Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Two hours.

It would take two hours give or take and she’d find a way to excuse herself, like every other time she got tired of her parents' incessant nagging.

The more she thought about it though, the more quickly she realized, there was no point in counting.

If her emotions willed it, two hours could feel like an eternity.

Her mother and father greeted both her and Jayce by the door. A maid trailed behind them, offering one hand to take their coat. As a simple act of defiance, Cait pulled her bag closer to herself. The last thing she wanted was any form of charity from her parents, even if an offer from a maid was almost rutinary.

Pleasantries started and within seconds, they ceased and her mother transitioned so seamlessly to talk about how much she missed Jayce and how much she brightly glowed with pride with his every development as councilor.

“And I’m sure Caitlyn missed you, even if she has been a bit…snappy lately.”

Cait couldn't stifle the twitch at the side of her mouth fast enough.

Her mother called her ‘snappy.’

Snappy.

And admittedly, she was snappy.

The incessant accusations towards Vi. A missing Jinx that she was raring to find. The guards by the door of Vi’s hospital room. Her inability to get back to work.

Yes, objectively, they would all explain her snappy mood. At the same time, it seemed somewhat insulting to chalk her own mood up, to something as simple as being “moody” or “snappy.”

The insult left something boiling in Cait’s stomach.

She managed to bite back any semblance of a scathing remark and added to her mother’s tirade and her blatant comparisons of her and Jayce, with a simple nod and some thinly disguised irritation between gritted teeth. She slung her bag over her shoulder, muttered something unintelligible, making sure to add some emphasis to “freshening up” and “upstairs.”

But that didn’t seem like enough. “I’m sure you’re joining us this evening, right Caitlyn?” her mother asked.

Although Cait liked to rebel when she could, liked to say no when she could, there were other times when it seemed completely unnecessary.

Risk her sanity that night and sit through another meal and potentially get information or sit in her room and wallow in self pity, risking whatever good graces she had left with Jayce.

And Jayce could be the key to seeing Vi.

It was an easy choice to make.

“Of course,” she said. “As I said, I just need time to freshen up.”

Cait did away with her civilian clothing and decided on a simple dress, leaving it by her bed as she entered the shower.

It was under the hot water in her marble bathroom, writing nothings on the mirror of her shower was she reminded of how exhausted she actually was. She could collapse at any moment. With that, she had half the mind to just ditch the dinner.

Then an unwelcome thought prickled at the back of her mind.

If at that moment, Jayce told her, “you can visit Vi,” if that evening, Ekko had found a way to contact her, saying Jinx had been found, she was certain, she would keep moving either way.

To hell with the limitations of her own body.

Conditional exhaustion. She named it and she decided, if any development would keep her on the case, then she wasn’t that exhausted.

Then there was a rush, a quick second wind, which brought her back to Jayce’s comment.

If Vi… was manipulating you? He had suggested just that afternoon.

As the words echoed, the warm water was suddenly cold on her back. She opened her palm, running her hand through the warm water gushing from the faucet.

It was warm, definitely warm. Yet, her body felt cold.

She was in the same bathroom that Jinx had kidnapped her in only days ago. She looked back, towards the area where she had seen violet eyes peeping out.

Violet.

Vi was Jinx’s sister.

Jinx had kidnapped her, threatened to kill her, held a gun to her face, and she might have even gone through with it if Vi hadn’t stopped her.

Was Vi any different?

Jayce had warned her himself.

Yet, she had seen Vi back there in the factory, begging her sister to put down her gun, offering to run away with her. She had seen Jinx aim a cannon at the sky and she saw Vi go after her.

And she had seen her much frailer younger sister almost kill Vi then only seconds later did Vi still lunge in between them to protect her as Cait had fired the gun.

Vi wasn’t manipulative at all. If Cait had to bet her own sanity, her own logic that she had prided herself in many times before, she would have.

But, she would be lying, if she told anyone, that Jayce’s own questions hadn’t shaken her even just a bit. If anything at all, the stress of a few days ago had her emotional.

Admittedly, she was vulnerable.

Terribly vulnerable.

If she dwelt on it any longer, she wouldn't move at all. She dragged herself out of the shower, pulled the simple gown over her half dried body, splashed some cold water on her face, not caring about the droplets that stained her collar as she patted herself down.

It was a simple dinner and although she had been raised to dress well, she couldn’t be arsed at that moment.Going down, she took one step at a time, clutching the polished mahogany hard enough that it stung. When she turned at the first landing, she saw the light of the dining room peeking from underneath, and as she neared, the hushed voices became more intelligible.

Stillwater.

And suddenly, even before she was aware of it, she sped up.

It was her mother talking just behind the door.

“We all know Caitlyn… councilor…. To get Vi out of jail.”

“Yes… but it turned out…. Vi…. special case…. Given Marcus…”

Special?

Cait pressed her ear against the door.

“Marcus….Wasn’t he a traitor?”

“Yes, and apparently, it was Marcus who sent Vi to prison, the one who held on to her records…made it so that it wouldn’t reach the archives,” Jayce continued. “I want to do my own investigation, talk to the admins, the other prisoners, see what I’m missing about her…”

“But with what’s happening… worth our time?”

“Even then… Still worth a posthumous investigation…”

Posthumous.

They were talking about Marcus. She had gone through his files in the archive. She had done research on his cooperation with Silco and there was still a lot they did not know.

Cait wanted to continue listening but she was very much aware, if she entered the room, they could just stop talking altogether. Standing around, ear pressed against the door didn’t seem like the best position to ever get caught in.

She looked around, there were no maids. She could sit there for longer if she wanted.

The conversation quickly died down though, replaced by the sound of spoons and forks tapping on plates, and then, footsteps towards the door.

Cait tensed, stood up straight and straightened out her skirt.

It was her father who opened the door. His expression softened, enough to shake off at least some of the bad energy that concentrated inside her.

Enough for her not to forget her pleasantries. “I took a quick shower. Sorry for the wait,” she said calmly.

Tobias shook his head and smiled softly. “No. We’re honestly happy to have you here with us, committing to just spending time with us. It’s been a while since we’ve eaten together like this.”

