at this point, but Caitlyn had gotten used to her bustling energy in the morning. This silence felt lethal in comparison.
“I can stay back, though,” Caitlyn offered, almost hopefully. “If you need me to.”
Vi stayed still for a moment, and her eyebrows rose in what Caitlyn was hoping was consideration. But then she said, in a bit of a stronger voice now, “I think I just need to be alone.”
The words were shrapnel to Caitlyn’s heart, and she had to fight to not let her face fall. If Vi noticed anything shift in her features, she didn’t say anything; only watched Caitlyn with something a little more apprehensive in her eyes.
Caitlyn knew she wasn’t saying it to hurt her. In fact, it wasn’t about her at all, so she tried not to let the words sting. But still, she couldn’t help the heavy wavering in her voice as she said, “I can do that.”
She turned to open the door, her breathing getting a little heavier, and she could feel tears pressing up against her throat - unnecessary tears, she knew, yet there nonetheless. But just before she slipped out, Vi called, “Cait?”
She stopped and turned expectantly, trying to swallow the pain.
“No hard feelings,” Vi said, and now a bit of emotion flickered in her face again, like color returning to her skin. Her eyebrows were slightly furrowed, a slight, concerned tilt in her mouth. “I just…”
Caitlyn shook her head and tried for a smile, though it felt too heavy on her lips. “It’s alright, Vi. I understand.” She paused, then added, “When you’re ready, I’m here.”
Vi nodded, and then a slight smile tilted at her own lips.“Good luck talking to those prissy councilors.”
The pain in Caitlyn’s throat eased a little. She scoffed as she slipped out into the hallway. “Thanks,” she said. “I’ll need all the luck I can get.”
The conversation left Caitlyn feeling a little lighter on her feet, but still, her concern for Vi was a bullet lodged in her head the entire day. Even as she tried to listen attentively to the concerns of the remaining councilors - today’s argument was about who to appoint in the new, vacant seats - all she could think about was Vi.
When Caitlyn got home, she found her father sitting in the living room and asked if he’d checked up on her. He only looked at her in bewilderment and spread his hands out. “She never came down to eat,” he said, brows furrowing. “I haven’t seen her all day. I tried knocking on your door, but there was no answer. I figured she must have gone out for a bit.”
On any other day, that wouldn’t have been much of a surprise. But today, her father’s words made the anxiety in Caitlyn’s chest grow sharper, and she immediately set on looking for Vi somewhere in the house.
The familiar ache of tears pushed up against Caitlyn’s throat the more she looked around, only to find empty room after empty room. What if she left for good? Caitlyn wondered. Maybe spending a week with Caitlyn was enough to send her away. And she wouldn’t have been surprised; Vi looked like a lost child in the Kiramman mansion, her eyes wide and confused as she took everything in. Sure, it seemed like she’d been getting more comfortable with all the space around her, but Caitlyn knew how uncomfortable it made Vi. Everything in this house was just a reminder of all the things that she never had growing up - what people in the Undercity still don’t have.
The thought of Vi leaving without a word was a fear that Caitlyn had grown accustomed to in just the short time they’ve been together, and the more she looked around the house, the more she could feel her chest unraveling, like the tissue was threatening to break apart.
So the sight of Vi now, sprawled on the balcony floor, feels like a rush of cool air against Caitlyn’s skin. But seeing her look so dejectedly to the skyline, as if she’s looking for something, waiting for something, makes that relief very thin.
Caitlyn takes a deep breath and places a hand against the window. Then she taps her finger gently.
Vi’s head turns slowly at the noise, and when she finds Caitlyn there, Caitlyn’s surprised to see how dazed her eyes look - as if she’s waking up from another dream. Caitlyn can’t help the concern that tilts at her mouth, and Vi must clearly see it, because her shoulder rolls uncomfortably.
Caitlyn keeps her gaze on Vi for a second, and when Vi tips her head, Caitlyn takes that as her permission to open the door. The cool evening air wraps around Caitlyn as she opens it, and she shivers in her cardigan.
