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Jayce shakes a pile of scraps out onto the workbench. Viktor is fighting the college. His hands move on their own, guided by muscle memory more than conscious intent. Well, Viktor is fighting Stanwick, but it’s pretty clear whose side the college is taking. He’s not sure what he’s making but it’ll be impressive by most standards, whatever it ends up being. Viktor is fighting Stanwick, the college isn’t listening to him, and now he’s asked Jayce to testify for him.
But why should he? It’s true that Blitzcrank is all Viktor’s work. Who else would create that absolute marvel of engineering and then send it to Zaun ? But that’s really the crux of the matter isn’t it? Blitzcrank is all Viktor’s work, Jayce has nothing to do with it. It’s not Jayce’s project, not his battle to fight, not his problem. He already has too many other things going on besides. Things like his capstone, the due date of which is fast approaching. The capstone he’s working on with Viktor. Jayce puts down his half assembled thing.
Viktor wouldn’t leave over this, would he? Jayce knows he would, if someone stole his work and no one took his complaint seriously. It’s not like Jayce needs the college though. He’s here because it’s convenient and having the credentials will be nice, but he doesn’t need it. The Gioparas will set him up with whatever he wants regardless. What does Viktor have? A pile of junk in his deathtrap of a home city? Sure, he was going to the Academy before, but he’d done the sensible thing and left it for Piltover at the first opportunity. He still hadn’t really cut ties though, had he? Not like he and Viktor talk about much outside of work, but it was always a safe bet that if Viktor was away from the lab he was visiting Zaun. And he’d built Blitzcrank in the first place to help clean that cesspool up.
Jayce swipes his thing off the bench and dumps it back in the scraps bin. He has a hearing to attend.
Jayce’s input at the hearing doesn’t actually help at all, which is extremely frustrating, but Viktor returns to the lab the day after he testifies and they continue work on their capstone like nothing happened. Well, not like nothing happened. Viktor is pretty obviously bitter about the whole thing, as he should be, but he’s channeling it into work, which Jayce can appreciate.
They end up making a decent amount of progress on the final design for the diving suits, but as they’re packing up for the day, Viktor gets this supremely uncomfortable look about him. Jayce only notices because Viktor clears his throat loudly, and when Jayce looks over he won’t meet his eye. Jayce is ready to brush it off as Viktor being, frankly, kind of a weird guy, but then he takes a deep breath and in halting words says, “I, um- I just wanted to- thank you- for supporting me. I understand you likely had personal motivations, but it means a lot regardless.”
And then he grabs his bag and cane and hobbles out of the lab faster than Jayce has ever seen. Jayce is left standing in the middle of the lab, flabbergasted, as a strange lightness grows slowly in his chest until it overtakes him. In wonder, he rests a hand over his sternum. Is this what friendship feels like?
After that, Jayce makes an effort to be nicer to Viktor. Not that Jayce has ever been mean to Viktor, no matter what anyone else at the college might say about him. Jayce just has standards, and while Viktor might be Zaunite and strange besides, he’s also brilliant. He’s the first lab partner Jayce has ever had that’s felt like a partner , and he might even be Jayce’s first friend.
So Jayce starts making small talk while they work, and despite a little confusion and hesitance Viktor responds. He walks Viktor to the elevator when he leans a little too heavily on his cane and glares at the other passengers until they make enough room. He starts bringing coffee to their lab for the both of them and adjusts Viktor’s order each time until he ends up with a sugary slop Viktor seems to enjoy. Before long, the atmosphere in their lab becomes amicable in a way it’s never been and Jayce is happy in a way he didn’t know he could be.
Eventually, they finish the diving suits and ship them out to the dock for use. Well, for testing, but he and Viktor designed and built them. They’re going to work. So Jayce forgets about them for a little while. Sure, the functionality and impact determine whether he and Viktor get to graduate this year, but come on. Of course they will.
Jayce is having a late night at the lab messing around with a personal project when the report comes in. He skims it. Then reads it. Then he’s sprinting through the halls of the college toward the student apartments and banging on Viktor’s door in the dead of night.
He answers in a daze, squinting up at Jayce against the harsh lighting of the hall, hair a mess, hand rubbing absently at an eye. “Wha- Jayce?”
Upon recognizing him he wakes up a bit, but Jayce is only half listening. Instead, he pushes past Viktor as soon as the door opens and paces restlessly in the living room. Viktor sighs and closes the door.
“What are you doing here? Do you have any idea what time it is?”
He starts to limp over to the couch and it’s only then Jayce notices Viktor isn’t using his cane. “Why’d you come to the door like that?” His tone is harsh but he still carefully guides Viktor the rest of the way over and they both collapse onto the cushions together.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because someone was raising the dead at my door. Forgive me if I’m a little disoriented.”
