Chapter Text
Vi knows how to tell the difference between danger and a threat.
Danger speaks the same language she does, one she's been well acquainted with since the day she was born, knows the like the back, front, and sides of her hand. It's charmed its way into her life and is unwilling to leave no matter how much she insists, like a friend. Or maybe a tumor. And Vi, Vi learned how to live alongside it a long time ago.
A threat, however, feels more like a fever. Itchy, sticky, more determined to stay the more you fight back. It quells you from the inside, freezes you in place, before gutting you like a fucking fish, quick and easy before you know what's been cutting you open.
A threat may be danger, but danger isn't always a threat. At least, not to her, it isn't. The difference should be clear.
However, looking at Sheriff Grayson walking in The Last Drop, Vi doesn't know what to label her grim eyes and stony expression.
"Grayson's here." Powder sniffs alongside Vi, watching the woman and a mustached man walking through the doors. She hasn't seen the other guy before, with his chest puffed out, beady eyes taking in the scenery with caution. "And some new guy."
Vi grunts, watching Vander approach them out of the corner of her eyes.
Grayson's presence doesn't necessarily bother Vi anymore, hasn't for a while, especially since it seems that it's thanks to her and Vanders' efforts that the Undercity and Piltover have the closest thing to a truce. She may not like it, but she does like the safety of everyone she loves, so it's something.
However, her presence also means something's wrong. Small or big, when Grayson's here, chances are, danger is too.
Which is exactly why Vi strains her ears to listen to their brief conversation, and what she hears sends her stomach curling.
"The longer we wait, the more the opportunity for danger arises, Vander."
Danger? What kind of danger? The kind that puts all the people she loves at risk, or the kind of danger that the people of the Undercity pray for every night? Danger for them? Or for Piltover?
"Danger?" Powder seems to mirror Vi's alarm, eyes wide and alert all of a sudden at the threat.
"It's probably nothing," Vi swallows down the panic that arises at Vander's solemn response she hears, whispered and meant to be kept a secret from her. From them.
"Whatever danger comes, I'm prepared to go down with it, Grayson. I'm not the priority."
Vi feels her throat closing up, choking her silently. Who is? If something, anything, is more important than Vander’s life and his family, Vi has to know what it is.
She curses under her breath as the three walk further away, stepping outside onto the street for further discussion, but Powder's already slipped out of her seat to follow them. Vi grabs her elbow, effectively stopping her with a yelp.
"No. Don't follow them, they'll know you're there."
"What? How?" Powder shoots back at Vi's raised eyebrow. "How would they know?"
"Because, Pow, you've got a habit of making noise everywhere you go. Then they'll stop talking, Vander will yell at us, and we'll never know."
Powder pouts, tugging her arm out of Vi's hold, before slumping back into her seat with a groan. Vi takes it as a win, and ruffles her sister's hair with a grin.
"It's not all bad. Vander will either deal with it or tell us later. For now, you get to spend time with me." Powder snorts.
"Right, that's the bad part." Vi smacks her upside the head, much to Powder's surprise, "Hey!"
"Yeah, yeah. You'll thank me later when it turns out to be nothing. Now move, you're smudging the counter."
"You don't think it's anything bad, do you?" Powder turns around to face her sister, failing to mask her nerves.
"Powder." Vi's heart breaks a little at the sight, "Nothing is going put us in danger, we'll be okay. Promise. Just let me handle it."
When her little sister disappears into the depths of their basement, greeted by Mylo's shout of surprise and followed by faint laughter, Vi knows she's clear to go. She tosses the rag she's been wiping the counter with (she's been scrubbing the same spot for the past five minutes anyways) somewhere behind her, and makes her way outside. The door creaks as it's nudged open, but she ignores it in favor of finding a way to get closer to hushed voices.
Vi hears locations. She hears places she knows: Babette's, Benzo's, Jericho's, that one place that sells the overpriced paints Powder likes so much. She hears times, just before the sun sets, right after the sun sets, and a bunch of numbers in-between. Their conversation, the heavy one between Vander and Grayson, is suffocating even without the sound of their surely strained voices.
And Vi is good at mathematics, sure, but no matter how many times she's rewriting this equation, nothing is adding up. Even if it's not Grayson, some enforcer always seems to be on Vander's back nowadays, one or two always stationed in front of their home. People are being questioned, shoved and pushed at, for answers they don't know how to give. There's no official search, no warrants, no nothing.
