Work Text:
Italics are dreams and hallucinations.
Vi stands with her arms crossed, a frown etched across her face. The flickering light from a distant streetlamp casts shadows over her. Her posture is defensive, almost like she’s bracing for something.
“Caitlyn?” Vi whispers, her chest feeling constricted. "You've changed, Cait. I don't even recognize you…you promised you wouldn’t.”
Caitlyn stands a few steps away, her back straight, her sharp eyes scanning the horizon. Her uniform has evolved—more tactical now, with the authority of her new position as General, though her gaze is still as focused as ever. There's a slight distance between them, not just physically but emotionally. Her voice is calm, measured, but there's an undercurrent of frustration at Vi's lack of understanding. “I had no choice.” Caitlyn growls, anger reflected in her eyes. “ I am another officer, Vi. And I’m still the same person. I’ve just... adapted to what this city needs. Things aren’t as simple as they used to be." her voice is strained, she is weary. “You left me with no choice!”
Vi narrows her eyes, her fists clenching. Her tone grows more intense as she steps forward, the fire in her voice reflecting worry, mixed with intense betrayal. “"Adapted? You used to care about people. You were always the one who made sure we didn’t lose sight of what mattered. But now? I didn’t force you to turn into this!” She screamed angrily at her. “I-I didn’t force you…this isn’t you.” she whispered, holding down the tears forming in her eyes.
“I still care about people, Vi. Piltover needs order, needs leadership. Your sister needs to be gone.” She muttered angrily.
“She is not my sister anymore!” Vi growled, tired of this conversation.
“Then I guess you were supposed to kill her! but you never sided with me on this, and I was a fool to believe it possible, you have her blood. And maybe you were right all along…I am acting like her.” Caitlyn angrily whispered back. “You were right, isn’t that what you wanted to hear?” Vi’s eyes fill with tears. It hurts. It’s unbearable and seems unreal but it isn’t. There’s a long silence, and Vi looks at her, as if weighing the words carefully.
She doesn’t know how to respond. She’s torn between the Caitlyn she knows and this new version of her. But there’s a deep hurt in her eyes, and she turns away, struggling to find the words.
She wakes up startled, drenched in sweat. She had that dream again, and again, but it seems to change every single time, the outcome doesn’t. She shouldn’t mop about it, there is so much to do, so much happening outside in the real world. But this hurts.
She rubs her hands together, trying to ignore the ache in her chest. Her eyes scan the horizon, but she isn’t really seeing anything. Her thoughts keep drifting back to Caitlyn, how she’s become someone distant. A deep breath shakes through her chest as the memory of their last time together hits her again. The pain is still fresh in her stomach.
She knows these dreams are a product of her mind, but she also knows there’s some truth to them. She wants her old Caitlyn but she doesn’t even know if she was hers to begin with.
Her eyes sting with the unshed tears she’s not quite ready to let fall. She takes another swig of the bottle, hoping it’ll numb the ache, but it doesn’t.
“You can’t just change like that. You can’t just walk away and expect me to understand.” She scoffs, trying to shake away the emotion.
Her thoughts scatter—flashes of the past. Caitlyn, serious but smiling, always there to pull her out of trouble, always keeping her grounded. Vi remembers the early days—their fights, their victories, and how Caitlyn was the first person to trust her when everyone else just saw her as a brawler. Caitlyn was always the one who understood her, even when no one else did. But now… things feel too different and she hates it.
Vi slams the bottle down on the ground, frustrated with herself, with the situation. She stands up abruptly, pacing around on the rooftop, trying to shake off the feeling that’s sinking deeper— abandoned .
"Why’d you have to go and change, huh? Why did you have to go and be the hero Piltover needed, instead of the one I needed?" Shouting to the sky, voice raw.
There’s a long silence, and Vi’s fists clench in the air, then slowly drop to her sides. Her breathing slows, but the pain doesn’t go away. She finally sits back down, her legs hanging off the edge of the roof, the bottle now forgotten. The weight of her thoughts drags her down.
She’s angry, so angry—but not just at Caitlyn. Vi’s angry at herself too. Maybe she never realized how much she depended on Caitlyn, how much she needed her to be by her side, fighting the good fight together. But Caitlyn’s not that person anymore, and that’s something Vi has to accept. And she fought for what was right, if no one can understand that it’s not her fault.