Jayce at least has the good grace to feel a little guilty about it. He hadn’t really been thinking of the time when he’d come over, but in his defense, Viktor sleeps even less than Jayce. There was a good possibility he was still awake.
“Why are you here, Jayce?” Viktor asks again.
Jayce pulls the thick report packet out of his bag and hands it to Viktor. The problem isn’t the suits, obviously. Those work just as well as intended. Normally, that would be the end of it for Jayce. Incompetence frustrates him to no end, but that’s the nature of other people. If they find ways to mess up the job despite the suits, that's hardly Jayce’s problem, though he might be convinced to invent or improve something to reduce risks further. Mostly, this is for Viktor, who has always cared more than Jayce can understand.
When he’s done, Viktor sets the report on his coffee table and rests his elbows on his thighs, hands clasped under his chin. Jayce gives him a moment, then Viktor leans back into the couch with a sigh and they start brainstorming.
It’s harder than Jayce is used to. There’s really not much that can be done to the suits themselves, not much they hadn’t already implemented or discarded, and as the night drags on and they both get frustrated, Viktor’s ideas become more and more disturbingly Zaunite until, “I think this could work.” And then he proceeds to lay out the basics behind neurological shunts and chemtech and how he wants to implement them with such a blatant disregard for basic human dignity and free will that-
“Viktor!” Jayce doesn’t mean to yell, but he’s never been this genuinely angry at someone. Viktor stops mid-sentence and looks at him with wide eyes. “You cannot do that.”
Silence reigns in the wake of Jayce’s outburst but he can see in real time Viktor processing, can see exactly when he goes from surprised to indignant to furious.
“Why not?” He doesn’t yell, can’t, but his tone is venomous all the same. “The equipment is fine, there’s nothing to improve there. It’s as good as it’s going to get.” And Jayce knows that. He knows , but- “The only issue is human error and we can fix that .”
“This isn’t human error you’re talking about, it’s free will . Viktor, I get things are different ,” and the way he spits the word truly encompasses the full breadth of his disgust, “in Zaun, but in Piltover we have rules. We have morals . You can’t do that to people.”
Jayce was wrong before, about Viktor being furious. As soon as he’s done speaking he realizes this is Viktor furious .
“I can’t what ,” he hisses, “save their lives?”
He stands too quickly, sways dangerously on shaky legs. Jayce reaches to support him automatically but Viktor slaps his hand away, grabs the back of the couch and leans heavily on it instead.
“I suppose that’s not something a Piltie would be interested in, but whatever you seem to think of me, I actually care.”
Jayce could scream. Why can’t Viktor just get it ? Why is it now of all times that they seem to be, for the first time, on different pages? “Of course I care , Viktor. I don’t want anyone to die, but this is unconscionable. Some things are worse than death.”
“You think I don’t know that!” he shouts. His voice breaks on the last syllable and he doubles over coughing.
“Hey!” Jayce takes a step towards him. He’s still angry, so angry, but this is Viktor . “Let’s ju-”
“Don’t touch me,” he wheezes, struggling to recover.
Viktor drags himself behind the couch. His fingers claw into the fabric until his knuckles whiten, elbows locked straight but tucked close to his body, like the obstacle is the only thing keeping him from launching at Jayce. Like it’s the only thing protecting him.
“As you’ve so keenly pointed out, things are different in Zaun,” his voice low and quiet now, rasping harshly. “Sometimes the only water available to drink is straight from the Pilt. Surviving a factory spill might only mean you live long enough to turn rabid from the toxins. You don’t know how bad life can get, Jayce Talis. Do not lecture me about what is worse .”
He drops.
The thud of his body on the floor startles Jayce into motion. He rounds the couch. His knees sting when they meet the thin carpet. Viktor is crumpled in a heap, limbs askew, a marionette whose strings have been unceremoniously cut. Jayce props him up, pulls him in until Viktor is leaning into his shoulder despite his ineffectual attempts to shove away. Eventually he becomes too tired even for that, and while Viktor takes ragged breaths Jayce checks him over, arranges him into a position that puts less strain on his joints.
When he recovers enough, he asks, “Is it such a bad thing, if they can survive?” but there’s no passion in it, all his energy drained away. “It wouldn’t even be permanent, only while they’re working.”
Seeing Viktor like this, so defeated, Jayce no longer wants to fight. Gently as he can manage, he responds, “The ethics board would never allow it.”
For a second, it seems like Viktor is going to start again, but all he says, weakly, is “I see.”
There’s no more talk of it after that. Jayce helps Viktor back to bed, asks more than once on the way if he wouldn’t rather see a doctor. But Viktor insists he’s fine, that all he needs is rest and he’ll be as good as he gets by morning. Jayce isn’t sure he believes him, but Viktor knows his body best, and Jayce is- Jayce is scared.