“And I’d rather we put this behind us. At least for the night.” Cassandra added from behind him.

Posthumous. The word hung heavy on Cait’s mind. She settled down on the chair and pulled the fork from the side and she watched and waited, as her mother worked on her own salad, her father sat silent and Jayce continued to talk, this time, about updates on Mel’s investments and ventures, a topic that Cait let flow in one ear, then out the other.

Five or ten minutes passed before an opportunity presented itself, a welcoming silence in between talks on new plans for the hexgate.“I have one question…” Cait started. “You have plans on a posthumous investigation right?”

Cassandra dropped her salad fork and glared at Cait. “I have one request, if you may. Let’s avoid some blacklisted topics.”

“Blacklisted topics?” Cait repeated hesitantly.

Cassandra listed them out briefly.

Marcus.

As if none of them had mentioned that name one too many times only minutes ago

Jayce’s investigation.

As if this hadn’t been the centerpiece of their conversation as Cait had eavesdropped on one door.

Vi.

Cait was dreaming of leaving already.

She lowered her head towards her plate, feigning some business over mixing an undressed salad.. She always sat by her mother’s side over dinners, and she had gotten used to the same pattern over time. If she looked up, even showed the smallest glimmer of defiance, her mother would comment, like she always did.

So, she had built some habit of just lowering her head, just enough to occupy herself.

The food was already lined up in front of her: a simple clear herbed soup, and some tossed greens. Cait reached for the dressing, suddenly aware with the grumbling of her stomach, that her last meal had been breakfast.

“Caitlyn, Jayce and I were discussing a new position for you.”

“Hmm?”

“If you’re interested, we could develop it further. Just something for you to pass the time.”

“What kind?” Cait muttered.

“You’ll be drafting letters to potential investors, mingling with patrons, organizing events…” Cassandra paused in thought. “It’s more exciting than it sounds actually. You’ll be doing a lot of traveling and since you enjoy adventure, it might suit you.”

“Sounds life changing,” Cait deadpanned..

“Maybe after a few months working there, you’d genuinely think it is.” Cassandra added with one raised eyebrow.

“Tell me mother, what would the job entail?”

“You’d go with Jayce on business trips, around Piltover, all the way to Noxus, maybe even Ionia or Demacia.”

“And do what exactly.”

“You build relationships with potential sponsors, researchers…” her mother answered matter-of-factly.

“And what? Wave at patrons, gush about their ideas?”

Her father cleared his throat.

“Then you’ll probably want me following Jayce around, nodding excitedly from behind him every time he talks about his hextech discoveries. You know, add more life to the crowd.”

“Caitlyn,” her father coughed.

Cait turned to her mother, then to Jayce, expressions on both of their faces, a mix of shock and confusion. “So the job you’re suggesting for me is… a professional bootlicker, basically.”

Cassandra averted her gaze. “It’s a position that demands respect, a lot more than what an enforcer would ever get in their lifetime.”

“After everything Jayce has been working on, you think I’d gladly accept this?

“Jayce is still like a brother to you. You grew up together and like us, he only has your best interests at heart. I hope you don’t forget that.” The words alone were warm, but the way Cassandra had delivered them was scathing.

“Oh, why would I forget?” Cait muttered half heartedly.

“Caitlyn,” Cassandra said. “Do you mind eating a little more gracefully?”

And the sudden digression had her frozen, suddenly taking stock of her own movements. Was she shoveling the food in her mouth? Was she shaking? Her salad was overmixed, drenched, cut up into pieces too small to be appetizing.

Her mother had shaken her, but two could play at that game. She turned to Jayce. “Could you tell me a little bit about… how a posthumous investigation works?”

Jayce flashed her a dumbfounded look.

She couldn’t feel too bad about it. when Jayce was being a bumbling idiot, her parents were complete hypocrites and all three have been skirting the lines of blacklisted topics for the night blatantly. The only thing that had her skirting the lines of their conversation instead of blatantly pointing it out was the fact that she was very much guilty of eavesdropping.

Jayce turned to her mother before flashing her a wry smile “You know we can't talk about it.”

“Then why were you mentioning it just a while back?” Caitlyn challenged.

Jayce raised his eyebrows in surprise, muttered something unintelligible to himself. His eyebrows soon furrowed, his mouth fell and his face twisted into an expression of genuine concern.

Cassandra waved her hand, a quick attempt at attention, or maybe an attempt to change the topic altogether “Jayce… Tell us, you had dinner with the Ferros family?”

It seemed to work. Jayce quickly nodded in response. “Of course, we had to discuss the recent happenings after all. It's inevitable that Ferros family would catch wind of my meeting with Silco. Especially, since the safety of Pltover is in their best interest.” He spoke slowly and he was careful with his words, as if admirably, he respected Cassandra’s shoddily-made blacklist which had too many double standards for her taste.

“Hopefully everything works out. You’re one of the best people to be talking to the Ferros family,” Cassandra said with a nod of approval. “It’s much easier to talk to Camille if you’re patient and cooperative.”

“Mel was much better at that.,” Jayce added. “That’s how she became a representative of the Ferros family after all..”

“Yes, that family prefers not to be figureheads themselves, but believe me, they are responsible for a lot of the prosperity here in Piltover, so I would keep them close if I were you.”

Ferros.

It had been a while since Cait had heard about them. They had been in a few of their dinners, a passing name. There hadn’t been anyone her age, anyone to make friends with.

So they had been nothing more than a name in her mother’s parties, and finally, as she thought about it, probably one of the wealthiest families in Piltover.

Of course it would be their business. Any changes to business in Zaun were their business.

And she couldn’t help but notice the way Jayce had opened his mouth, closed it again, then cleared his throat. “It was… a fruitful discussion.”

Silence.

Cait saw more opportunity. “Tell me, Jayce, how was it fruitful?” Cait said. “I’m sure she's had a lot to say about the news that has been going around.”

“About the delayed shipments to Noxus. The delayed construction of Hexgates, of course they have.”

