Chapter Text
Every year, when autumn gives way to winter, Viktor sees his family.
With a handful of flowers in his pocket, in a coat that doesn't quite protect him from the chill, and his cane in his hand, he leaves Piltover and descends into Zaun. His old house isn't at the farthest point away from the city, but it's still a long enough distance that he has to stop for a break every now and then.
He doesn't look particularly out of place. He wears blander clothes, uses his old cane that isn't as shiny, and doesn't bring anything valuable with him. It's almost second nature to him, making his way through the decrepit streets, trying not to catch anyone's eye. It reminds him of a childhood where being invisible was the best way to avoid being killed.
The house he once called home can hardly be classified as a building anymore. Entire sections of the walls are torn away and missing, the rotting insides exposed to anyone passing by. He always pauses at the door, never daring to set foot inside. He's not sure what he's afraid of finding, but it's enough to make him leave without a second thought.
Just down the path, in a small patch of ground that could've once been called a garden, is the grave. The stone slab is worn with age but is otherwise unchanged since the day he placed it, all those years ago. It's unmarked. Viktor never really considered engraving it: it feels like it would be a violation to carve into something so sacred to him, so significant. He can't bear the thought of seeing it any different than it is now.
He sits on the ground in an awkward, half-collapsing manner, trying not to jostle his leg too badly. The cold always makes it so much worse.
He takes the crumpled flowers out of his pocket and lays them in front of the stone, the dirt never quite managing to sprout grass down here. The chrysanthemums should be purple — they were, a few days ago, when he bought them. He meant to come here then, but something came up and now the flowers are tarnished brown, withering at the edges.
A few years ago, he would've been more upset about that, maybe enough to buy replacements.
Viktor can't bring himself to care right now.
Viktor sees his family. It happens every year.
Ester is kneeling behind the stone, her hands grasping its edges. Her eyes poke over the top, that vibrant amber hue they share. Shared.
"What's my genius little brother doing all the way down here?" she asks in their mother-tongue, her tone teasing.
She stands and walks around him. He knows she's not really there. If she were real, she wouldn't be fourteen anymore, and she wouldn't be out in the cold without her jacket, and she wouldn't be calling him her brother. Despite it all, there's no one around to listen, so he indulges his delusions.
"It's that time of year again. I promised that I'd visit every year," he replies.
"That was a long time ago," Ester says from behind him, and he imagines the tickle of breath behind his ear even though the chill of the air would outweigh it by far. "Though, it’s nice of you to still come by."
Her presence behind him disintegrates, and his mother is there, touching the flowers. "You're late. What kept you?"
"Sorry, máma... I met this inventor, Jayce, and... he's brilliant, his inventions could change the world and he's letting me help him..." Viktor tells her, "It's a lot of work, we've been busy, but I think we could be onto something incredible."
His mother smiles, cupping her hand on his face. Viktor swallows, allowing himself to imagine the hand is solid, eyes unblinking, staring at his mother's sad smile.
"You will do something incredible, Viktor. I always believed you would," she comforts him, smoothing her thumb over his cheek, and the use of a name she never knew him by is enough to make his eyes burn with she'd tears.
He blinks and she's gone. Again. The only thing left in her wake is the grave, the flowers unmoved, and the faintest sounds of a baby crying in the distance.
He sits there as the sun begins to set, leaving the area darkened, no street lamps to light the paths.
"Time to go," Viktor mumbles to the inanimate stone, struggling to push himself to stand. It's much colder now than it was when he arrived. His limbs are stiff and the flowers look like they've wilted already.
"I'll see you again next year," he reassures the empty air, glancing one last time at the patch of ground, then turns to leave the way he came.
\/\/\/\/\/\/ One Year Later \/\/\/\/\/\/
They've been busy. Viktor has hardly had time to leave the lab the past few weeks. They're so close to a breakthrough, he can feel it, but the weather is turning fast and he's already far behind his schedule. He should visit his family, soon, before it gets too late in the year. Ester has already started pestering him: despite her constant demands at him to stop coming, she appears an awful lot when he's not made his yearly visit.
He's started having the nightmares again, more frequently than usual, so he must be very late.
He glances over at Jayce. He looks exhausted, dark bags under his eyes and a sloppiness in his actions. Viktor imagines he looks the same, if not worse. He feels himself leaning on his cane more heavily.
