Chapter Text
Grief is a powerful beast. It claws through the body and mind without mercy, leaving bloody destruction in its wake. There's no controlling it and there's no prediction of its pattern. Some days it's quiet, yet one can hear the small breaths it takes, gentle reminders it never leaves, just resting.
Grief is a familiar beast to some and an unknown to others. Some house it as a second skin, always beneath the surface, waiting to be released from its cage.
Some lay broken in its wake, broken prey under its jaw, bloody and raw from the carnage it draws.
It was the former, rather than the later, for Vi. Her whole life was filled with grief, some days she believes she was born with the beast residing within her, one of her kin.
Or was she one of their kin?
It's hard to answer such a question. Really, it's hard to do anything these days. So consumed with all that was lost. With all that was gained, only to be ripped away in moments. Time is such a fickle mistress, never enough, and yet, endless in many ways.
Infinite.
There's never enough time to conquer the beast that is grief, but there is enough time to quench its thirst. To sate it's hunger, for moments. 'Cause that's all life really is, just a sequence of captured moments in this endless infinite stream of time.
One must make the most of them, while the beast sleeps, because they are so fleeting and no matter how hard you grip them with closed fists, everything becomes like dust in the wind.
The days after the attack were not easy. In fact, to be blunt, they were really fucking hard. The beast was constantly chomping at the heels of so many people and there was so much to do. Injured to be cared for, with medics working around the clock trying to save those that put everything on the line.
Bodies to collect and lay to rest.
Families to be notified of those they lost. Children losing parents, parents losing children, lovers never to be reunited.
Vi was grateful for that at least, her one small mercy granted, that Caitlyn was going to live.
Finally someone she loved didn't die. The beasts ever so present, screaming in her ears in the wake of the explosion that once again took those she fought for.
Those she would die for. Those who sometimes wished she died with, in the beginning, where it all started.
She thinks about those days, especially now, during the days, the funerals, checking on Caitlyn in the hospital, the nights she spends in bed, consumed by the grief that ravages her soul.
She's so tired.
It's bone-aching tired, that stretches across every muscle, every inch of skin, and into her brain. Keeping her eyes open hurts; physically, mentally, emotionally, but closing them brings even more pain. She sees flashes, moments, given to her by the beast.
Flashes of Jinx, Vander, Claggor, Mylo, her mother, her father, and even Silco.
All the ghosts that haunt her. Taunt her. All forming together, all consuming, into a single entity.
Failure.
She's failed so many people. So many. Too many.
People ripped away from her grasps, because she simply wasn't strong enough. She's never going to be strong enough to protect those she loves.
She wasn't even there to protect Caitlyn. No, however thankful she is to Mel for doing so, after learning what transpired during their duel with Ambessa, there's still the truth that she couldn't even save the women she loved.
Someone else had to do it for her.
Just like she didn't convince Jinx to come back and save the day. That was Ekko. Her little man. The one who could really get into Powder's head when they were young.
The one who told them about the job back then in the first place. Where it really all started.
What no one tells you when the beast known as grief consumes you, is that his brother rage sometimes comes along for the ride.
Vi has a lot of rage.
It's mainly rage at herself, but sometimes, very rarely, she feels it towards others.
At Vander, when he was scolding her for doing something stupid.
At Powder when she wouldn't listen.
At Jinx for running away, for giving up.
Now? Now it's burning at Ekko. It's not right, she knows. It wasn't his fault, she understands. She's glad, grateful even, that after all this time he's alive. That at least someone was able to get through to Jinx.
But the rage is there. Hot and heavy. Like a fire straight through her veins.
But she's so tired. So she just lays in Caitlyn's bed, with tears streaming down her cheeks, screams clawing their way from her throat, and closes her eyes.
And lets the grief escape.
The sun was bright as it spilled through the window, across her face, causing her to squint in pain. Vi grunted, rolling over, away from the harness of the sun. Weary grey eyes opened slowly, heavy with sleep.
Heavy.
With effort, Vi sat up on the bed with a slight grimace, her shoulder making its pain known. Only a dislocation the docs said, with some bruises, and some non too deep cuts.
Some will scar, but the rest should heal in time. Vi wasn't worried. The physical pain wasn't the pain that hurt the most. No, that pain was hidden away, not shown to most.
Only one person really. One person who couldn't even see fully anymore. Permanent damage, Tobias had told her.
Irreparable.
Racking a hand over her face, Vi stood up and headed to the bathroom. She didn't feel like a shower, but she didn't want Caitlyn to see her like this when she woke up.
If she woke up today. It's been almost a week since the end of the battle and Caitlyn was still asleep, under the watchful eye of her father. He said she was just resting, as her body had clearly been through a lot, but Vi was not certain until she saw that beautiful shade of blue looking right at her. Needed to see that love reflected in Caitlyn's eye that she knows is the only thing keeping her sane.