“Oh. Then have they said anything about it?” Cait pressed

“Of course, they’d want it fixed as soon as possible but with what’s going on…”

Cait didn’t wait for a response. “You mean the civil unrest in Zaun?”

“Caitlyn…” First it was her father.

“And the killer of Silco not yet behind bars?”

“Caitlyn!” Then her mother.

“There are lots of criminals running around.”

“Caitlyn!” Cassandra slammed her fork back down on the wood of the table. “If you’re just going to spoil the dinner with that attitude you’re free to leave.”

“If you’re just going to censor topics because they’re not to your taste, then maybe this dinner wasn't worth going to anyway.”

“Caitlyn…” Tobias was once again the mediator. “Would you like to talk about anything?”

“Marcus, Jayce’s investigation, Vi.” She made sure to mimic her mother’s tone of a second ago, only stumbling at that last name.

I wanna see Vi. I want this to be all over.

By god, despite her inability to chew with her mouth closed, Vi would have been a better dinner companion a million times over.

She kept the last few parts to herself as she stood up. “You know… All these things you’re trying to do. They’re just driving me crazy.” She turned to her father, then to her mother, then to Jayce before she turned on her heel, leaving the rest of her food untouched.

They mentioned something about family, about her moodiness, her snappiness and Cait took a deep breath and bit her lip just hard enough that her body shook.

No. She was snappy. She was moody but hell, even with what got caught in her throat, she wouldn't let herself cry.

She just needed some fresh air.

Her other option was to go up to the room, close her window, but she found herself, wanting the smell of green before the rain, wanting the chill of the autumn air consuming her, in her evening gown.

It was windy that night, particularly chilly and maybe a jacket would have done her some good, but strangely it felt like an embrace, especially when she was all alone.

She sat back down on the bench that overlooked the tree lined path. Even under the dim evening light, they flickered with shades of orange and red. And as she stared, she hugged herself. The wind was a biting cold, but it was soothing more than chilling.

She was certain she made a good decision. The past few hours, hell, the past few days had left her constantly running on emotions, completely hot-headed. She found herself even mulling over the way she had treated her parents, how she had treated Jayce.

Was she really… being manipulated?

“You should get back inside.” Someone plopped a jacket over her and settled next to her. Cait didn’t even have to look up to know who it had been. “Or, if you’re that eager to stay outside, at least bring a jacket.”

Despite the stormy few days, he still found a way to sound like a friend more than an adversary.

“If you want to prattle on to my parents about your achievements, go ahead,” Cait said. “I can wait here.”

“Your parents said it’s a family dinner,” Jayce said. “It isn’t one if you’re not there.

“It doesn’t feel like one.”

“I know the past few weeks have been stressful for you and with the actions I've taken as councilor, it probably didn’t help….” He sighed. “I haven’t been a good sibling— at least, adopted sibling—- to you, probably since I became councilor.”

“Wow. Jayce Talis reflecting on his actions. It has been a while.” Cait said lightly and the comment had been genuine. The way he had spoken to her, had admittedly taken an unknown weight off her shoulders. She looked up at him and as they made eye contact, another weight replaced it.

Was there anything she had to apologize for?

“Everything I did… Everything I chose to do… It’s for either Piltover or your sake. I hope you realize that.”

“In some twisted way, I do,” Cait admitted.

“Twisted?”

“I understand, but that doesn't mean I have to agree."

“And what's stopping you from agreeing with me?" Jayce asked lightly, almost jokingly. No. He stopped talking and smiled at her expectantly, as if he were challenging her to answer the question.

“I don’t think it’s right.”

“What about it isn’t right?”

“It doesn’t feel like justice.”

“She confessed.”

“People can lie.”

Jayce shook his head. “And what else do we have?"

"An opportunity to investigate."

"Which I'm doing," Jayce said. “I started doing my own research into Vi. There was the robbery in my apartment, the explosion at the factory in Zaun… And there are still a few things that cropped up from Stillwater. New data on prisoner 605, who seemed to have entered around the same time as the explosion eight years ago."

Prisoner 605.

Vi.

And even if you do find out it was her, what does that do? Does it prove at all she killed Silco?"

"It's a motive, Caitlyn. She told me herself. She wanted to protect her sister. Even in the factory, before the murder she told me, she wanted to take down Silco. And we have a confession. What else do we need?"

"Cold hard and irrefutable evidence."

"Then tell me Caitlyn. Who else was there? Who else can we call to the witness stand? Jinx?"

"Me."

"And what will you say? Last thing you told me was you were knocked out."

“And let’s say if Vi killed Silco to save her sister, would you judge it as severely as you’re doing now?" she asked. “Do we need to punish someone… for doing something out of sheer necessity?"

"If you're going by that principle, then what's the use of the law? I'd think someone like you, who spent a good few years as an enforcer would know that." He paused before turning towards, staring her down.

Cait froze, suddenly she was very very self conscious.

"What hold does she have on you?"

"What hold?" Cait stumbled with her words.

"Why does she have you this defensive, this vindictive? It's like she has this chokehold over you."

Cait lowered her eyes to her lap and started to play with her skirt. "Chokehold huh?" she said. "What if she taught me things? What if I started to see a good heart in her? Saw how quickly she acted to protect people? Saw how she was pushed by circumstances to become ‘the monster’ you think she is? Enough for me to realize, she didn't deserve— no, she doesn't deserve any of this. She never did.

"Would you be willing to create a precedent? By letting a killer like her free? Is that the type of justice you want?"

“Justice shouldn’t be about precedents. If it is, then it isn’t my justice. The justice I want to work for is giving compassion to those who need it.” How naturally the words had left her tongue, as if her mind had been drilling those thoughts into her mind, long before she even found a way to verbalize it.

If she was manipulated to say it, so be it. She didn’t at all regret what she had just said.

Jayce paused for a moment and stared ahead, at nothing in particular.. "And I respect that."

They were silent for a few moments longer and Cait felt no need to break it. If Jayce had left at that moment, maybe she wouldn't even have begged him to stay.

Soon, she found, she didn’t expect him to leave either. Jayce was looking up at something, at the same time nothing. He subtly licked his lips, then cleared his throat.