“Do you mind if I come out?” she asks. “I don’t want to impose if…”
She lets her words trail. Her earlier anxiety must have winded her of any energy, because she can’t find it in her to finish the thought. She only watches as Vi’s brows furrow in what Caitlyn assumes to be consideration. Her heartbeat picks up nervously, and she’s mentally preparing to leave again, but then a small smile tilts at Vi’s lips, and Caitlyn’s heart unclenches in relief.
“Nah,” Vi says. “I’ve been alone for too long today.”
Caitlyn throws a gentle, hesitant smile at Vi. She steps out, and the chilled marble of the floor of the balcony feels even more of a shock to Caitlyn’s bare feet. She can almost feel the dust pressing against her toes, and she grimaces. As she pads closer, she glances around at the empty chairs, and her smile turns slightly amused. “All these places to sit and you chose the floor?”
Vi smiles back a little wider, and Caitlyn’s grateful to see the ease in it now. “Your chairs are too fluffy and cushiony. Feels weird on my ass.”
Caitlyn laughs a little and settles beside Vi on the ground. She doesn’t press in too close, though; only enough that their shoulders brush.
Vi keeps her gaze on Caitlyn, but now she brings her knees to her chest and wraps her good arm around them, while her broken arm rests between her chest and thighs. Caitlyn leans back on her arms and crosses her legs in front of her, and for a moment, they wallow in the silence that blankets over them as Caitlyn prepares herself for the conversation hanging over them. The only sound is the occasional bird as it chirps away into the night.
Caitlyn takes a deep breath. Then, as a gentle leeway, she asks, “How was your day?”
Vi shrugs, but a new hollowness drills through her gray eyes, and an uncomfortable tingle crawls up Caitlyn's spine. Vi peels her gaze away and lets it stick to something on the floor. “Restless,” she offers. “Did a lot of wandering around today. Tried to clear my head.”
Caitlyn hums. “Did it work?”
Vi shrugs.
When Vi doesn’t say more, Caitlyn figures this might be as good a time as any. “Should we... talk about last night?”
Vi’s eyes tighten shut at her words, and Caitlyn immediately regrets asking. Vi’s head sinks into her arm, and Caitlyn’s about to retrace her steps, tell her that it’s perfectly fine if she doesn’t want to, but then she nods into her elbow. Slowly, she lifts her head and rubs the heels of her hand between her eyebrows, as if trying to clear away whatever hesitation she has.
She blinks a few times, then lets her legs stretch out in front of her again and starts playing with her sling. She still doesn’t meet Caitlyn’s eyes, but she rolls her shoulder, as if trying to take out the kinks in her body before getting herself ready to work.
Caitlyn holds her breath.
Vi releases a long sigh. When she speaks again, her voice sounds thick, like her tongue is too big for her mouth. “There’s this… nightmare I’ve kept having over the years,” she murmurs, almost nervously.
Vi falls quiet again. Caitlyn tips her head patiently.
When Vi looks back at Caitlyn and sees her waiting, she lets go of a breath, as if almost relieved to see Caitlyn’s still here.
“It’s the night I left my sister,” she mutters, and Caitlyn can’t help noticing the darkness of her eyes now, their gray turned into shadows as she surges into her memory. “At that moment, I was really angry. I mean, my dad just died, you know? And the rest of my family, too. And… I’d just found out Jinx - Powder - came after I told her not to, and she was the reason that the building exploded, and… I got so angry.” Vi winces. “So I slapped her, and she fell over. Then I grabbed her face in my hand, and I just… started squeezing really hard.” Her eyes turn back on Caitlyn, and her pupils swell pleadingly, as if begging Caitlyn for understanding. “I was so angry. I didn’t realize how much it must have actually hurt her. And it must have been really hard, because her nose started… bleeding.” Vi’s eyes close shut again. A painful frown pinches her brows as she turns her head away. “And then… I called her a fucking jinx.”
Caitlyn’s heart shudders at the way Vi’s voice suddenly hitches. The pain in her words feels so jagged, so real, that it makes her ribs ring in desperation. She wants to reach out, to touch Vi, but that might be a bad idea. She seems too deeply engorged in her memory, like she’s physically living in the moment again. Caitlyn gets the sense that if she were to touch her, Vi might take it as pity, and she knows she wouldn’t like that. So she keeps her hand to herself.
