Chapter Text
Viktor scoffs, “May I speak to Jayce Talis please? I am getting sick of this Man of Progress act.”
Jayce looks taken aback, “I'm not acting, Viktor”
“Yet you are the greatest act this city has ever seen”, Viktor says pointedly. “We are scientists. Not Politicians. Years ago you stood up to the council to defend your vision. Now we bend over backwards to give the council whatever they want. Which now includes you, yourself!”
Viktor pokes a pencil in Jayce's direction. “Will I now have to fight you to progress your own projects?”
“Of course not, my job is to make sure Hextech doesn't fall into the wrong hands. Nothing else. I won't let the council bully me” Jayce says.
“You already did. You completely changed the plan today.” Viktor says, turning back to the checklist on the desk. He, Jayce, and Sky are doing another full inventory of the lab equipment to account for anything else stolen last night and Viktor is in a mood.
Politics are unfortunately deeply ingrained with their work, and it's not a job Viktor envies. On an average day, he would not criticize Jayce for the persona he has put on for the country and the council. But yesterday they had one of their greatest achievements stolen, Jayce left him standing confused backstage like an idiot, and his body fucking hurts.
“I know, and I'm sorry. We'll announce our new projects when this mess is over. It’s just…” Jayce pauses, “Not the right time.”
“The theft is irrelevant, It will never be the right time for these people.”, Viktor says venomously.
Viktor takes a breath and reminds himself that Jayce is not the enemy here. “The council is only interested in increasing Piltover's wealth. What about the people we wanted to help? The people I want to help. The Undercity.”
“I want to help them too” Jayce says assuringly.
“Not like I do”, Viktor says.
-
Viktor comes to Jayce's house that night wearing some of his old clothes from home. Nobody answers on the first knock, or the second. Viktor does not try a third time. In times like these, (increasingly stressful and frustrating, that is), his partner spends all his free time either at the lab or the forge. A true craftsman at heart, Viktor thinks as he rounds the building and listens for the faint clanging of metal. He’s not quite sure what Councilor Medarda’s goal is with putting Jayce on the Council. Viktor has spent very little time with her, but enough to know that Mel Medarda plays politics with a level of skill that puts every other councilor to shame.
Viktor would have nothing but the highest respect for her if Jayce was not her current target.
Jayce does not hear him enter the forge, too busy hammering out some white hot piece of metal. Viktor takes a moment to selfishly admire Jayce's back muscles flex with each strike. He could not blame anyone for being enamored with the man. Unfortunately, Jayce was his first, and he will not let him go so easily.
Viktor raps loudly on the doorframe and shouts above the noise, “Jayce!”.
Jayce rests his hammer on the anvil and looks over his shoulder. His eyebrows are drawn tightly together, but they relax when he sees who called for him. Whatever it is he’s working on gets cooled off and Jayce reaches for a towel to wipe the sweat off his face.
Away from the heat of the forge, he asks Viktor, “Are you heading to the Undercity?”
“Both of us are.”, Viktor says, “We’re taking a field trip. So, if you aren't too busy, put a shirt on so we can get going.”
Jayce rubs at his jaw, “I don't know. Is that the best idea right now?”
“Yes”, Vitkor says matter of factly.
Viktor walks to the door connecting the forge to the main house and is satisfied when Jayce follows. He waits briefly in an expensively decorated living room for Jayce to get cleaned up and put on what will no doubt be an entirely too conspicuous outfit. Once he arrives back downstairs in exactly that, they head out.
They don't speak to each other as they walk. Jayce probably thinks Viktor is still mad about earlier. He would be right. But, truthfully Viktor is just lost in thought, trying to remember a path he hasn't walked in years.
It's Jayce that finally breaks the silence. “What are we doing here, Viktor?”, he asks quietly as they step onto a rickety trolley heading deeper into the Undercity.
Viktor tries to think of how to explain his half-cooked plan. He hadn't really given it much thought before he'd stormed out of his apartment earlier. “The image the Council likes to paint of the Undercity is not the city I know. It is rough around the edges, and the conditions are not good, but this war they fear is ridiculous. And it is certainly not a good use of our time or our focus”
He shifts them further into the less populated side of the trolley. There are only a handful of other people, and no one looks like a threat, but they don’t need to be spreading whispers of war from above. “I also think we've been aiming too high. The Atlas Gauntlets and the Hex Claw are all well and good, but how can an average miner afford either? The foremen certainly aren't paying for it. Now that we have a stable gemstone, we should be thinking about how it can be applied to help the most people.”