His cane. The glittering gold accents and vibrant red. He can't go to Zaun with this, but he can't bring himself to go all the way home just to travel all the way back again. The weather is bad enough that he can't stand the thought of prolonging his time outside any more than strictly necessary.
He tries to convince himself he doesn't have to go, they wouldn't want him being out in such cold weather, but he needs this. For his own peace of mind.
Viktor huffs, looking in vain around the workshop to see if there happens to be a spare cane lying around. He doubts it very much.
"What're you looking for, V?" Jayce blearily asks him, rubbing his eyes aggressively.
"Do we still have any of the prototype canes around here?"
"I don't think so? Why?"
Viktor swallows. He should probably tell Jayce where he goes every year. It's not his business, he has no obligation to, but it feels wrong keeping it a secret from him after being close friends — best friends — for so long.
"Uh, I'm going to Zaun... to visit... my family." He averts his gaze, the half-truth feeling worse than not telling him at all.
Jayce's eyes widen in surprise and his entire body language seems more alive than it has for days. "Oh! You... um, okay. Why do you need a different cane?"
Rolling his eyes, Viktor silently scoffs. Jayce, so clever yet so naive. "If I bring this to the Undercity, I'm guaranteed to get robbed."
"I can just make you a new one," Jayce says with no hesitation, seemingly not even thinking through what he's said.
"Yes, and once it's taken from me, how am I supposed to walk home?"
At this, realisation washes over Jayce. "Oh. Hmm."
Viktor clicks his tongue, waving his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it. I'll make do."
"No, wait! What if... I come with you?"
That makes Viktor pause. "What?" He asks, his lie suddenly seeming to have more consequences than he first imagined.
"Yeah, I could come with you and make sure no one tries to rob you- and even if they do, I can be a... cane... replacement?" Jayce explains awkwardly, holding his arm out to demonstrate.
Viktor snorts at that one and chuckles, and it's enough to banish his worries. For now. "Alright, you can come with me."
"Really?" Jayce sounds shocked but quickly recovers. "I mean, yes! Are we leaving now?"
"If that's alright with you."
"Of course."
\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/-\-/
Viktor changes into some older, scruffier clothes and instructs Jayce to do the same, so he puts on some grubby work clothes that have seen better days. His coat is apparently too luxurious to wear to Zaun, so he wears his spare that he hasn't worn in years that hardly zips up anymore, stretching over his broad shoulders. Once they're ready, they leave the lab and head out onto the cold streets of Piltover.
Jayce didn't really think through the idea of actually meeting Viktor's family: a family he's never once heard mentioned, in their time knowing each other, in their fleeting moments of vulnerability together, in all of their heart-to-hearts. He's worried he's made a mistake, that he might be imposing or getting himself involved with something he shouldn't. However, Viktor seems to be quietly content; maybe a little gloomier than usual but he could just be tired. Jayce knows how hard they've been working recently... he should mention taking a short vacation.
They stop by a flower stall first. Viktor asks for chrysanthemums and, when handed blue ones, corrects the stall owner and asks specifically for purple. The purple ones are less fresh than the blue, but Viktor doesn't seem to care, paying the wage and thanking the owner.
"Why purple ones?" Jayce asks out of curiosity.
"They're my mother's favourites," Viktor smiles without teeth, fiddling with the petals.
"What's her name?"
"Lenka," Viktor whispers, hardly above a breath, then looks to the side like he's spotted someone he knows, but Jayce sees no one there.
"That's a nice name," Jayce replies, admiring the way his partner's face softens.
"It is."
They walk in silence until they reach Zaun, when Viktor tenses ever so slightly.
"Everything okay?" Jayce asks.
Viktor has stopped walking, staring at the darkened city ahead of them. "Could we sit for a while? The cold is... irritating."
They sit on a bench, practically on the line that separates the twin cities.
"So, who's in your family? You said about your mother... what about your father?"
He regrets it almost as soon as he's asked, watching as Viktor's face twists into a scowl.
"I never met him. The bastard never stuck around long enough for me to remember. I don't know who he is or where he is and, quite frankly, I do not care," Viktor spits out, his grip on the cane's handle tightening.
"Right, sorry..." Jayce mumbles, thinking of his own dad, how little he knew him. Not because he left, but...
"My dad died when I was little," Jayce admits, and wishes he could unsay it. "I remember him, a little, but... I wish I remembered more."
Rather than looking offended, Viktor just stays hunched over, staring down at the floor, then quietly mutters an apology which Jayce brushes off.