He wanted to speak.

"I think you should know this about Vi…” he started. “The doctors said she might not make it through the week, a five percent chance at the most. Just in case, I’ve started making a transition to doing an investigation posthumously.”

It was funny how quickly the world dropped heavy on her shoulders, how the jacket that kept her warm was suddenly stifling.

“We might not be able to get a trial at least but, I’d hope to make sense of the information, particularly the ones Marcus’ tampered with. Maybe, if we’re lucky, we could even get ahold of her sister.”

“Only Vi could tell us where JInx is,” Cait retorted, as if Jayce had been referring to another “she,” as if he was giving information on another prisoner Cait had little to do with.

Jayce ignored her. "Broken ribs, bullet wounds, stab wounds, injuries to multiple organs, infections. It was a miracle she stayed conscious that long."

Jayce was fucking with her. There was no way he was telling the truth. And suddenly, from a strong and warm companion, he transformed to something completely cold and mocking

Cait turned away from him, and looked towards the fences enclosing the manor. She turned slowly around her, traced the tops with her fingers, an attempt to think of anything but what Jayce was saying. One hand, she used to pull the sweater from her shoulder. "It's so stuffy here,” she commented.

Her mind was saying something else.

You're fucking with me.

You're fucking with me.

"Believe me with what she knows, I wanna keep her alive. The council wants to keep her alive. We want to get to the bottom of this case as much as you do."

Strangely, the case was the last thing on Cait’s mind.

"Believe me, we're trying."

"She's dying, and you won't let me see her."

"She's a criminal. She's under watch. You aren't authorized."

"You're a councilor, Jayce. You could pull some strings if you wanted to!” she snapped.

Her face was heavy. Her hands were shaking. Cait lost all inhibition or motivation to do anything but to pull her legs to their chest, and conserve whatever warmth.

Time stopped. Or at least, time stopped making sense. If an eternity had passed, then Jayce was unusually patient with her, waiting that long.

Jayce breathed a sigh.

From relief, disappointment or pity, Cait couldn’t be arsed to turn her head towards him and confirm. “Didn’t expect it to be this difficult to break the news.” He continued. “I have a meeting with the archivist tomorrow. We’re putting together the data from Stillwater, and the crimes Marcus reported on to see if they all match and if you’ve talked to Vi enough, you would most likely be able to confirm our theories. And if you help there, I’ll let you meet Vi… and if anyone else asks, I’ll cover, claim you’re a valuable witness.”

Cait didn’t respond.

Yet, Jayce stayed and he waited, for fifteen minutes, or even thirty. After a while, Cait couldn’t tell. She told time how the chill became something almost numbing, until eerily her finger tips felt nothing as she pressed them on the stone bench underneath.

“I’ll wait for you in the office at eight o’clock sharp.” Jayce stood up. "I have to get ready for my trip to Stillwater tomorrow… And also, it’s best if you go inside already. I think it’s going to rain tonight.”

There was a boom just above Cait. It could have been louder, but the sounds seemed to mute themselves as they entered her ears. "Just go ahead. I don't know how long I'll be here," she managed to say. Whether it had been a croak or a murmur. At the least, it had been enough to get Jayce to leave.

Cait knew at the back of her mind, she couldn't stay out too long without risking her own health. But there was something comforting about being outside. The indoors were systematic, stifling, permanent.

At that moment, she didn’t want any more wake up calls from her reality.

The doctors said she might not make it through the week, a five percent chance at the most

Five percent? What was she even fighting for? If the 95% did happen, what would she continue fighting for?

Oh, if she could stay in a fictional dimension forever.

Outside, surrounded by nature, she could pretend she was on another planet, maybe another dimension. She dreamt of it, another timeline where she had taken Vi straight to a doctor for the stab wound, instead of relying on shimmer. She dreamt of another dimension where she hadn't reached for the gun and shot.

Outside she was toying in desperation with anything that could be a respite from her bleak reality. She wasnt counting in minutes, or in ticks of the clock. She was counting in leaves that fluttered before falling limply on the ground.

Thirty leaves. She promised first. Thirty leaves and she’d leave. A minute later, she moved to goal posts, first to fifty. Then, to a hundred.

If she kept counting, would time stop moving? Would Vi remain in that same position?

And why did she care?

"Caitlyn." The burr of her father’s voice sounded right next to her. “Jayce left already, and said he had to prepare for tomorrow.”

“Hmm..”

“Let’s get back inside,” he continued. “Your mother’s worried about you.”

“I’ll go back when I feel like it.”

“Jayce finally told you?”

“You knew?”

Tobias nodded slowly. “He broke the news when we arrived, when you were upstairs.”

“When he mentioned a posthumous investigation, I thought he was talking about Marcus. You and mom, you both knew.”

“We had your best interests.”

Cait didn’t respond.

“It’s clear with how you’ve been acting, the decisions you’ve been making recently, you do really care about her and we didn’t want to see you like this…”

And how many times had her parents thrown one variation or another of “we’re just protecting you,” protecting her from the world that eventually she would have had no choice but to face.

And those types of explanations from her parents at that point, were more likely to rile her up over others and Cait bit her tongue. The last thing she wanted to do then, was fight her father when he seemed all the more genuine. Instead she hummed in response, murmuring nothing that made sense.

“I talked to your mother about this morning, about what happened this evening and then, we ended up talking about what happened after the explosion,” he said. “If anything, it all started when we pulled you out as an enforcer. When we talked to the Sheriff. We shouldn’t have forced you to resign from your position.”

At that time, resigning had turned out to be a boon. If she hadn’t resigned, she wouldn’t have gone to the undercity. If she hadn’t resigned, she wouldn’t have learned all about life in Zaun. If she hadn’t resigned, she wouldn’t have met…

Cait shook her head.

If she did die, then nothing good came out of all those “blessings-in-disguise.” And had a burst of anger, ready to explode inside her but she tamed it, turned to her father and listened.