With a start, she realizes that, in Vi’s eyes, this must have been the moment to start it all.
“In my nightmares,” Vi continues, “when I squeeze her face, it starts with a little bit of blood. But then it gets all over my fingers, and I try taking my hand away, but I just can’t move it. It’s like my fingers are permanently glued to her face. And the blood keeps coming, faster and thicker, and it practically gushes all over my arm, and meanwhile Powder’s still screaming and crying, and I’m trying to let go but I just can’t . My hand’s just stuck there, squeezing harder and harder. And then eventually she gets really pale and her eyes start fluttering, and I’m screaming that I’m sorry, that I need her to stay with me, but… she passes out. And only then, only when she’s passed out, I can move my hand again, but by then… it’s too late.” Vi runs a hand through her hair and sinks her head into her arm again. “There’s a whole pool of blood beneath us, and Powder’s dead in my arms.”
Caitlyn feels her brows furrowing into a frown. She’s trying to fish for words, anything to make Vi feel better, or, at the very least, express her sympathy, but nothing comes to mind. What can she even say to a description like that?
But Vi isn’t done. After a moment, she huffs and lifts her head again, and a tear glistens off the bridge of her nose. “That dream’s changed over the years,” she mutters, and her shoulders hunch to her ears. “After that night at the temple, when I almost killed her, the dream got worse. It would start with Powder’s face in my hand, and the blood would come down like always, and I wouldn’t be able to move my hand. But then, after I’d call her a jinx, that word just… it would just keep echoing around us, louder and louder each time, and I’d get so sick of hearing my voice. I’d hear myself saying stop, but the ‘jinx’ would just keep fucking going . And Powder would be suffocating in my hand, blood still fucking gushing out of her nose, but just before she’d pass out…” Vi closes her eyes again. “Her face would become Jinx’s. And she’d say…” - a breath yanks through her teeth - “she’d say, ‘It had to be you.’ And then she’d fall into me, dead, and when I’d raise her face, it would become Powder’s again.”
Caitlyn closes her eyes. She doesn’t know much about what Jinx looked like as a child, but she tries to imagine it - maybe shorter hair, same pigtail braids? Same wide, babyish eyes that Caitlyn had grown to hate looking for. What color would they have been, without the shimmer? Vi’s gray ones? Caitlyn tries to put them on Jinx, but she just can’t imagine it. She doesn’t remember what color they were when she first met Jinx.
She can’t remember them as anything but raging violet.
The thought makes Caitlyn’s skin prickle with guilt. Vi has only ever seen her as the little sister she left behind all those years ago, while Caitlyn’s only ever known Jinx as the broken girl she became.
Vi’s voice swims through Caitlyn’s ears again, and her thoughts come racing back to focus as she listens. Now Vi’s leaning against the table again, legs stretched out ahead of her as she lets her head fall back, eyes trained on the darkening skies. Her throat bobs as she swallows, then continues.
“Last night was different,” she says. “Last night, Powder’s face still became Jinx’s, but my voice saying ‘jinx’ suddenly… stopped. It rang for a little bit, but then it stopped. Jinx’s nose was still bleeding, but this time I could finally move my hand, so I did. And I reached for her, immediately. I wanted to hug her, to hold her in my arms and tell her how sorry I was for hurting her. But the second I let go, a massive glowing hole opened up underneath us, and I tried to scoot back, but Jinx….” Vi’s breath cracks, and she throws her good hand to her eyes. “All I could do was watch as she fell.”
The air around them ripples at Vi’s words, and Caitlyn gets the sense this might be the last of the dream that she speaks about. Caitlyn knows she should say something, to keep the silence at bay, but every time she tries to say something - anything - the words die in her throat. All she can think to do is put her hand on Vi’s back, to tell her what she can’t say. Vi barely flinches at her touch, and it makes Caitlyn’s chest ache; she looks so lost in her own world, so unaware of the present.
The chill of the evening - now growing into a darker blue as night approaches - settles over them, and Caitlyn draws her sweater tighter over herself. She glances at Vi, who’s now rubbing her temples with a forefinger and thumb and blinking rapidly, and Caitlyn’s skin prickles with more goosebumps at the sight of her in only a tank top and sweatpants.