So she takes her shower and grabs a small bite to eat, before heading out, down the streets, towards the hospital.
Piltover has never looked more Zaun than now. Blood still soaked the streets, thankfully the bodies of the fallen were gone. The wreckage of the blasts was still very noticeable with buildings half standing, and others in total ruin. Enforcers walked the streets, helping clean, pick up rubble, along with, surprisingly, many people from Zaun.
Ekko's firelights were there, somewhere among the crowd, helping the many homeless and still wounded, those who were not critical for the hospital, but still needed care.
Tents had been set up along the blocks, for the wounded, and Vi had never seen so much connection between Zaun and Piltover in her whole life.
It made her seethe.
After so many years of being hated by Pilties, hunted, ignored, the fact they finally work with those from Zaun, because Zaun fought with them and saved them, was not lost on her.
The fact that it was Ekko, a boy from Zaun, that saved the day was not lost on her.
She closed her eyes for a second, breathed in and released, unclench her fists, and kept walking.
It was so hard to appreciate this new connection when so many were not here to see it. So many who deserved it.
Vi turned the corner and the hospital loomed ahead. People rushed in and out of it, many tents were constructed along the street here, those with more critical injuries, however they could not go into the hospital. As a portion of the building had been hit with the blasts, its rubble laid on the streets for about a day, before it was taken away.
Many were injured and many were helping those injured. The scene reminded Vi of Zaun, its perseverance in the face of tragedy.
Walking into the hospital was no better, many families littered the area, some sleeping, some talking quietly to each other. Hands being held tight together, shoulders tense, and some children softly crying in their sleep.
Heart hurting, Vi walked past the main lobby and towards the stairwell. Caitlyn was on the 5th floor and she liked the small burn in her legs as she climbed. Too many thoughts floated in her head and the small pain the burn provided tended to be a welcome distraction. It wouldn't last, but it was enough for now.
The 5th floor was for the most critical, mainly those who fought on the front lines. Pilties and Zaunites alike, with wounds that were deep. Caitlyn was door four and it was quiet. Tobias must be with other patients, as he usually never leaves her side otherwise. (Vi wouldn't either, but Tobias pretty much had her thrown out, respectfully. Something about needing rest herself, which Vi scoffed at. She'll rest when she's dead.)
And there she was laying there, broken. Shaking her head, she approached the chair next to the bed, sat down, and carefully grabbed Caitlyn's hand. Even here, even now, wrapped in tubes and bandages, she was the most beautiful woman Vi's ever seen.
No, Ambessa had it wrong. Vi didn't capture Caitlyn's heart. Vi's heart belonged to Caitlyn. She'd give everything and anything for this woman. Her fists, her heart, her life.
"There's so many things I want to say to you. There's so many things in this life I don't understand. Why was I never enough for her? Why did my family have to die again and again and again? Will this grief ever leave my side? Will this anger ever leave my veins? Do I even deserve to be happy? Can I be happy? What am I, if I can't protect Powder or Jinx or Ekko, or You? Cait, there's so many things I don't understand, but there's one thing that I do. I love you. I love you so fucking much it hurts. I'm so scared to lose you, but I'm more scared of not having you. And I'm going to show it. Every fucking fucking day. I'm going to show it more than I showed it to Vander. To my brothers. To Powder. So please, please don't ever leave me again." Vi finished with a shuddering breath, tears pooling at her eyes, head down as she tried to hold them in.
The beast knocking, ever so present, behind clenched teeth. A sob working its way up, a tongue being bitten to fight it. What good would sobbing do? Vi's felt helpless in many moments of her life, but this one is so fresh it hurts so much and there-
There's movement, a hand clenching her own, monitoring beeping.
"I'm here Violet. I'm here."
A sob. Then two, three, and the river flows free.
And the grief is put at ease.
Grief is a predator and everyone is the prey. Caitlyn learned this the hard way. In truth, it's the only way. One cannot know the beast that is grief until it's in the scope of the rifle and unable to fire.
She was unable to fire. Unable to contain and unable to cage. It ran rampant, free, and stopped at nothing, nor no one, until it was fed. Everyone that came into her path would bleed. It would feast and feast and feast and she was unable to control its hunger. Like a blazing fire that spread and spread and spread and spread. All it did was consume,
leaving death in its wake.
Funny, since it was born from death. Life's tricky like that. Always two sides of the same coin. Two bullets loaded into the gun. Brothers. Sisters. Connected till the end.
However, this wasn't the end. She knows that now. It's not her first dance with grief and it probably won't be her last. As they say, grief is for the living, not for the dead.