He had the most doleful look, his eyes pulled close together, his mouth low. At the least, he had been genuine. “I’m planning to talk to the sheriff tomorrow, get you reinstated and I talked to your mother when you walked out. She won't agree at first… but knowing what Jayce told us… we thought… if it could lighten everything up just a bit… I could convince her, you’re much happier there.”

Maybe it would work. At that moment though, It didn’t look like it would.

The world was heavy. The evening was black and gray but when her father placed his shoulders on her, wrapped a coat over her. She followed him back in and just like Jayce had told her it did rain.

Droplets slammed against the stained glass in her room, falling against the window pane. And half asleep on the bed, she could only stare.

Her senses overloaded her with sounds of unending patters, the feeble attempts of her duvet to keep her warm. At the same time, her emotions and her thoughts were muting everything around her.

An otherworldly feeling altogether

Her father mentioned something about a meeting with a sheriff tomorrow. Jayce mentioned something about an eight o’clock meeting.

If you wanna meet Vi.

There was a stark difference between her and Vi.

She had time. Vi didn’t.

But how many days did Vi have left? If her parents grounded her for doing anything rash, she had time to make up for it. If Vi was gone, she’d have all the time to put up with any backlash or any scolding.

So why wait? She thought. Jayce had said it herself, she had a couple of days at the most.

At the end of the day, if she objectively looked at her own meager rationalizations, they probably didn’t mean anything. So she thought instead of plans, throwing all motivations on the back burner.

She wanted to see Vi, dying or living. That’s all there was to it, whether it be for closure, whether it be for some goodbye message.

And she had every reason to justify such an action.

She had time. Vi didn’t.

She broke out of her muted trance, if only spurred by a burst of adrenaline, guided by utter familiarity of her surroundings and her routines.

Her movements were mechanical as she reached for the first raincoat out of the pile in her closet. She thought for a second about taking an umbrella, before deciding it would be dead weight.

She wasn’t terrified at all of being spotted through the haze and the heavy rains but anything at all that could weigh her down was something she’d rather not bring along.

She opened the window, dropped down slowly from the awning and she ran ahead, to the rhythm of the patter of rain on the cement.

The rain was a dependable ally and Cait didn’t have to be too careful as she disappeared into the night.

She wasn't Vi.

But if she were, she probably would have been scaling rooftops, closing the gaps from block to another with quick bursts of movement.

And if she were Vi, she would have been there in ten minutes, maybe even less.

Vi had always been much faster. Cait, on the other hand, could only move as fast as her legs could take her.

Still, she considered, at least trying what Vi would have done.

As she snaked through alleyways, she was looking left then right, up at the walls for anything she could hold onto.

Just in case, she could try.

One thing, Vi had reminded her multiple times before, was her own limitations as “a spoiled Piltoveran who had never known hardship.”

So, even when Vi wasn’t there, she could have been there, staring Cait right in the face, judging each sign of hesitation and each hint of Cait’s nagging fear of taking such a dangerous yet admittedly uncalculated risk.

Cait’s raincoat was drenched and heavy on her body. Any slight brush on the wall was a reminder of how slippery the walls were and consequently, how any attempt at climbing was a few feet away from a death sentence.

What would Vi have done? The intrusive thoughts were a painful knife that stabbed and twisted in her gut.

It was a familiar feeling, which for a second, as she made sense of it, brought her back to her to the satin of her sofa, the velvet of the pillows and the flannel of the duvet as she sat, twiddling her thumbs as her mother broke the news

Almost ten years ago, her mentor and inspiration, Grayson had passed and she had grieved.

Grief.

A distinct emotion, so easily characterized by the incessant oscillation between, complete desolation and utter confusion.

Cait felt the grief, like it was a monster breathing down her neck, a weight hanging over her shoulders but she could ignore it if she focused on everywhere else, on anything else.

She bolted ahead. A few times she slipped on the streets, only held together by her own quick reflexes and when she arrived in the hospital, she wondered what she had been running for in the first place.

The hospital was ninety percent brick walls, Cait confirmed as she circled the yard. She did some quick calculations, recalling the interior.

Vi had a wide window— actually, all the windows looked the same. So, under the rain, Cait counted them, touching the brick wall ten feet under each window as she counted.

Eight floors.

At the end of the hallway.

Soon, Cait found herself behind the hospital, towards the corner, mere feet from the back door. She looked up. It was a flash of lightning of all things which confirmed the black out curtains from the windows on the 8th floor—- the hospital room at the end of the hall.

Vi’s hospital room.

And it was completely out of her reach.

Why was she there? She asked herself again.

At that moment, she could only reason that it was better than sitting at home. And she could only admit, that it was her emotions making the decisions for her.

To hell with responsibilities, to hell with thought out strategies.

And if she were Vi, maybe she would have easily hefted herself up the terrace on the second floor, scaling up to the balcony on the third floor that opened to offices, and maybe could have effortlessly done it, all the way until the eighth floor. Maybe she could have balanced herself on bricks or the cement finishings jutted out of the hard and robust brick walls.

But she was Caitlyn Kiramman, born and bred in Piltover. She didn’t have the years of scaling walls in Zaun to back her up. She didn’t nurture that nonchalance Vi carried as she approached the walls, and climbed up rooftops.

She was powerless as she stared up at the window above her, counting the bricks that stuck out, a good base to catapult from if she had had the hardy grip.

If she were Vi, she probably would have been fearless, she would have had the courage and the justified recklessness to act in pure desperation.

At first, she moved a few feet away, right under a terrace, and she attempted to climb. She had made her way halfway to the third floor before her hands slipped on a metal bar, and she fell back on the hardwood. The pounding rain masked the dull thump. A quick twist of body and a quick fold of her raincoat broke what may have been a hip breaking impact.

Vi probably would have pulled herself up and climbed up the ladder.

But she wasn’t Vi and she hadn’t earned the license to be so mind numbingly reckless.

She had well placed fears. If she attempted it one more time in the rain, if her body rattled or she found herself blinded by one more lightning strike fifty feet above the ground, she could find herself injured— or worse, dead.

That fear had her stopping at the second try, banged and bruised, with a sore bum.

She asked herself again. Why was she there?