“Are you cold?” she whispers. Then she silently curses herself. After everything Vi just told her, this is the best she could come up with?
Vi glances at her, and her eyes flicker as if she’s only now realizing Caitlyn’s still here. She shrugs and draws her knees to her chest again, leans her chin against her arms, and Caitlyn takes this moment to peel her sweater off and wrap it over Vi’s shoulders instead.
She runs her hand over her back, brushes it repeatedly over the rows of her spine as she looks for something to say. She knows Vi can tell she’s nervous; she keeps glancing back at Caitlyn every time even a breath comes out, but her eyes are hollow shells, watching Caitlyn as if she’s watching her through a glass.
“I’m sorry, Vi,” Caitlyn musters, and the very words exhaust her as they come out, like the dying puffs of an engine. “I… I know I’ve said this a million times now, but I am. About your sister, your family. About all of it. The things you had to go through.”
Vi shrugs. “You weren’t the one who left your sister to a power-hungry druglord. That wasn’t your fault.”
That’s also something Caitlyn’s heard a million times in just the past few days. Vi’s dejectedness, her guilt over every possible thing. Her apologies for not being by Caitlyn’s side immediately after the battle; her regret at not jumping to the other ledge when Jinx told her to; her anguish at seeing her sister fall. Her relentless pleas that It should have been me.
And it makes Caitlyn’s heart ache, knowing just how much pain Vi’s been through. How many people she’s lost. She still doesn’t know all of Vi’s story, and maybe that’s something that will come along with time, but Vi’s guilt is written all over her body, in the bruises and cuts still healing, in the quiet way she holds herself these days. She’s not the fiery, adamant girl she met in the prison all those months ago; it’s like the fire’s just a flicker glowing in the shadows of her soul, waiting to be reignited.
But Caitlyn doesn’t know how to reignite it. If Vi even wants to. Or if Vi’s even supposed to.
“I just… don’t really know what else to say,” Caitlyn says, finally. She shrugs hopelessly. “I know I keep saying it, but you can’t blame yourself for everything. You didn’t know what would happen when you left your sister. You aren’t responsible for all of it.” Caitlyn closes her good eye as a new irritation prickles at her skin - irritation with herself for not being able to say anything else, for not being able to offer more. “Everything I say now just feels repetitive, but know that I genuinely mean all of it, Vi.”
“I know you mean it, Cait.” Caitlyn opens her eye at her name and finds Vi looking at her. Her eyes are soft, sad. “And I appreciate you trying to comfort me.” She sighs heavily. “It’s just… I can’t stop thinking about how different things would’ve been if I’d just never left her. If I’d protected her like my father asked me to.”
Caitlyn looks at her, and all of a sudden, a new ache of tears pushes against her throat. She tries to swallow it away, but it just hurts worse. She leans her head against Vi’s shoulder and sighs. “I know.” She revels in the way Vi’s shoulder brushes under her lips as she speaks, and a part of her wishes she could just kiss all her thoughts and apologies and comfort into Vi’s skin. That would certainly be easier, but she doesn’t think that’s what Vi needs right now. She needs something more than symbols; she needs something more promising. “I just… don’t know what else to say, to help you feel…”
Feel… what? Not “normal.” Normal implies there’s a way to forget the things she’s gone through, the things they’ve both gone through. Normal implies there was a stagnant way to be before this, and Caitlyn knows without a doubt that nothing in Vi’s life has ever been stagnant.
Caitlyn frowns in thought, and after a moment, the words come to her. “Feel more human.” Because that is what Vi is. She’s human. Every mistake she’s made, it’s all human mistakes.
A warmth spills into her palm, and she looks down to see Vi holding her hand. A surprised breath pulls in through Caitlyn’s teeth, and when she looks up, she finds Vi’s eyes glistening as tears glaze over them, but there’s a slight smile in her lips. “You don’t have to say anything,” Vi says. “Thank you, Cait, for trying to comfort me. But, honestly, I think you’ve expended all the words you need to. I just… I think it’s a me issue.” Vi looks away. “I don’t think it’s going to go away soon - ever, to be honest. I think I just need time to live with the guilt.”