After a moment, Viktor swipes at his nose, then suggests they should start moving again.
The air is stodgier down here, the pollution so thick Jayce can almost see it floating around. He thinks he probably should've brought them both ventilators — what with Viktor's lungs already wrecked — but everyone down here seems to be breathing fine, Viktor included, so he doesn't say anything.
Viktor looks... distracted. He keeps looking around him like he's watching someone, even though there's nobody there... maybe he's just anxious, perhaps regretting bringing Jayce along with him. Jayce decides he's better off letting him be rather than bombarding him with any more questions.
They pass by beggars and gangs of what look like thieves, some of whom eye up Viktor's cane, but are soon deterred by Jayce's pointed glare. No one really bothers them.
"I have two sisters," Viktor says out of nowhere, absentmindedly rolling a few stray leaves into the stems of the flowers between his fingers, "Ester and... Darina."
"Huh. Only boy in the family? That's something we have in common," Jayce jokes, only because he doesn't really know how else to reply.
The joke doesn't seem to land, Viktor looking like he's been slapped, staring at Jayce like a cat backed into a corner.
Jayce tries his best to remedy whatever he said wrong. "I mean, without my dad in the picture, and just me and my mom, and her friends being mostly women... I guess it doesn't really count, does it? Haha..." he cringes, barely stopping himself from dragging his hand down his face in humiliation.
Viktor doesn't reply. The silence is tense, but Jayce is starting to think his comment isn't the cause.
They've been walking for a while now, long enough that Jayce feels almost impatient. He wants to ask if they're almost there. It's not that he thinks Viktor is leading him down here as some sort of trap — he knows his best friend would never do that to him — but just being down here makes him feel like he's being watched, like he's breaking the law in a way that could get him killed.
Before he can ask, though, Viktor clears his throat, mumbling, "um, we're here."
They've stopped outside a house. Calling it a house is generous, but calling it anything else feels... wrong. It's barely standing, most of the structure collapsed and weathered over time.
"I grew up here, more or less," Viktor tells him, "up until I was thirteen. That's when it started falling apart."
They stand there, staring, for what feels like eons. Then, Viktor starts to walk past the house to a small patch of dirt behind it.
Half buried in the soil is a stone slab.
Oh.
"Ahoj máma," Viktor greets what is clearly a grave, standing in front of it for a moment before lowering himself stiffly to the ground, placing his cane on the ground beside him, "ahoj Ester a mala Darina."
Jayce stands still, still reeling from shock. He hadn't realised... when Viktor said visiting, he didn't think...
"This is Jayce, who I told you about. He's my bodyguard for the day," Viktor chuckles with no real humour, finally placing the purple flowers in front of the grave, pausing for a moment, "I know I'm really late this year... I'm sorry, we've just been so busy..."
Viktor continues rambling to the dead air, and Jayce finally manages to recover from his initial disorientation. He walks over to Viktor, who pointedly doesn't look as he sits down next to him.
Bringing his knees up to his chest, Jayce does the only thing he really knows how to do: try to support his partner.
"Hi, Lenka," Jayce greets with as much happiness he can muster, which isn't much, "I hope Viktor has said good things about me."
He can feel Viktor staring at him now, but Jayce's gaze is focused on the blank slab in front of him. It doesn't even have her name.
They've both stopped talking, simply sitting in the quiet of the outskirts of the Undercity. The wind is biting, but at least it isn't raining.
"She died when I was ten," Viktor finally admits, quietly.
"And... your sisters?" Jayce can't help his curiosity, and he has a hunch Viktor hasn't actually told anyone this information in a long time, if ever.
"Ester... she was fourteen, killed by an enforcer at a rally. Máma was heartbroken," Viktor stops to take a breath, voice barely wavering, "máma was pregnant with Darina, and when she was finally born, she... Lenka died, and I was left with little Darina, all by myself."
Viktor looks on the brink of tears, yet there's still a smile on his face. Jayce slowly wraps his arm around Viktor's shoulders, as if asking permission, and is relived when Viktor leans into the embrace, inclining his head ever so slightly into Jayce's shoulder.
"I was only young, I didn't know how to look after a baby, but I tried... I really did..." Viktor whispers the last part, like he's trying to prove it to someone who isn't Jayce. "But she kept crying and crying and I didn't know what to do, then the next morning I woke up and she was..."