When Vander practically pushes the two away, bidding them a bittersweet goodbye, she makes her move. His shoulder's stiffen the closer she gets, aware of her presence before she's even there. He stills. She doesn't.
"What was that?"
Vander sighs, "What was what?"
"That. What was that, Vander, what was that conversation between you, Grayson, and the new guy? What was that- that fucking whispering?" Vi laughs without any humor in her tone, "What are you planning? Because, you know, you can insist it's not important all you want, but you and I know."
Vander looks worn. His shoulders, always so strong and solid for Vi to lean against on her worse and worst days, look about ready to collapse. He runs a hand down his face without answering Vi. She doesn't mind, she's learned how to wait.
"Violet." Her stomach tightens at her name. "Can't seem to keep a thing from you, can I?"
"Guess you can't." When Vander's response doesn't come, Vi's resolve loosens the tiniest bit. "Is it bad?"
"I won't lie to you, it's worse than we thought. Topsiders, they're lookin' for something." But Vi knows what he really means to say.
"Someone?"
He smiles thinly. "Smart kid. But we don't give one of our own, even if it means enforcers flooding the streets. Problem is, they really, really want this person in custody."
"So- so what? We all have to suffer because some asshole won't own up? Even if topsiders know they won't? Knows we won't?"
"Vi."
"No! It doesn't make any fucking sense. We've all done shit, dumb and smart shit, so why do they care now? What're they playing at now?"
"I'll tell you, doesn't matter much when they don't see them as one of our own."
"What?" Vi's brain pauses, thoughts racing by at his words, "What does that mean?"
"Means Piltover sees 'em as Piltover's."
"What? Who even-" Something clicks for her, something ugly and disfigured and firm that forces her throat to close in on itself. "No."
"Violet-"
"You're not considering it."
"I'm not." His words are firm, but still less of a reassurance and more of a warning. "I haven't. Not even once."
Panic doesn't describe what Vi is feeling, though she does feel something like it creeping into the edges of her mind, filling the corners of her thoughts with a static buzz. Fuck, she can't think straight. Piltover wants Caitlyn back, and it looks like they won't stop until they have her. Vi had known Cait was important, even for Piltover, but now all she can do is wonder who could possibly be so determined for her return.
"Does she know?"
"No. Nobody knows, 'cept Grayson, Marcus, plus now you 'nd I." Vander huffs. Vi doesn't know what to think.
"How the fuck are they supposed to find Cait if nobody know they're looking for her?" A small laugh escapes the both of them at her words, blunt and incredulous and straightforward as they are.
"Well, Grayson's been down here all day. I'm sure they've been running a bit low on brainpower."
"Understatement." Vi bites at her bottom lip, "Why do they want her?"
"Nobody's said."
She huffs, "Well, fine, but why? What's so important about her?"
"That's a tad rude, don't you think?"
Vi feels herself flush at his teasing, "Fuck you, not like that. Didn't they give her up? Send her down here?"
Silence stretches for a few seconds as Vander shakes his head solemnly.
Nobody had ever given the real story on why Caitlyn had shown up one day and never left. Despite the bits and pieces of her story that were left behind, none of it was enough to create a full piece. And as it turns out, Cait barely remembers enough to tell Vi anything helpful, or at least, anything she wanted to speak of.
"When Caitlyn first arrived, Vi, she wasn't supposed to stay. Was only supposed to be a temporary thing, courtesy of some conflict with her family, but it went for a lot longer than we expected."
"By years?"
"By years." A pang echoes off of Vi's chest. "Grayson thought it best that she stay, especially since she'd been settling in alright."
"So what're you gonna do? We're not giving up Cait, and it looks like topsiders don't want to give up on finding her."
"Nothing."
"What?" Vander's words are so final that Vi feels as if she's been knocked back by their force, "What do you mean nothing? Like, at all?"
A glint of something flashes in his eyes. "Not a thing. Why do anything if we don't know where Caitlyn is?"
Oh. Vi heaves a breathy laugh, watching as Vander move his arm to wrap around her shoulder, gently urging her to go back inside. "Right. But-"
"Piltover knows nothing. Now, I don't doubt Cait will catch on sooner or later. Let's just hope it's later, for her sake."