Caitlyn nods slowly. She looks out at the city around them, watches as more lights flicker on to fight the darkness of a night. And beyond that, she can see the faint greenish glow of the Undercity, its own towers reaching up desperately.
How shocking it is to see the skyline now, knowing that just a few days ago, they were cleaning blood off the streets from the battle. A battle sparked at Caitlyn’s own ignorance and naiveté.
“I can understand that.” Caitlyn flicks her eyebrow, and despite herself, an amused huff escapes her. “I suppose we have more time now than we’ve ever had.”
“Yeah.” Vi looks out, too. “I guess we do.”
Another silence falls over them, and this one feels a little lighter, a little warmer than the chill around them. Vi leans her head against Caitlyn’s shoulder, and for a brief second, it hits Caitlyn that Vi’s initiating this - the touching, the leaning. She smiles softly to herself.
But as they sit in this silence, gaze into the night bleeding into the sky, as Caitlyn basks in Vi’s warmth, she finds her thoughts tumbling back to her dream. About how little she knows about Vi, and how little she knows about her sister. Caitlyn can’t shake the guilt she feels, knowing there is nothing for her to look back on Jinx - Powder.
She doesn’t think she could ever forgive Jinx for what she did to her mother. She doesn’t know the girl that Vi does. And it’s a little difficult for her to match that image of a younger sister - a girl that Vi talks about with so much love - to that of the girl who kidnapped Caitlyn and killed her mother. But at the same time, the loss of Jinx also weighs on Caitlyn’s chest, on behalf of Vi. For the sister she’ll never get to meet.
Even after everything, Vi holds so much love for her. So much so, in fact, that she was willing to risk Caitlyn’s own trust in return for her sister just a few weeks ago.
Caitlyn isn’t angry about that anymore. When Vi stormed her way to Jinx’s cell, Caitlyn had made peace with the fact that there was a good chance Vi was going to leave with her sister, that she might never get to see Vi again. At that point, she’d realized that having Jinx in a cell - something she’d been hoping so long for - didn’t actually help her feel better about her mother. If anything, it only made her feel worse . Because she knew her mother wouldn’t have wanted this - having the Undercity set to shambles all in search for one teenage girl. Her mother wouldn’t have liked to see the person she’d become, all in the name of love and grief.
Not only that, but seeing Vi with her family for that briefest moment at the commune made Caitlyn realize just how far she was willing to go for them. And despite her anger at Vi’s distrust, the sight made her feel sick with regret, more than anything else. She realized, at that moment, just what she was robbing by chasing after Jinx. By looking out for her own family, she was risking another. Risking several more.
But perhaps what slapped Caitlyn the most was what Jinx had told her when she went to visit her in her cell. I didn’t know your mom was there.
How idiotic Caitlyn felt. Here she was, spending all her time and energy searching for Jinx, only to find out her mother was just Jinx’s lucky fucking shot. If not her mother, it would have been someone else. Not that it would have made the event any better, but ever since that day, she’s kept herself awake wondering how things would have been different if it hadn't been her mother. Would she have had nearly the same emotional reaction? Would she have wanted to hunt Jinx down with the same fervor?
Or would she have been more compassionate of Jinx? Would she have been able to see the little sister Vi talked so fondly of?
So Caitlyn would have understood if Vi left with Jinx that night before the war. Had even prepared herself for that loss. Vi was going to choose her family until the very end, and that was something Caitlyn had come to peace with.
Which is why it shocked her when she found Vi locked in that cell instead, and no sign of Jinx.
Caitlyn sighs now as she thinks about all of it, and Vi looks at her. Her eyebrow raises in question, and Caitlyn turns to her, her own brows cowering nervously over her forehead.
Vi nudges her questioningly.
Caitlyn sighs. “Can I ask you something?”
Vi nods, but now her brows pinch nervously.
Caitlyn hesitates. Then, with great effort, she removes her hand from Vi’s back. She’s not sure why, but she doesn’t want to be touching Vi as she asks. Some part of her thinks it might influence her answer, even though she doubts that.