For the first time, she attempted to answer. She wanted to see Vi and Jayce’s confession only strengthened her resolve. She wanted to see Vi and in days or maybe even hours, it might just be impossible, if she didn’t act on it then.

She held on the wall again, ready to heft herself back up. The water and slime on the brick walls stung and she pulled away again. She turned her hand up, studying the palm of her hands, gray, battered and bleeding, yet she didn’t feel anything at all.

She was cold, or numb. One of those. If she climbed up again, she’d lose control for sure. She’d fall if she tried, but she had to get in soon.

She turned towards the back door, thought back to the main entrance she had walked past moments ago. It was late at night and the waiting area had been empty, save for one nurse on night duty.

Should she sneak in?

Or should she go home?

It was at least eleven at night. The rain was hard on her newly formed bruises. So she leaned on the wall, let herself fall on the floor and pulled her legs towards herself. She was drenched and the autumn chill so easily seeped through her clothes then her skin and she could do nothing to conserve warmth.

If she fell asleep then, would she freeze to death? There was a door to the hospital there, if she could just get shelter for the night.

But they’d contact her parents. She’d be in for another long lecture and the daughter in her was was already bracing her for the lecture, which she very much deserved.

She hadn’t been the best daughter lately,” she admitted as she feebly sketched a way back home while praying for the rain to stop.

She could wait out the warmth and the morning light and before she could finally decide on a plan of action, someone called out to her.

“Caitlyn? Caitlyn Kiramman?”

Half asleep, her body collapsing with exhaustion, maybe she would have considered such a dangerous prospect if a familiar shadow didn’t appear from around the corner.

“Esme,” Cait whispered.

She wondered how she looked, her hair dripping wet, her blouse and pants, see through, a raincoat over her.

But Esme didn’t ask any questions. “Let’s get you inside.” She helped Cait up and guided her through the backdoor.

It could have been an employee’s entrance. Esme gave her her own raincoat as they entered and it was large enough, with a hood over it, that it covered her civilian clothing and when she pulled the hood over her head, no one asked.

There were showers in the nurse’s station and Esme had left an extra pair of pants and a blouse in the changing room. It felt too good to be indoors again and Esme could have sensed she was still trying to get her bearings.

She didn’t ask any questions as Cait dried her hair. She didn’t ask any questions as she handed a sullen Cait a cup of tea.

But when they sat down, settling in one empty corner of the station, she spoke. “I heard something fall on the terrace and went to check it out… If it had been anyone else who found you…” She shook her head in wonder. “I know you're here for Vi. When Councilor Talis took over, I didn’t know how to reach you….. She had a high fever when you left… Hours later, her fever broke and she asked about you. I told her you went out. She was feeling better for a few hours, at least a day. Then suddenly, she got really sick again…” She traced lines on her own skin, and stared up at Cait. “Like this… she had glowing purple lines on her body, she was hallucinating…”

“Shimmer,” Cait said, a weak whisper out of her lips as she took a sip of hot tea.

Esme nodded. “I suspected the same thing.” She looked towards the window, deep in thought. “When her body started shutting down, they were suspecting the symptoms of a slow acting poison, and said they couldn't do anything unless they knew the nature of it.” Esme lowered her eyes to the table. “The nurses were scrambling to keep her alive. Councilor Talis stepped up and was suddenly on top of things, told us he’d look for a way to keep her alive, and said he was expecting an assassination attempt. That’s why they keep her under watch now.” ”

“If you knew… you couldn’t tell them it was Shimmer?”

“I did.” Esme sighed. “But Shimmer is an under researched and incredibly volatile drug, the doctors fought among themselves on the best plan of action, ended up in some impasse.”

“Then why are you so sure?”

“Because I checked, Caitlyn. Before they moved her from her room, completely isolated her, I checked everything from the colors of her pupils, the tips of her fingers, her body, all discolored with shimmer. They could be preying on her wounds, eating her alive for all we know."

“Then what do we do?” Cait pleaded.

“Caitlyn, do you know what Shimmer does?”

“When I moved here to Piltover, Shimmer was only starting to make the rounds in Zaun. Although I never laid an eye on the drug myself, I was very familiar with the story: an addictive glowing purple substance distributed among the populace. Sounded very familiar to something they used back home to weaken whole villages and cities before invasions.”

“You’re from Noxus.” The guess came all too naturally. Cait had many years under the best tutelage to be familiar with the expansionist empire.

Esme nodded. “ And I joined the initial war campaigns to Ionia, ” she said. There’s a scientist behind it, I’m sure. He created chemtech weapons that razed Ionian villages with fire. I suspect he was also responsible for distributing a glowing purple liquid, marketed as medicine, a very addictive medicine…” she trailed off, suddenly deep in thought.

“So if you were from Noxus, if you’re familiar with this— with what they were using during the war—- you should know how to save Vi.”

“Shimmer,” she answered matter-of-factly. “When dealing with soldiers on the verge of death, Shimmer is a coin flip. It either saves a life or causes a slow and painful death. The scientist behind it, could have changed the make-up of Shimmer now for all I know— but back then, the only way to treat the soldiers was to buy them time, pump them with Shimmer until supplies dry out or they succumb to the systemic damage Shimmer causes inside them..”

“But it doesn’t cure them,” Cait continued. She held on to this lifeline that Esme would add something, or at least tell her she was wrong and she couldn’t look Esme’s way as she waited.

Esme averted her gaze.

There was a tense silence and Cait sat silent and unmoving as if that could have magically come up with answer, even when in the back of her mind, Esme didn’t have anything else to add.

“Thank you,” Cait said. “Thank you for everything.”

“I’m sorry Lady Kiramman,” she said, shaking her head. “She must have been important to you.”

Cait winced at Esme’s word choice. She isn’t dead yet. “She is important to me. “ She turned to the clock, it was midnight.. Cait shook her head. She was grieving a very probable outcome but she was still far from accepting.

“I don’t know what I can offer you tonight. Unfortunately, I can't offer much of a chance to visit Vi but I did talk to someone who was working with Councilor Talis. He’s on top of this case, much more than I am, and if he’s Vi’s fighting chance—.”