The dam finally gives way and Viktor is crying, quiet and stiff like he's trying to repress it. Jayce readjusts his position so he can wrap his other arm around him too, fully embracing him, and Viktor embraces him back. They sit there, holding each other until Viktor's sobs die down.
"I keep coming back here," Viktor mumbles, still holding onto Jayce. "I keep coming back and it doesn't help. It hurts more and more every time and I don't know how to make it stop."
Jayce gently pulls away from the embrace, even when Viktor seems to chase after it, so he can look at his partner's face. His eyes are red, face flushed and damp.
"It doesn't stop,” Jayce tells him,” you can't make it. That pain, it's... with you, forever. I think the only way you can make it hurt less is just... by moving on. Not forgetting, not letting go of that love, but also looking to the future," Jayce huffs, shaking his head. "I've no idea if that makes any sense. I have to be honest with you Vik, I'm just about ready to collapse."
Viktor chuckles a little through his tears, wiping his hand over his face, and says, "yes, I think I am, too."
Jayce gets up first, supporting Viktor as he moves to stand too. Before they head back towards home, Jayce pauses outside the house again.
"Jayce?"
"You said this was where you lived..." Jayce begins, taking a step past the threshold where the door might once have been. "Can I... have a look around?"
Viktor stares, anxiously wringing his cane's handle. "I haven't been inside in years..." A moment later, he nods, but makes no move to go inside with him.
Jayce knows what it's like to lose a loved one. He knows he would do anything to visit his old house, to rescue any memorabilia that was left of his dad, but he can't. For Viktor, though? He at least has the opportunity to try.
Stepping carefully over the rotten floorboards, Jayce examines what little is left of the place. There's evidence that there were a few things hung on the walls, likely photographs, but all that's left are faint square imprints. He finds a bedroom, most of the furniture still inside, just rotting. There's nothing left on the tables or cabinets, the layers of dust hiding any spots where something might once have been.
"What are you doing?" he hears Viktor call out. He sounds closer, like he’s only in the other room
"I just wanna see if..." Jayce begins but stops at the bed, something in the back of his mind telling him to pull up the old decaying mattress from the rickety bed-frame. So he does.
Underneath is a notebook, water-damaged and worn, but still in one piece.
"How did you find that?" Viktor asks from behind him, stepping closer to get a better look at the small book. He hesitates reaching for it, like he's unsure whether or not he should touch it, before finally deciding to. There's a look in his eyes that's full of horror and wonder all at once.
Flicking through the pages, a few more tears run down his face. Jayce doesn't know why, can't understand without the context, but understands the object's importance nonetheless. He's glad his friend can have something of his old life, of his lost family, no matter what it may be.
Inside one of the pages is a necklace, gold in colour. It's only a thin chain with a tiny heart-shaped pendent attached, but Viktor clutches it in his hand like it's the most precious thing in the universe.
They leave the house without saying another word.
It's dark now, the sun setting over the horizon. They walk in a tense silence most of the way, but the book and chain seem to have a calming effect of Viktor, his face returning to its usual pallor and his eyes looking less irritated. By the time they reach Piltover again, he almost looks like he hasn't cried at all. He just looks tired, and Jayce is sure he looks the same himself.
"Uh, Viktor," Jayce clears his throat, hoping, begging what he's about to ask won't be taken the wrong way, "would you want to come meet my mom? I'm seeing her tomorrow. I mean, I understand if it's- if you don't- it was just an idea."
"Jayce," Viktor looks into his eyes with such softness that Jayce feels like he's melting. "I would love to meet your mother, if she would like to meet me. Where should I go?"
"I can meet you at your place? Midday?" Jayce suggests, relieved his offer wasn't too obnoxious.
"It's a date," Viktor smiles. "Thank you for finding these..." he gestures to the items in his hand, "and for coming with me today. It helped a lot."
"Of course. And I can come again, next time, if you'll have me," Jayce swallows, the wording not coming out quite how he intended.
"I'll always have you, Jayce," Viktor says, in such a matter-of-fact way that Jayce feels like he could explode, "I'll see you tomorrow, then."
Jayce blinks and nods his head, "Yeah. Tomorrow."
Smiling at him one last time, Viktor turns and heads in the direction of his apartment, staring at the book in his hand.
Waiting just a moment more, Jayce decides he's far too tired to try and comprehend any of the day's events, and makes his way back to his own apartment. He can think about it more tomorrow.