“Caitlyn, you need to stop pacing!” Maddie shouted. Caitlyn’s eyes bore into her, deadly.
“It’s General Kiramman, enforcer.” She gritted, angrily. Maddie rolled her eyes and came to stand next to her.
“Oh, come on. Last night…” She started but Caitlyn cut her short.
“Last night meant nothing, I needed a release and you needed company, that’s all.” She said with indifference, and there was truth in her words. She couldn’t even think of having something else with anyone, not after everything. She craved affection, but this was nothing. Nothing could compare to what she felt for Violet. Maddie’s eyes shined with hurt, but she didn’t say anything, took her things and left the room. And Caitlyn was grateful for it.
She exhaled heavily, running a hand through her disheveled hair. The emptiness in her chest hadn’t eased; if anything, it felt worse. She stared at the door Maddie had slammed shut, the echo reverberating in the hollow quiet of her quarters.
"Release," she muttered bitterly under her breath. The word tasted sour now. No matter how many fleeting moments of connection she sought, they did nothing to fill the void. Nothing could replace the person she truly wanted—needed—but couldn't reach anymore.
Her gaze drifted to the desk in the corner, cluttered with reports and maps of Piltover. A folded photo lay beneath the scattered papers. Caitlyn hesitated before pulling it out, her fingers trembling as she unfolded it. The edges were frayed from how many times she’d looked at it—Vi grinning with that cocky smirk, her arm slung around Caitlyn’s shoulders during a rare moment of peace.
She ran her thumb over the image, her throat tightening. "You left me first," she whispered, though the words didn’t carry the weight of accusation. They were a confession, an admission of the hurt she didn’t want to admit aloud. Vi's absence was like an open wound, one that her new responsibilities only deepened.
A knock at the door pulled Caitlyn from her thoughts. She quickly tucked the photo away, masking her vulnerability with the practiced composure of a General .
"Come in," she barked, her voice sharp.
A young officer stepped in, saluting stiffly. “General Kiramman, we’ve got intel on Zaunite activity near the Sun Gates. It might be related to Jinx.”
Caitlyn’s jaw tightened. Business as usual. She nodded curtly and grabbed her coat, slipping back into the role of Piltover’s unwavering protector. The fragile humanity she’d allowed herself for a brief moment was tucked away, replaced by the hardened exterior she had cultivated.
Meanwhile, Vi sat on the edge of the roof, watching the sunrise creep over the smog of Zaun. The bottle at her side had been emptied, but it hadn’t done its job. Her head was buzzing, but the ache in her chest remained sharp, unrelenting.
“You’re spiraling,” a voice cut through the quiet, low and gravelly.
Vi didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. “What do you want, Vander?” she muttered, her tone laced with irritation.
The ghostly figure of her old mentor stepped forward, his presence as solid as her memories allowed. “You’ve been sitting here, night after night, drinking yourself into oblivion and wallowing in your regrets. That’s not the Vi I know.”
Vi scoffed, her hand tightening around the bottle. “The Vi you knew isn’t here anymore.”
“Bullshit,” Vander growled, crouching beside her. “You’re still here, kid. Just lost your way. Happens to the best of us.”
Vi turned to glare at him, her bloodshot eyes filled with anger and sadness. “She left me, Vander. Just like everyone else. What’s the point of trying to be better if the people you fight for don’t stick around?”
“Maybe she didn’t leave,” Vander said softly. “Maybe she’s just fighting her own battles. Same as you.”
Vi’s shoulders slumped, the fire in her gaze dimming. She hated how right he sounded, even if he was just a figment of her guilt-ridden mind. “Doesn’t make it hurt any less.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Vander admitted. “But you’ve got a choice to make, Vi. You can stay here, drowning in your pain, or you can fight for what you believe in—even if it means letting her go.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and unrelenting. Vi looked back at the horizon, the sun now fully breaking through the smog. For the first time in what felt like ages, she felt a flicker of determination spark in her chest.
Hours later, Caitlyn stood on the Sun Gates, surveying the chaos below as her officers engaged with Zaunite insurgents. Her focus was absolute, her orders precise. Yet, as she reloaded her weapon, a shadow of doubt crept into her mind. What would Vi think of her now? Would she see this as justice, or as another betrayal?