Caitlyn takes a deep breath, then lets it out. “That day you went to get Jinx from her cell,” Caitlyn starts. Her voice catches in her throat, and she tries to clear it. “If she hadn’t left… would you have run away with her?”
Vi looks at Caitlyn for a moment, her gray eyes like icicles, and mixed with the new chilled breeze that flits past, Caitlyn’s face stings under them. There’s a hardened glaze in them, like she’s trying to read Caitlyn through some sort of one-sided glass.
Finally, Vi speaks, but she averts her eyes from Caitlyn, and Caitlyn doesn’t miss the way her fingers clench in her lap. “I didn’t go to run away with her,” she says cautiously. “I went to ask her to join us.”
Caitlyn nods, but her fingers scrunch together on the ground. That’s not exactly what she’s asking, and she knows Vi knows that, if the slowness in her words says anything.
“But if she offered to run away,” Catlyn says, more deliberate now, “to just be together, would you have gone with her?” Would you have left your home on the brink of crumbling for the chance to forget your past?
Vi’s quiet now, and she turns her gaze back out, towards the warm glow of the cities as they brighten into the night. Her jaw clenches as she tries to bring her thoughts together, and with every passing second, Caitlyn’s lungs grow tighter.
Then Vi sighs heavily. “You’re asking that as if there weren’t other things to consider, like the fact that there was literally a war on our front step.” She tilts her head, and her hair falls into her eyes as she considers her answer. “I don’t know. I think the war kind of changed my perspective a bit. I wasn’t going to just leave my home when it needed me most. But… I guess, in a perfect world where we didn’t have to care about a war…” Vi huffs humorlessly. “Actually, in a perfect world, it would’ve always been me and Powder.” Then she meets Caitlyn’s eyes, and Caitlyn’s heart aches at the guilt hardening over them. “But otherwise… yeah, given the chance, I would have left with her.”
Even though it was a truth Caitlyn had been expecting, her next breath still feels like a knife being drawn out of her chest.
Vi must see the anguish in Caitlyn’s eyes, because she speaks again, and this time Caitlyn meets her gaze. There’s pain there, but there’s a certain vulnerability, too; she looks the rawest Caitlyn has ever seen her. “I wouldn’t have told you this if I didn’t think you couldn’t handle it, Cait,” Vi says softly.
Caitlyn takes another deep breath and closes her good eye, then nods slowly. “I know,” she whispers. “I think I just needed to hear you say it.”
Silence settles over them again, but this one feels cold, almost acidic. It burns Caitlyn’s skin, and she opens her eye to scratch her arms. When she looks over at Vi, she finds her looking down at her feet, fresh tears cowering at the corners of her eyes, like new blood emerging after picking at an old scab.
“Would you have lied to me if you thought I couldn’t handle it?” asks Caitlyn.
Vi looks at her now. She waits a moment before responding. “No,” she decides. “I would’ve been honest with you. But I would’ve felt a lot worse about telling you.”
Caitlyn nods, but now the ache of tears that bobbed in her throat earlier starts climbing up into her head, into the back of her head. And then her vision turns blurry, and she feels something warm slip out of the corner of her eye, and after that it’s like a dam has been broken - her tears just keep falling, warm and itchy against her face but cold on her bare hands as she tries to wipe them away. Her breath hitches once, then again, and she can feel Vi’s eyes drilling into her. Even though Caitlyn won’t look her in the face, she can feel her guilt burning a hole through her, and she wishes Vi would look away.
But she can’t help the tears. She knew the truth Vi was going to admit to her. She understood it, even. If anything, Vi deserved to be with her remaining family. But now that she’s heard it, it makes the reality of that truth she knew so much harsher.
“Cait-” Vi starts, but her voice - brimming with guilt, with anguish - is too much for Caitlyn. The last thing she wants is for Vi to feel guilty over her. She doesn’t deserve it.
Caitlyn shakes her head and holds a hand out to Vi, pressing her face into her other, trying to push the tears back in. “No,” she says. “You’re going to apologize. Don’t, Vi. I would have done the same in your position.” Her breath hitches, and her stomach burns with anger; she hates how she must look right now to Vi. She can already feel Vi’s guilt echoing in waves off her body, stinging against her own skin. “I just… I just need a minute to live with that. That there’s a possibility where I would have lost you for good.”