“Viktor?”

Esme cocked her head to her side. “I never caught his name…”

“Short, frail, shaggy hair, and walks with a limp…” Cait rattled off descriptions in a hurry as her mind wandered elsewhere, to the library in the station, to Viktor’s comments. “This is what he was working on,” she said with a hush.

It was like the ghost, that second wind of a while ago, that had her braving the rain, running all the way to the hospital, left her. And it felt like it had been all for naught.

She leaned back on the chair and dropped her shoulders and Esme gripped her by the arm. “You should rest.”

And she opted to stay at Ekko’s for the night.

The walk there was silent for most of the way and somehow, Cait felt a need to apologize.

“I’m sorry as well. Whatever I did tonight was an impulse decision. I don’t know what I was thinking, expecting I’d be able to climb up and open the window.”

“They’re locked from the inside but… there is an emergency latch from the outside, for emergencies… but you’ll have to break it to open it.” A look of understanding in Esme’s face quickly morphed to something expectant, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

“How do you open it?”

“If you climb the walls, and smash it. A strong impact is usually enough…” she said. “Or at least that’s what I heard… but it definitely would catch a lot of attention.”

Her shoulders rose again at the prospect of it but just imagining the process of climbing up, smashing with a hammer had her destroying the thought within seconds of thinking it up. Where could she even get a hammer?

“Are you encouraging me?” she asked.

Esme shook her head. “Nope, just thought of lightening the mood… ”

Nothing could change reality but their moods became a little more tolerable as they walked, Cait spoke up. “If you were helping the Ionian troops, that means you defected from Noxus.”

Esme nodded her head wryly. “And you probably guessed already that I can’t really go back after deserting the Noxian troops.”

“How is it there? My father has distant relatives from Ionia,,” Cait said. “So, I’d love to visit one day, get to know my heritage, maybe after they recover from the war…”

“It’s a beautiful place.” Then, Esme continued with whispers on some story of sneaking out of the Noxian backlines, moving on to small villages in Ionia: Placidiums, Navorian temples but at a certain point, Cait dozed off.

Her body was heavy with exhaustion, her head was pounding and her eyes drooping. The rain outside was only getting stronger. If anything, even if she attempted to go home,, she was stranded there for the night. Esme helped her put her wet clothes in a plastic bag, held them out to dry and that night, Cait found herself in Ekko’s room again.

He was awake enough to greet her. Bored maybe, even restless and when he asked her what brought her there so late at night, she could only answer in one sentence. “I’m meeting Jayce tomorrow.”

“What did Jayce offer you?”

“He offered to let me see Vi, only asked for help with a meeting with an archivist.”

“And you don’t think at all it would affect the investigation at all?”

“Jayce told me Vi is dying, probably only has a couple days left”

Ekko didn’t respond.

Cait leaned back on the wall of Ekko’s room, a blanket over her, leaning her head back on the pillow Esme had given her. She found herself quoting Esme as she spoke.

“So Heimerdinger was right,” Ekko whispered.

“But Jayce told me, he’s trying to keep her alive,” Cait said. “And I thought, if I just cooperate for now… maybe…”

“Maybe…”

“I just think there’s no point in solving this case if there’s no Vi to save.”

“And giving out information on VI, just to be able to see her will save her… how?”

Half-asleep, she stared up at the ceiling. She thought back to Esme then to Viktor and she bit her lip in thought. She didn’t have a clear answer either. “Just trust me,” Cait said. “All I wanna do is save Vi. I’d give my whole life if I had to.”

She could have spoken for longer than that, making promises she wasn’t completely sure of herself, but Ekko didn’t press further, and one thing she learned about him over time, was Ekko wouldn’t press for information, he wouldn’t argue, if he had nothing else to contribute himself.

They were in a pathetic position, a dead end of all things, and Cait found, it was relying on other people, trusting them, something Ekko had struggled with, which could get them through the next steps.

And she found, mulling over them, had been enough to lull her to a deep sleep.

Jayce kept his promise.

The meeting lasted only thirty minutes to an hour or so. The archivist had been a short stout man, with owl eyes and a beak nose and he had come to the room with folders spread out on the desk.

He asked some questions in some rapid fire, yet rutinary manner, moving on after every answer. By the time they finished, it was a half past eight and Jayce was already up from his seat, wearing his autumn jacket in earnest. By the door, they were discussing plans to meet and review the content in the coming while listing the files that had still been left in Stillwater, all files Marcus had bribed administrators to keep from the Piltover archives.

There wasn’t any opening to talk at all.

When Cait walked up the room, soon after the meeting, the guards allowed her in without a fuss, as if Jayce had informed them in advance. As if Jayce was certain she would have visited that morning, no questions asked.

The hospital room was dim, the curtains were closed. Cait threw her paper bag towards the side of the room, walked towards the window and slid the curtains open, just half way at first, enough to let in the morning light that only looked brighter after a night full of rain. She looked back towards Vi’s prone figure on the bed and a wave of relief washed over her.

She missed Vi.

“Jayce finally allowed me to see you,” she said.

She pulled the chair and placed it right next to her bed. “They said you only had days left.” She placed one hand over Vi’s cheeks.

Her face was cold to touch. The ‘Vi’ tattoo on her cheek was almost black over her pallor

Relief was quickly replaced by despondence but Cait wasn’t going to wallow in it. “There’s no point in fighting a legal battle if there’s no one to save. You’ll be doing a lot for all of us if you pull through. Ekko’s worried about you. The other firelights are too… I am, too. And I’ve told you before… you can’t help your sister at all if you die now…”

The hospital was located in one of the richer areas in PIltover and it was wider than most. Still, her voice seemed to echo across the whole room, a chilling, and mocking reminder that no one was likely to respond to her.

She sighed, leaned back on the chair and opened her notebook, filling details in between her bare bones of a chart she had mindlessly scrawled out as she listened.

“Apparently two enforcers were involved in a case. A group of kids robbed an apartment, downtown. Jayce’s house to be exact. When they dropped the hex crystals, they caused an explosion.”