"Where do you come in? 'Cause you took her in at first?"
"S'pose so."
There's something Vander's not telling Vi. It frustrates her, knowing that there's something she could be doing to help him, help all of them, but he just won't open his mouth and say it. It's her responsibility too, why can't he see that?
"Why? What's your deal?" He sighs, putting a hand on her shoulder.
"It's getting late, Vi. Just go inside, tell the others to sleep. I know Mylo, that damn kid, hasn't been sleeping the past few nights. Not well, anyways."
"You didn't answer me."
"I don't have any answer you want."
"And how do you know that?" Vi's hands clench into fists, not ones of anger, more of persistence. "Vander, I heard what you said back there. And I can't- I'm not just gonna let you put yourself in danger! What about Powder? Or Mylo, or Claggor? They need you here." She swallows, barely visible. And what about me? What will I do here if you're not?
"Well then," Vander's reassuring smile appears, "It's a good thing I've got someone to take my place, eh?"
Vi doesn't feel any better at his words. Her stomach lurches, sick and empty all at once. Fuck.
Vander leaves, heading back inside the Last Drop to check on the others while Vi can feel her back moving, moving, and then hitting solid brick with a thump. She knows more than she wishes she had to. First, she thinks about her sister.
Powder can't know about any of it, even though she'll catch on quick if there's the chance. Her sister was the smartest person she'd ever known, and she loved her family as fiercely as Vi did, taking on that same habit of attracting danger. She got it from her sister.
However, there's no doubt that enforcers will begin coming down here more and more. That means that her family has to lay low, that's what it always means, and now that includes Caitlyn. Bitterness twists her thoughts into two, makes her want to lay down and cry. Nothing will ever be enough for them. Vi thinks of asking Caitlyn about anything Piltover-related, but quickly crosses the idea out. Her friend had always been particularly spacy about it, and there didn't ever seem to be a good time to ask.
Besides, Vi was sure Caitlyn didn't want anything to do with Piltover anymore.
---
Caitlyn doesn't remember what it means to be from Piltover. Or maybe she does, the idea so hammered into the grooves of her brain, its past the point of being forgotten and now it just seems to be an unconscious part of her. Maybe that's why she recognized the bullet from the junkyard, still shiny and pristine despite the dirt rubbed onto it.
The tiny keepsake is a massive pain in her ass, the smallest puzzle piece in the biggest riddle that is her life.
The image of large hallways and echoing footsteps push against her brain, urging her to just remember, but she can't. Or maybe she won't. Caitlyn's not quite sure at this point.
The bullet can't be more than half an inch in width and it's pure gold, so it clearly isn't a bullet from the Undercity. It screams Piltover in that gleaming, glowing way that seems to dust every surface of the city.
There's nothing about the bullet she hasn't already spotted. The symbol printed in the middle of it, something that looks like two 'K's back to back, makes her head hurt every time she stares at it for too long.
"What're you even doing?" Ekko's voice comes from out of nowhere, "Are you looking at that thing again? Is it my turn?"
In his small hands are the pieces of what looks to be a kitchen gadget, but his interest quickly switches to Caitlyn after he's entered her room.
"And what business would you have with this thing? I'm afraid I'm quite occupied with this one, Ekko. We'll find you another one." Caitlyn waves him off, and even though she feels a bit guilty about being dismissive, she can't deny that his interruption seemed to slow her investigation.
"You've been looking at it all day." He groans, slumping down to the floor against Caitlyn's makeshift bed. A screw clatters onto the wood of the floor. The light next to him is flickering weakly, but she still persists in turning the object in her palm over again. And again. And again. "There's nothing new to it!"
"If you wanted my attention so badly, you could've said so." Caitlyn hums, finally pushing the bullet under the loose floorboard besides her bed, "Since Benzo's wasn't quite enough for you."
"That barely counts! He just wanted to make sure I didn't fuck up some toy, that's it." Ekko counters, scrunching his nose at the memory of Benzo's watchful eyes on him.
"Maybe he wouldn't have to if-"
"It's only happened once! I swear! You know it!" Caitlyn shakes her head fondly.
"I suppose your mistake has been forgiven, though I doubt its been forgotten. At least you two got some bonding out of the experience."