The dead get peace.
The dead get silence.
The dead are free.
But she's not dead. And, even though sometimes she does, she doesn't want to be. There's so many things to do and make right. Too many people she hurt. Wrongs she did.
And there's Vi. Her Vi. Sweet Vi. In pain Vi. Once again filled with grief. Once again gets the wrong end of the stick. Or butt of the gun. Cailtyn winces, but not from the pain in her side or the ache in her eye. But of the past. Her deeds. Her missteps.
Her dance with grief.
It's so easy to blame the beast. So easy to point the finger, but she knows better. Her mother would be ashamed. She's ashamed. Of herself. Her actions and inaction.
One can't undo what has been done, but one can learn from it and make amends. Make it better. To everyone. The enforcers under her command. The Zaunites under her land. No, sorry, their land.
There's enough blood mixed on the streets for it to belong to both of them. Zaun and Piltover. Piltover and Zuan. There's so much to do and she can't fucking see half of it.
Can't stand. Can't shoot.
Oh Vi. Always losing those close to you. Always surrounded by pain. Despair. Consumed by the beast.
Yet she's there. Always. Next to you when you sleep. Helping you stand when you need to move. Helping you see.
And Caitlyn does see. The weight on Vi's shoulders. The tiredness seeped from her eyes.
The pain.
The grief.
The sadness that lays upon her skin like a blanket. Not comforting, but suffocating. Caitlyn can't breathe and she wonders how Vi can. How does Vi help, when she's suffering? How does Vi stand so strong, when her legs tremble?
Grief is a predator and she's become its prey. It's teeth are bloody, and sharp, and it's ripped her to shreds.
She's lost her mother and now her brother. Friends, comrades, citizens, many of those she was supposed to protect. She can't grip her weapon and can't see the enemy. It runs beneath her skin, douses her insides with oil, and sets her on fire.
It's always burning. The shame. It coats her insides and all she can see is the blood on her hands. Not her blood. Never hers. Theirs.
It stains her hands, her soul, her heart, and her eye. It's all she can see. All she can hear, past the blood rushing through her ears. The water scalds her skin when she showers, hot to the point of being painful, but it never washes the blood off. Nothing does. She doesn't know if anything ever will.
She's being consumed by grief and shame and pain and it's never going to end.
Or it wouldn't. It wouldn't end if she didn't have Vi. Her Vi. Her sweet, always strong, in pain Vi. Here, helping her in the shower. Helping her scrub her skin, helping her see past the red.
Past the beast.
"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." She sobs into a hard, muscular shoulder, wet hair plastered to her face. She's pleading, begging, for a forgiveness she doesn't deserve.
"I'm here Cait. I'm here." The hands on her tighten, ever strong, never relenting.
Grief is a predator and she was its prey, but she's in the arms of a hunter. A hunter with fist of steel and a heart twice as strong.
One that can help her see, help her load the gun, and
BANG.
Help her be free.
They're laying in bed, side by side, heart to heart, eye to eye. Holding each other like a lifeline and maybe that's what they are. Each other's life line. The days are long, loud, and busy. The nights are dark, quiet, filled with a lingering tightness in the air, almost like a longing. A longing for what, Caitlyn doesn't know, but it's there. Ever present, like the ghosts that now roam.
Her eye aches more in the night, something with the cold her father told her, but she thinks it's worse than that. It's the darkness that seeps over the horizon, it's all consuming and imposing. Blankets a world in mourning.
A world that's grieving.
Her people line the streets, helpless, and in pain.
Vi's people line the streets, helping, and in pain.
A hand on her face grounds her, makes her blink. Coming out of her haze, she gazes at Vi, at those eyes full of so much pain and love and oh.
"I love you, Violet." Eyes open wide, a small smile.
"I'm sorry I didn't say it before. I'm sorry about your father. I'm sorry about Jinx." Eyes close again, tears leak out the corner. She catches them with her thumbs, gentle pressure on the skin.
She doesn't understand how this amazing woman can go through so much and still be here for her. With her. Helping her. Keeping her sane. She'll never ask, afraid of the answer. Afraid she'll leave.
Hands tighten, eyes open again. Pain is there, yes, but love shines through. Stronger than the rest.
"Thank you." A mouth pressed to hers, it's hot and wet and perfect.
Vi is perfect. Imperfect, but perfect for her. Hands tangle in hair, pulling closer, ever so closer, a permanent connection.
Air greedily sucked in after mouths disconnect, and three eyes open. One eye stares into two, two into one.
She would do it again. The sacrifice she made was worth it, because in the end she only needs one eye to see Vi.
See this amazing woman in front of her. One eye to map her face, to embrace her love, and it's enough.
Vi will always be enough.