Caitlyn knows, in truth, that she would have eventually learned to live with Vi’s loss. Sure, it would have hurt, but dealing with Vi’s decision to leave would have been a walk in the park compared to the things they’ve had to go through just to be together. It would have stung, but it would’ve only left a scar, not a festering wound.
But now, knowing the kinds of sacrifices they’ve made to end up at this point, the kinds of sacrifices Vi’s made to end up here now, she knows that their wounds are going to take a long time to heal. Vi’s might bleed for years.
For a few heavy moments, the only sound is of Caitlyn’s jagged breathing as she tries to reign in her tears, along with Vi’s own intermittent sniffling, which only causes Caitlyn’s chest to ache more. She can’t even bear the thought of looking at Vi right now - she doesn’t want to see her tears, the guilt etched into her face, the unnecessary guilt. Vi shouldn’t have to feel guilty for choosing her own happiness.
“Cait,” Vi says again, but this time it’s softer, just barely above a whisper, pleading. So Caitlyn looks up, finally, to meet Vi’s eyes, and she finds Vi chewing on her bottom lip, a pinch in her brows. Guilt is in fact written on her face, but Caitlyn’s relieved to see that there’s something more determined in her features that overpowers it.
“There’s no point asking about the what-ifs,” Vi says. “Trust me, I know how tempting it is. But it’s a sure way to drive yourself crazy.” She takes a deep breath. And then, to Caitlyn’s surprise, Vi takes her hand into her own. It sends another sob racking Caitlyn’s chest, and she holds a hand to her mouth to muffle the sound. This hand that she’d longed so much for, the months they’d been apart, now coming into her own. And all it took was several hundred dead bodies.
“We have each other now, right?” Vi says, tilting her head forward, so that it’s in Caitlyn’s view. There’s so much sincerity in her eyes it makes Caitlyn’s stomach clench. “Does it matter what happens in the other situations if this is where we are now?”
Doesn’t it? Caitlyn wonders. There’s a possibility where you could have lived the life you wanted with your sister.
And then it hits Caitlyn, like a punch to the gut, how ridiculous she sounds. She’s living in all these what-if moments, questioning the lives that could have happened had something else happened, but Vi’s words feel like a bucket of cold water. This is exactly how Vi’s been living all these years. And it’s not like Caitlyn hasn’t had her fair share of considering the what-ifs for so many other situations - what if she hadn’t joined the Enforcers? what if she hadn’t pried into the raid at the hexgates? what if she hadn’t taken Ambessa’s hand? what if it hadn’t been her mother killed, but someone else? - but when Vi says that, Caitlyn realizes how terrible it is for her to be asking Vi this at all. She’s only engaging the very thought process that Vi should be battling. Even if there is truth to the other possibilities, they’re not the ones they’re living in right now.
“I’m sorry,” Caitlyn breathes, and now she snaps her gaze to Vi, her good eye bearing into her. “You’re right. It wasn’t fair of me to ask you that.”
Vi shakes her head. “Don’t be sorry. I get it.” She shrugs. “It’s something I’ve wondered, too. And I think I’ve always known my answer. I just… never knew if you did. Never knew how to bring it up to you, if I ever needed to.”
Caitlyn’s overcome with a sudden, nauseating urge to touch Vi. So she reaches her hand out to hold Vi’s cheek in her palm, gently pushes a stray hair with her index finger, feels her skin warm and humming underneath her fingertips. A surprised breath yanks through Vi’s teeth, and she blinks at Caitlyn. But that surprise lasts barely a second before she lets her face press deeper into Caitlyn’s palm, and her lip trembles as more tears crack her face.
“I think I’ve always known the answer,” Caitlyn says. “You were always going to choose your sister, until you couldn’t.” She hesitates, then, slowly, she leans her head forward to press it to Vi’s. The breath that comes out of Vi makes her body shudder, and it makes Caitlyn’s throat pulse in pain again. She brings the hand on Vi’s face to the back of her neck, strokes her thumb gently against her warm skin. “I just… I want you to know that I would have understood if you’d left with her.” She pauses for a moment, then sighs. “I think that’s why I asked. So that you knew I understood.”