Just a few weeks later, there was another explosion, a hextech one, in a factory and it coincided with the appearance of a new prisoner in Stillwater. Prisoner 516, with no records of crimes… until now. Marcus paid for documentation of your crimes under the wraps. That is… until his death. With Marcus’ death and with Vi escaping, there was no point in keeping the records. That’s why Jayce is going to Stillwater. He’s taking the rest of the records back to Piltover. It could tell us a lot about your history, about your health.”

Silence.

“I still don't think you killed Silco. I’ll fight tooth and nail for it but even if all the evidence is against you, I’ll look stupid but I’ll still fight, at least for the lightest sentence out there.

She put one hand over Vi’s, tracing the IV that burrowed into her wrist, a bandage over it. Her hands were clammy to touch and when Cait pressed on it, she could only imagine that someone had squeezed back.

She traced the tattoo on Vi’s face and stared blankly at her sleeping face. She bent over, pressing her forehead over Vi’s. The whooshing under the oxygen mask was strangely comforting, the rise and fall of her chest had been something else to dote over.

And somewhere along the way, the soft rhythm had lulled her to a half daydream. She hadn’t slept at all that night, sprawled on the floors of Ekko’s hospital room.

She could have been asleep for minutes, hours, or maybe even half a day. The light outside the window was strangely brighter but what completely shook her and pulled her back to consciousness was the slam of the door and the click of the door behind her.

The person was too close, right next to her. The shape bent over, opening one eye, and then the other before whistling in worry.

He started to mutter, in a very familiar drawl, a familiar accent.

“Is this the task Jayce gave you?” Cait asked, still half-asleep. “To keep Vi alive?” She painstakingly pushed herself up.

“Oh, you’re awake,” he said. He didn’t look at all nervous to see her. “This is what I’ve been busy with, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Any leads?”

“There’s progress, but not as fast as I’d like it to be,” he said. “I’ve talked to a few people in the undercity already. Took a trip there myself in fact and since you’re here with me, it’s probably worth asking you a few questions. He turned to Cait. “Vi had Shimmer in the undercity, didn’t she?”

Her stomach twisted and if denying meant Viktor couldn't’ save her, she wouldn’t risk it. “When I was in the undercity, she got hurt, I couldn’t find a doctor, but I found a shop and they gave me shimmer, said it could save her,” Cait said.

“What happened?”

“Vi was stabbed.”

“Stabbed in the stomach?”

“Around here.” Cait held a hand over her stomach.

“That explains the fever and the sudden internal bleeding then. A stab in a stomach, especially when it nicks organs,is a death sentence.”

“So, the shimmer never actually healed her.”

Victor shook his head. “It isn’t supposed to. Shimmer was never designed to be a miracle medicine. It is a volatile bioweapon designed to make the populace dependent, turn people into uncontrollable monsters, take down empires slowly and if it is taken as a medicine, it can be a miracle but it can also become like a band aid for a wound it never heals, you have to take it enough times, or the body crumbles on itself. I suspect her body never had time to recover…”

“And you seem to know a lot about this.”

“I was born and bred in Zaun, researching ways to prolong human life. I’d learn a thing or two about the latest chem tech development,” he said.

“Then, what’s your plan?”

He held a vial in front of her. “This is one of the newer variants, a gift from an old friend of mine.”

“And you think pumping her up with more Shimmer will save her.”

“It’s a long shot but I’m sure you’d rather take a risk than let her die a slow and certain death

A few seconds later, he was moving towards the bed, vial on hand, and a syringe in the other.

“Shimmer was developed by an old friend of mine…” he spoke as he held Vi’s limp hand towards him.

An old friend of Viktor’s?

Cait found herself slowly pulling away, suddenly a little more terrified of Jayce’s old friend.

The purple liquid glowed ominously as he inserted the syringe into the vial, then it bubbled and Cait bit back a gulp.

“Although the properties of the first samples of shimmer were to heal. My friend further developed it as a potential bioweapon, not as a curative drug. As he developed the drug, he focused on its addictive properties much more than its lifesaving ones…which leaves us with understudied cases like this.”

“Which means…”

“If my hypothesis is correct, Vi should have died a long time ago and Shimmer was the only thing keeping her alive.” He raised a syringe in the air. “And this is what will buy time for us.”

Viktor stood in place and gave her a long look. He could have been asking her permission but Cait was speechless, held together by her own inquisitiveness and her own blatant awareness of what the hell was happening.

Buying someone time didn’t at all sound like anything encouraging.

Buying someone time meant they were still dying. Buying Vi time meant she could still drop dead at any moment. But, when Cait was deciding between dead in a year and dead tomorrow, it was an easy choice.

She didn’t say anything as Viktor inserted the needle in.

“I trust you won’t say anything to Jayce or to anyone about this, especially if you want to save her,” Viktor said. “I wouldn’t know how many more times we’ll have to have her wake up, but I’ve had to jump through a few hoops to get these, not all of them, Jayce would agree with.”

“If it’s to save Vi, it’s our secret.” Cait said.

“I’ll check up on her a bit later. The only thing we can do for now, is wait.”

Cait watched him balance himself on his cane and give her one nod, before he turned away. She wanted to ask him how he knew so much about Shimmer, how he seemed so confident with such a malevolent drug, but in passing, Jayce had said something about VIktor being sick, and about how he hadn’t had much time left.

She remembered Jayce telling her about how sickly Viktor had been, how he had grown up exposed to the toxins in the undercity. Then, as she recalled his story, she suddenly became a bit more observant of how he carried his shoulders much higher, how he seemed to walk faster, albeit, still with a limp.

“Did you use Shimmer too?”

If he were still in the room, maybe she would have asked it much more loudly than a mere hush, but there were only too many things he would probably be comfortable answering. When her senses and her mind were flooded with hope, with anticipation and ultimately, with gratefulness, she thought that a question, not worth pressing.

She’d find another time to ask.

For now… She closed her eyes, turned back to Vi, then back down at the wound on her arm, which was spotted pink. She sat back down on the chair, brushed Vi’s bangs out of her eyes.

“For now, we better wait then,” she whispered