"Yeah? Like you've been bonding with that bullet?" He rolls his eyes, nodding towards the crooked plank near Cait's hand on the floor. Her smile falters.
"I suppose you could describe it as 'bonding'." Her voice is steady, but Ekko's learned to pick up on the underlying caution in her words, "Though I suppose I'm just curious as to what something so sophisticated from Piltover is doing down here."
"Maybe some enforcer dropped it while they were down here." He shrugs, picking at a loose thread on Caitlyn's thin blanket. She shakes her head in response.
"No, there's a symbol on it." Dark brown eyes raise in interest, "Two 'K's, I think? It is quite familiar, yet I can't seem to place it."
"Huh. Probably belonged to a house then."
"I've gathered that as the most likely possibility, but something is telling me that there's more."
"Do you have, like, Piltover-detective powers or something? You able to sniff out topsiders?" Ekko laughs at his own joke, narrowly dodging the swat of Caitlyn's hand.
"No, Ekko, I do not happen to have the abilities of a wolf." Her eyes roll.
Ekko had always been a curious kid, she knew it even when they had just first met. He was energetic, excitable, eager to help in any situation in any way he could: it didn't help that he was exceptionally talented in his area of expertise. It's no surprise that he's been badgering about the object of her fascination, but it doesn't help that Caitlyn can't exactly confess that this object was sending her spiraling about her past life, one that she couldn't actually provide any details about.
She hears the chime of a bell and footsteps nearing her room, and Ekko's head snaps up at the noise, before the door swings open to reveal Benzo's standing figure. He doesn't seem to have been eavesdropping, but Caitlyn's learned that the man's learned to hear without using his ears.
"What's going on here, then? You two conspiring against me?" He chuckles, and Cait can't help but giggle a bit at his teasing.
"Yes, and I'm afraid we'll have to act soon now that he's found out our plan, Ekko." Ekko gasps, whisper-shouting, "Does that mean that I get his glasses when it's time?"
"You scoundrel, nobody is getting my glasses!" At the declaration, the tension that had pierced the room before falls into nothing, easing Caitlyn into a routine she's much more familiar with. Something, softer, rounded, real and not practiced the way she remembers her house had been. Funnily enough, she can't really remember what from Piltover isn't real, so why should she know what is?
Caitlyn huffs. It's strange, not being able to trust yourself when you're the only person with access to that information.
No, she's not the only person. She knows there's others besides the foggy image of her parents her mind can barely conjure. A man, the sound of exasperated laughter, the quiet sound of pencil on paper. Caitlyn can remember that her lack of friends never meant the complete absence of them, and there must have been another person that knew who she had been.
A name doesn't come to mind, but the sight of a location does. Caitlyn gasps, startling Benzo from where he's listening to Ekko's daily adventures. She apologizes, rushing out of her room and motioning them to follow. Ekko does, stumbling over himself a bit too excitedly before popping back to where Caitlyn is trailing through some of the shelves in the back of the room.
"What's that? Do you have a plan?"
"Of sorts," She answers, honest as she can be. "It's less of a plan and more of an outline."
"Uh, okay?"
"It's regarding Piltover. I've remembered something- no, someone who may be able to help me out."
--
"Caitlyn! That's cheating!" Powder squeals at the hand covering her eyes, tongue poking out of her mouth with the effort of aiming for the moving figures while swatting at Caitlyn. "You can't do that! Vi! Help me!"
"And how would I do that, Pow?" Vi asks, wearily eyeing the bullet that pierces right through the target's thick surface, leaving smoke where it was seconds ago.
Caitlyn's first time in the arcade had initially been protested (mostly by Mylo), but her pleading had worn them out in the end. With Grayson's visits ceasing more and more, and Caitlyn being left to her own devices with the group, bonding was bound to happen one way or another. Powder and Ekko's excitement was contagious, and Vi found herself anticipating something for the first time in what felt like years.
"Powder! You can't ask for outside assistance, that's cheating!" Caitlyn protests.
"We gotta get you guys a rulebook or something," Ekko chimes in with a huff, letting out a cheer as both Caitlyn and Powder hit the same target at the same time.