Her moment of hesitation nearly cost her. A Zaunite rebel charged from the side, a blade gleaming in his hand. Caitlyn spun, raising her weapon, but she knew she wouldn’t be fast enough—
A familiar fist slammed into the attacker, sending him sprawling. Caitlyn’s heart stopped as she looked up to see Vi, her knuckles bloody, her hair different, darker, standing there with that same reckless defiance.
“Didn’t think you’d get rid of me that easily, Cupcake,” Vi said, her voice low but tinged with something almost hopeful.
Caitlyn stared at her, her breath caught in her chest. For a moment, the battle around them seemed to fade, and all that remained was the weight of everything unspoken between them.
The noise of the battlefield raged around them—clashing metal, shouting voices, the crackle of explosions—but in that moment, it was all muffled. Caitlyn’s sharp eyes locked onto Vi’s, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, they were just them. Not General Kiramman and an outlaw from Zaun. Just Caitlyn and Vi.
“What are you doing here?” Caitlyn finally managed, her voice laced with a mix of disbelief and anger. “You shouldn’t be involved in this.”
Vi smirked, wiping blood from her knuckles onto her pants. “Someone’s gotta keep you alive, don’t they? You’re welcome, by the way.”
Caitlyn’s jaw clenched, her professional mask slipping back into place. “I don’t need your help, Vi. This isn’t some street brawl. You’re in over your head.”
“And you’re not?” Vi shot back, stepping closer. Her voice dropped, more serious now. “I’ve seen what Jinx can do, Cait. And so do you. I know what you’re up against. You think you’re the only one who cares about this city?”
Caitlyn hesitated. The weight of her position, her decisions, and her fractured relationships pressed against her chest like a vice. “I know that! Jinx has lost her mind. But this isn’t your fight anymore.”
Vi took another step forward, her voice softening. “She’s my sister!…was my sister. Powder is gone. This is all my fault. And I need to fix it. And if you think I’m gonna let you handle this alone, you don’t know me as well as I thought.”
Caitlyn’s lip trembled, but she quickly masked it with a sharp exhale. “Vi, this isn’t the time—”
“I know,” Vi interrupted, her voice firm. “But when is it ever the time, Cait? We’ve been dancing around this for too long. You’re pissed at me for leaving, and I’m pissed at you for... for becoming this version of yourself that I don’t even recognize. For leaving me! But I guess I deserve that. But I’m here now. So stop trying to push me away.”
Caitlyn’s gaze wavered, her grip tightening around her rifle. “You don’t get it,” she said quietly, almost to herself. “You don’t understand what I’ve had to do to keep this city from falling apart. What I’ve had to become. You left me no choice!”
Vi’s expression changed, she reached out, placing a hand on Caitlyn’s shoulder. “I didn’t force you to leave, you chose that!” For a brief second, Caitlyn leaned into the touch despite Vi’s angryness, the weight of her struggles threatening to spill over. But before she could respond, an explosion rocked the bridge, sending both of them stumbling.
“General!” an officer shouted, rushing over. “We’ve secured the west side, but we’ve got reinforcements coming from the undercity. We need your orders!”
Caitlyn straightened immediately, slipping back into her role. She looked at Vi, her expression unreadable, before turning to her officer. “Hold the line. I’ll join you shortly.”
The officer saluted and sprinted off, leaving Caitlyn and Vi standing in the middle of the chaos.
“You should leave,” Caitlyn said, her tone cold again. “This isn’t your battle anymore, Vi.”
Vi shook her head. “And what if it’s not? You think that’s gonna stop me?”
Caitlyn’s eyes flashed with frustration. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“Maybe,” Vi said with a shrug. “But I’d rather die standing next to you than sit on some rooftop, wishing things were different.”
The raw honesty in her words made Caitlyn pause. Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but another explosion drew her attention back to the fight. “I don’t have time for this,” she muttered, turning away.
“Caitlyn.” Vi’s voice stopped her in her tracks. “I’m not leaving. Not this time. And you shouldn’t either.”
Caitlyn didn’t respond. Instead, she tightened her grip on her rifle and marched toward the sound of gunfire. But as she moved, a single tear slipped down her cheek, and she didn’t bother wiping it away.
Later that night, after the dust had settled and the streets were eerily quiet, Caitlyn sat alone in her office. Her uniform was still dirty from the battle, but she didn’t care. Her mind replayed every word, every glance, every moment with Vi.