Vi’s tears so far have been silent, which is why, when a sob cracks out of her, it makes Caitlyn flinch. But then Vi’s crumbling, sinking deeper into herself, her forehead slipping from Caitlyn’s and onto her nose. Caitlyn reaches around Vi, wraps her arms around her back, and Vi drops her head against Caitlyn’s shoulder. Her back pulses with each sob that cracks her body, and Caitlyn holds her through each whip of pain.
After a little while, Vi’s breathing becomes a little more even, and she draws her arms around Caitlyn’s waist. Caitlyn can feel her fingers digging underneath her shirt, drawing tiny circles against her lower back, so Caitlyn returns the favor by pressing a kiss to Vi’s neck.
“Cait?” Vi croaks.
Caitlyn doesn’t say anything, only presses her nose deeper into Vi’s neck.
“I know it hurt you when I said I’d choose my sister,” Vi murmurs. “But I hope you know it would never have been an easy decision. And I hope you know that I don’t regret being with you now. Don’t… don’t feel guilty, okay?”
Caitlyn doesn’t trust herself to speak. She knows she can’t promise to not feel guilty, just the way Vi can’t do the same. So she only squeezes her eye shut and nods.
Vi’s arms around Caitlyn start loosening, and Caitlyn lets her pull away, even though now there’s a new chill in her body. But that chill barely lasts a second before Vi presses her hands to either side of Caitlyn’s face, and the gesture makes her feel so whole that it makes her heart swell.
Vi’s chin trembles. “Can you do something for me, Cait?”
Caitlyn nods. She finds her voice immediately. “Whatever you need.”
Vi keeps her gaze on Caitlyn for a moment. Then, to her surprise, Vi leans over and puts her head in her lap. Vi brings Caitlyn’s hand to her cheek and presses the back of it gently, so that her face fills her palm even more. Her eyes flutter close, and a sudden flare of heat erupts in Caitlyn’s heart at the sight. She runs her free hand against Vi’s side gently, feels the hills of her ribs coursing under her fingers, watches Vi’s back fall as a breath releases out of her.
“Just be here,” Vi whispers. “I don’t want to ask you to not change. I think I’ve realized that’s pretty stupid. But if you change… don’t leave me behind this time.” Vi spreads Caitlyn’s fingers open over her cheek and lets her hand dip into the spaces between them, and as her eyes flutter close again, Caitlyn can feel a tear slip out from her eyes, sneaking in between Caitlyn’s fingertips. “Just be here, okay? And I’ll be here for you.”
Caitlyn leans forward and presses a kiss to Vi’s shoulder. Then she presses one to her neck, then her jaw, then near her ear. “I’m here, Vi,” she promises. “I’m all here.”
That night, Vi jolts awake as another nightmare gripes at her. It takes Caitlyn a moment to convince Vi to lie back down again, but she returns, sinking slowly, as if afraid the bed might whisk her back into the shadows of her nightmares.
Even after the majority of Vi’s shock filters away, Caitlyn can still hear the echoes of her jagged breathing, like she’s being stabbed slowly and repeatedly every few moments. And again, Vi refuses to try to fall back asleep. So again, Caitlyn figures the best she can do is hold Vi as she trembles, to offer her some sense of warmth. She circles an arm around Vi’s waist and curls herself around her body, presses her nose to the back of her neck. And after a few moments, Vi tangles her fingers into Caitlyn’s and squeezes it over her stomach.
For a few moments, Caitlyn simply listens to Vi breathe. She times her own breathing with Vi’s, feeling the way her stomach rises with every inhale and releases with every exhale, and strokes her hair back with her other hand.
Then Vi presses Caitlyn’s hand to her cheek, and Caitlyn can feel the heat of her breath as it flows between her fingers, the chill of a few tears as they trickle underneath her palm. But Caitlyn doesn’t brush them away now, only lets them run under her touch.
This time, she’ll let the tears dry on their own.