He pushed Viktor so far tonight, poisoned the air between them with vitriol he can’t take back. Despite this new insight into Viktor’s abhorrent lack of morality, he’s still Jayce’s friend. The only person he can’t stand to cut ties with, even after this. Jayce is right , but for once in his life it doesn’t feel like enough.
Jayce arrives at their lab the next day with coffee for both of them. Their capstone is done. They don’t have any more assignments. There’s no reason for him to be here, no reason for Viktor to show up, but where else would either of them be? So even though all he ends up doing is pushing pieces of scrap around, he stays. And waits. And waits. And then it’s getting dark outside and the coffee is tepid and Viktor still hasn’t appeared. He isn’t there the next day either, or any of the ones after, and despite telling himself he’s going to check on him, just to make sure he’s still alive, Jayce never goes back to his apartment.
Eventually the academic board gets back to him about what a success their capstone is and suddenly Jayce is too preoccupied preparing for graduation to haunt their lab. He’s not as excited as he’d imagined. It hadn’t been hard work to get here, but it had been a lot. From him and Viktor both. Now all he can manage is a vague sense of dread. If the college isn’t forcing them together, what’s stopping Viktor from avoiding him indefinitely?
The day before the ceremony, Jayce stops by their lab one last time. If Viktor has been in at all since the last time Jayce was, it doesn’t show. Instead, he takes in the old signs of cohabitation that have built up over years of working in the same space. Sketches litter benchtops and cork boards, notes in both their handwriting scratched directly on designs or scrawled on scrap paper and pinned up. In the corner, a sheet thrown over them, are the prototypes for Blitzcrank’s extendable arms. Viktor hadn’t wanted to look at them, after, but he hadn’t been able to put them aside either. Eventually Jayce had covered them for him.
All of it will need to be cleared out sooner or later. The college hasn’t given him an exact timeline, but after graduation, Jayce will be moving to the northside where the Gioparas have promised him a workshop of his own.
Graduation is tomorrow. He’s leaving after that. This is his last chance. If he doesn’t speak with Viktor tomorrow, can’t convince him, Jayce won’t- Jayce may not-
He has one last chance.
That night, sleep does not come easy, mind racing with all the ways he might possibly fix this.
There’s someone in Jayce’s kitchen. It’s still dark and he can only see by the light that crawls around his bedroom door, can hear the dull thud of his cabinets closing and the sharp click of his crockery on his countertops. Heart racing, he rolls out of bed, grabs the first solid thing he touches. With a deliberateness that stems as much from reluctance as caution, he eases the door open. His feet are blessedly silent against his carpet. Rounding the corner with a war cry, weapon raised high, Jayce comes face to face with-
“Viktor?”
He’s leaning on the counter, absently stirring a pot set over the lit stove. In the artificial lighting, the shadows under his eyes deepen to dark bruising, his usually pale complexion washed out to a deathly pallor. The shambling corpse of a man that Jayce has come to care deeply for.
“You look horrible.”
“Thank you, Jayce. I hadn’t noticed.”
Viktor spoons the contents of the pot into a couple of mugs and offers him one. Jayce takes it hesitantly but doesn’t drink any, keeps his attention solely on Viktor. He’s very… calm.
“Er, uh, how did you get in?” Wait no, that’s not important right now. “Are you okay?”
“Picked the lock.” He gestures vaguely at the door.
They stand in silence for a long moment. Jayce has a million things he wants to say, a million different ways he’d imagined this conversation would go, but now, confronted with it, everything he’d come up with seems woefully insufficient.
“I wanted to thank you.” Jayce flinches.
“You- you did?”
“Well, yes. I know I reacted poorly in the moment, and for that I apologize. Our conversation the other night was one I needed to have. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since then.”
Hope blooms. Maybe he won’t have to say anything at all. Of course Viktor is too intelligent not to have come around to the correct conclusion on his own.
“That’s- oh man, Viktor you have no idea how mu-”
“I’ll be returning to Zaun at the end of the week.”
“What?”
“You were right. Piltover is different from Zaun. I knew that, but I was so desperate for the prestige and resources I deluded myself. Piltover will never accept necessary innovation if it conflicts with its arbitrary delineation between right and wrong.”
Jayce makes to grab his shoulder, to- to shake some sense into him or- or something , but both his hands are occupied. “Hey, come on. That’s- Is that really necessary? I mean, let’s talk about this, at least.”
“Jayce,” Viktor sets his mug down, shifts his weight off the counter and grabs his cane, “answer me honestly. Would you ever change your mind on this? Could you?”
He doesn’t speak. They both already know the answer.
Viktor sighs. “For what it’s worth, this was not an easy decision to make. Despite our differences, I have enjoyed working with you. I would not mind doing it again, if you ever find you can stomach such a thing.”
He leaves Jayce like that, standing in his kitchen, helpless to do anything as he takes the only thing Jayce has ever considered worth keeping with him. Jayce will see him tomorrow. Jayce will never see him again.