There was a knock at the window, and she looked up sharply, her hand instinctively reaching for her weapon. But when she saw who it was, her shoulders relaxed.
Vi perched on the fire escape, her expression almost sheepish. “You always leave your window unlocked?” she joked, climbing inside before Caitlyn could say anything.
Caitlyn glared at her but didn’t protest. “What are you doing here?”
Vi leaned against the desk, crossing her arms. “Just checking on you. Making sure you didn’t throw yourself into another fight without backup.”
“I don’t need your pity, Vi.” Caitlyn sighed.
“It’s not pity,” Vi said softly, her tone uncharacteristically serious. “It’s... I don’t know. Something else.”
Caitlyn studied her, the tension between them thick but not unbearable. She sighed, leaning back in her chair. She looked at Vi, who was now awkwardly shifting her weight, clearly unsure of what to say next. For all her bravado, Vi had always been terrible at moments like this—when things required more than fists and sharp words.
"Why are you really here, Vi?" Caitlyn asked, her voice tired. Not angry, not cold—just tired.
Vi hesitated, then pushed off the desk to stand in front of her. "Because... I can’t leave it like this. I can’t leave us like this. I see you everywhere! I feel like I’m going insane, Cait. I can’t lose another thing in my life."
Caitlyn’s heart clenched at the word us. She wanted to snap, to tell Vi there was no “us” anymore. But the truth was, despite everything, that word still carried weight. It still mattered. And that scared her more than anything.
"You think just showing up changes things?" Caitlyn asked, her voice quiet but pointed. "I know what I did was wrong, I regret it every single time I think about it. But you didn’t even try to understand."
Vi flinched as if struck. "You think it was easy for me? Hearing you say the things you said, feeling you as someone who seemed so... untouchable? I didn’t know how to fix it, Cait."
Caitlyn stood, pacing to the window. The view of Piltover at night stretched before her, the lights glittering like stars. "You don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like to carry this city on your back, to be the one everyone looks to when things go wrong. Since my mother died I had to become this person, Vi. For Piltover. For Zaun. For everyone. I thought maybe stepping back was the right call. Clearly, I was wrong.”
"And who’s carrying you, Caitlyn?" Vi’s voice was softer now, a crack running through it. "You’ve been fighting for everyone else, but who’s fighting for you?"
Caitlyn’s shoulders tensed. She didn’t answer right away, her gaze locked on the city below. When she finally turned back to Vi, her expression was unreadable. "I don’t need anyone to fight for me," she said, though her voice lacked conviction.
Vi took a step closer. "That’s a lie, and you know it. You’ve always been strong, Cait, but strength doesn’t mean shutting everyone out. It doesn’t mean carrying everything alone. I’ve learned that the hard way."
Silence hung between them, heavy and fragile.Vi searched for Caitlyn’s face, looking for something—an answer, a reason. What she found was sincerity, raw and unpolished, the kind of vulnerability herself rarely showed.
“You hurt me, Cait.” Vi said finally, her voice trembling. "You left when I needed you most. And I tried to understand, to see what you saw, but you didn’t understand my side. Jinx was everything I had left, and I thought…I hoped that she, that I was going to be able to help her."
Caitlyn nodded, guilt written all over her face. “I know. And I can’t change that. But, you came here for something else, if that means me, I’m here now."
The vulnerability in Caitlyn’s words broke something in Vi. She closed her eyes, exhaling shakily. "I don’t know if I can trust you again so easily," she admitted.
“Then let me earn it," Caitlyn said. "Let me prove to you that I’m not going to turn my back on you this time."
Vi opened her eyes, her gaze meeting Caitlyn’s. There was still pain there, still doubt, but for the first time in a long while, there was also a spark of something else. Something hopeful.
"You’ve got a long way to go," Vi warned, though her tone was softer now.
Caitlyn gave a small, lopsided smile. "I’ve got time."
Vi shook her head, a faint, reluctant smile tugging at her lips.
“You’re impossible." whispered Caitlyn.
"Yeah," Vi said, stepping closer. "But you love that about me."
Caitlyn didn’t reply, but the look in her eyes said enough. They weren’t fixed, not by a long shot. There were still wounds to heal, trust to rebuild. But for the first time in what felt like forever, they weren’t standing on opposite sides.
And that was enough to start.