The clock buzzes and the lights of their makeshift arcade dim as the game draws to a close. Mylo clicks his tongue as he spots the matching numbers next to Cait and Powder's names, shaking his head in mock dissatisfaction before Claggor elbows him. A successful mission the day before had left all six of them with unused, unburned energy, so they were trying to tire themselves out at the arcade. It seemed to have been working, judging by the sweat clinging to everyone's skin and hair.
"Okay, who's next?" Caitlyn twirls the gun before firing one more perfect shot in a target's direction, sending a spark of admiration through Vi, "Step right up!"
Ekko quickly raises his hands, allowing Powder to pull him up and situate him. Caitlyn moves to sit besides Vi, pushing Mylo's feet away from their propped up spot on the seat with a grimace of disgust.
"Your reflex is improving," Vi remarks with a loose grin.
"You really think so?" Caitlyn tucks a loose piece of hair back into her ponytail, beaming at the attention, heart pounding a little faster. The game must have been more exhilarating than she thought. In all honesty, she hadn't really noticed how closely Vi was watching, especially because this might have been one of the kindest things she'd ever said to the other. Caitlyn counted it as a win.
Mylo tilts his head, "How'd you even learn to shoot? Don't remember any of us teaching you to aim like that."
"Well, you're right, it definitely wasn't you." Claggor replies, ignoring Mylo's protests, "Since she clearly knows how to work a gun. Maybe Powder. Cait, did Powder teach you?"
"Nah, couldn't be Powder. She couldn't teach a bird how to fly." Vi leans forward to flick the boy across the forehead, glaring in warning. He puts his hands up in mock surrender.
"No, it wasn't Powder. It was in Piltover, actually. I can't quite remember who."
The mention of Piltover leaves Vi's eyes avoiding Caitlyn's, and the sound of Ekko's grunts of frustration each time he misses the target much louder.
"What'd you need to know how to shoot for in topside?" Mylo's nose scrunches up in thought, clearly pondering the possibilities, "You running from something?"
"Not that I can remember." Caitlyn responds with a shrug.
"On the hunt?"
"Possibly."
"For what exactly?" Vi scoffs. The idea of Caitlyn, nearly 13 years old now, chasing after anything seemed ridiculous, but not necessarily impossible.
"Rabbits, mostly. Squirrels, if we could find any. I distinctly remember Grayson catching something with wings once." Caitlyn's response is cool and measured, far too calm for the surprised look on Claggor and Vi's face. "I don't ever remember missing my shots."
"Hm." Vi hums in response.
"What? Is something the matter?" Caitlyn frowns, electing to ignore the way Mylo repeats her sentence in an exaggerated accent.
"Nah, not really," Vi shakes her head, "Just that you don't really remember much from Piltover, do you?"
Caitlyn blinks. She wants to retort, prove Vi wrong, but she can't really. Vi doesn't even seem to be hostile, just observant, which makes Caitlyn even more frustrated at the girl's answer.
"No, I suppose I don't." Caitlyn shrugs, feigning indifference, but still swallowing the feeling that rises up in her throat.
She still remembered her mother and father, of course she did, but gone were the memories and familiarity of the rest of her home. Any lingering voices, the smell of her home, thoughts of her childhood were erased. Her new life was in the Undercity, and now she had to learn what that meant.
"Shit, thought she might have some intel for us." Mylo groans, lightening the tension in the room with Vi's laugh. Caitlyn is grateful, for once.
"I'm sure it's in there somewhere." Powder, who'd been eavesdropping on their conversation, slings an arm across her shoulders. "We gotta help her find it! Right, Vi?"
"Right." Her response is stilted, stiff, in a way Caitlyn has yet to learn to read. Vi is uncomfortable, and Caitlyn is sure the conversation isn't helping.
The last person to accept Caitlyn into their little group was Vi, ironic considering that it was Powder who had been the first. But even then, Vi hadn't been able to look past the Piltover part of Caitlyn, and now she couldn't blame her even the slightest bit.
Living here, truly seeing what the Undercity was like, Caitlyn felt hopeless. Her life of luxury, what she had known for so long, seemed so pointless against the sick and dying citizens of the Undercity, raised to know nothing but how to survive. She can't imagine half of what her friends had been through, much less understand, and it was no surprise their resentment lingered.
Cait hoped for change. She hoped for peace, and for justice, and for a bridge. Now, all of it seemed nothing but a dream and what was left of her naivety.