Chapter Text
Viktor had made it. He’d pulled himself through the sludge of the Undercity, through the smog and the rampant disease, and he’d come out mostly unscathed. Except, of course, for the bacteria ravishing his body like some kind of demented lover. His lungs were nourished with his own blood, and his leg jilted like a glitch. Even in Piltover, the city of progress, the Undercity bogged him down with its gifts, with the promise of an agonizing death.
And he’d tried so hard to help people. He had a vision, with Jayce; to help people with Hextech. He’d wanted peace and prosperity for the Undercity. He’d wanted his home to thrive, to finally reach out and see the sun that Piltover had been basking in for so long. But perhaps the sun had shone on him too long, made him too greedy with the possibilities of more. He’d lost sight of their dream. He’d seen the sun, absolutely, and wanted it for himself.
He could understand, now, the condescension of the citizens of Piltover; they were in the progression of the city, and they could spare the Undercity if it meant living in their bliss. He’d turned the Hexcore into his saving grace, and now Sky was dead. In his desperation for more time, he’d sacrificed his dream.
The consequences were limitless, much like their vision had been. Jayce would have to destroy the Hexcore, and Viktor would die, and their dream would crash and burn and Viktor’s mark on history would be a dash of ink, maybe less.
Viktor was curled up in his bed, the sheets hanging off the side of the bed. Sleep did not come, not at this hour, or any of the hours that stretched before and after. Everyday was the same day, the progression of time a mere fallacy and so Viktor was tired. Had he ever slept? It was hard for him to tell. The bone deep exhaustion never seemed to leave his eyelids as he worked. Even now, his eyes shut and time was behind him and before him and all around him, and he could not sleep with the thought of the past.
He sat up in bed in defeat, his tired arms shaking under the exertion of it. He saw the moon light up the floor at his feet. It reflected off the clasp of Sky’s journal. Viktor could feel the circle of time coming to a head, that the before and after could stretch infinitely and Sky would still be dead in infinity. He knew that she’d been real, that he could’ve touched her and heard her and her time had stretched alongside his. He knew that she had wanted to help people, that she’d been inspired by him and in her last moments, they were borne of her altruism. Sky had been what he and Jayce had been once as well.
Jayce. His beloved partner. His better half. The face of the future in Piltover. The one with his name in the history books. Deep down, Viktor despised him for this; he’d traded Heimerdinger’s legacy for a shadow that overclocked the entire city. In his attempt to help and be known, he’d slunk further and further behind Jayce as his radiant smile plastered coffee mugs and billboards. The reality was that Viktor had been left behind to rot. The more work he put into the Hexcore, the more time Jayce put into the council and becoming a hero. As Viktor pawed at his last chance to live, Jayce began to live for the first time. He was dying, and Jayce was getting over it before it had even happened.
The thought scared him into silent sobs. They wracked his frail body. He was so fucking cold, alone in his barren room that held nothing of his life except the memory of what he’d taken. He was freezing, and Jayce was warm and he wasn’t there and he’d never been there, not really. Viktor was a walking corpse and Jayce was full of blood and clean lungs. It was impossible for Jayce to know what Viktor had needed from him, not when there were lives to save and Viktor didn’t know either.
Right now, he needed warmth. He draped his sheets over his shoulders, his bloodshot eyes watching the sun’s ascent as the minutes ticked by. He’d go to the lab in an hour, and he’d be fine and sturdy like Jayce needed him to be when the council was a ship on choppy waves. The sun rose quickly in the hour, and Viktor very nearly fell asleep as his brain whispered in the presence of the overwhelming light. He wanted time to cease, then, to give him the opportunity of rest before his own mind ripped itself to shreds with guilt and pain and exhaustion.
But time had not stopped for him as it had stopped for Sky because he was still breathing and so painfully alive it hurt him down to his toes. And so because he was alive he got ready. And when that was done, his transformed leg a deadweight after he’d tried to destroy the Hexcore, he dragged himself to the lab where he would languish, alone, for the majority of the day until Jayce deigned to drop in, probably hoping he hadn’t accidentally let Viktor die in his absence. Not that Viktor would’ve gotten help if he was, obviously.
Jayce was at the lab when Viktor arrived, not working but sitting and bouncing his leg with a furrow in his brow and a frown on his face. Viktor hobbled in, walking past him as Jayce jumped up. Viktor continued to his table, to the chair he’d tried to use to destroy his work. He stood instead.
“Just the guy I was looking for,” Jayce said. He rubbed the back of his neck. Viktor’s eyes cut to him and back to the core.
“I’m not hard to find if you actually look, Jayce,” Viktor replied, his voice stony. His patience was thin, and the wire behind his eyes stretched taut, ready to snap. At least Jayce looked sheepish, if still anxiety ridden.
“I know, but I didn’t want to wake you up.”
Viktor laughed. He was so tired that the irony of it shook out a chortle that reverberated through his ribs. He wanted to cry so badly that his eyes stung with the salt. “Jayce, I haven’t been able to sleep in so long. I can’t do it. I thought you’d be able to see that, at least.”
Jayce had the audacity to look hurt, like he was the one who had been scandalized. “I’m sorry, Vik. I’ve been busy with the council, and the Undercity still has issues with us that we’re trying to solve. It’s been a lot for me to handle.” Jayce ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “I didn’t want this, you know. A council position. I took it because Mel believed someone with knowledge about Hextech should be there.”
Viktor did know. He knew Jayce was out of his depth, held up only by the manipulation of Mel and his own fucked up sense of duty and pride. “I know, Jayce.” The wire was snapping. “You can leave now. I promise I won’t die while you’re too busy.”
Jayce looked like he was about to lash out at him; in anger, in sadness, in guilt, maybe. “It isn’t fair for you to treat me like this, Vik. I’m trying my best, but I honestly don’t even know if it’s enough to keep anything afloat. I’m being pulled by so many different fucking people I’m losing my mind. I just… wanted to know that you’re okay.” The wire snapped.
“Jayce, please. You hope I’m okay so that you don’t have to add one more Undercity death to your list. You hope I don’t die while you’re away because then you’ll think it’s your fault and that if you had,” he put this next part in air quotes, “paid more attention, everything would’ve been fine.” Viktor’s mouth exploded with the taste of salt on his tongue, his cheeks finally warm with his tears. “But it’s not fine. I’m dying, and the only thing keeping me alive needs to be destroyed. You cannot fathom the depths of hell I have walked alone while you kiss the asses of those who sent me there.”
Viktor was a broken man who let out broken sobs. Jayce was a vortex, and Viktor was helpless to resist its pull. He wept into Jayce’s shoulder as the man pulled him closer, crushing him in his heat and sturdiness. It was a feeling Viktor had craved as long as he’d craved sleep.
“I’m sorry.”