Viktor feels mildly embarrassed to have to admit his true intentions, but he admits, “My plan is to kill two birds with one stone. Remind you that my people are not the phantom threat the council wants you to believe, and, eh, crowdsource some ideas”
Jayce nods slowly, “Okay. So, where are we going?”
“First the harbor, then I wanted to visit the fissures. There's an old family friend that I think shares our passions. And I want to check in on some other things.” Viktor says.
“Alright, then”, Jayce says, “I’ll follow your lead.”
-
At the harbor Jayce successfully charms handfuls of dockworkers and boatmen to speak with them about possible applications of Hextech. Viktor moderates so he doesn't say anything that offends too deeply and gets them into trouble. It goes better than he expected, because they are invited to sit down at a dive bar for a few drinks.
It doesn’t take long for most of the workers to tire of science talk and disperse. When it’s clear the conversations are no longer going to be productive, Viktor convinces Jayce to try the shitty beer of his youth. He watches with an amused smile on his face as Jayce coughs and winces at the rotten stuff. “It's not meant to be good”, Vitkor tells him, “It's meant to get you drunk as cheaply as possible.”
“I’ll take a shitty wine over this any day”, Jayce says.
Viktor chuckles, “I have seen you wine-drunk enough to know that is a bad idea.”
Jayce shakes his head and grins, “Trust me, you have not seen me drunk. Tipsy maybe, but drunk? No, that's a whole other monster.”
“A Sad, mopey monster?” Viktor teases.
“Yes, a very sad and mopey monster who is going to talk about magic for hours and scare away investors.” Jayce says while resting his cheek on his hand.
Viktor wishes he was as free with touch as Jayce in these moments. He knows Jayce would let him comb his finger through that black hair. He is sure he would be allowed to cradle Jayce’s face for a soft, warm moment. Instead, Viktor just meets his gaze and holds it as gently as he would hold the man himself.
They talk to a few more people at the bar, finish their drinks, and leave before long. Viktor checks his watch. They should have enough time for one more stop.
-
As they go deeper into the fissures, the air grows thicker with smog and Jayce begins to cough terribly. Viktor speaks under his breath to him, “Stop coughing like you've never been here before”
“What-” Jayce coughs again. “Why?”, is all he manages to get out on the second try.
“You cough like you have healthy lungs. It stands out. Put more hack into it or something”, Viktor says.
Jayce just shakes his head and makes a valiant attempt that would fool nobody. It is okay, Viktor supposes, that he is such a lousy liar. He sighs and pulls a bandana from his pocket, handing it over to Jayce. There was really only so much blending in the man could do. No need to torture him.
“Thank you”, Jayce says as he gets his breathing under control. “Now, where are we going?”
“Dr. Pal Polly, my old doctor. Her family is quite well off if I remember right, but she chose to continue doing medicine in the fissures.”
“Did she study medicine in Piltover?”, Jayce asks.
Viktor hums, “Mm, I'm not sure. With her family’s status it’s possible, but it's more likely she learned here in the Undercity. Obviously, we have no formal academy for medicine, but there are enough skilled doctors to learn from.”
They come up on a small, one story clinic built from an old house and knock per the sign on the door. A shout comes from inside for them to enter, and once inside, a large middle-aged woman sits with her back to them as she studies something under a microscope across the room.
“I'll be just a second” Dr. Polly says.
They wait patiently as she goes back and forth between notes and the microscope. Viktor sees a glimpse of multiple half-finished diagrams of something. Possibly mapping the changes in reaction to whatever it is she is experimenting with?
When she's done, Dr. Polly spins her chair around to face them. “Welcome to the clinic, I'm Dr. Pal Polly, but you can just call me Pal if you like”.
She must not remember him, Viktor thinks. but then she stares at Viktor for a moment too long and asks, “Sorry, do I know you? Who’s your parents? I feel like I know your face.”
Viktor gives a small smile, “I am Jakub and Eva’s son, Viktor. You treated me a long time ago.”
“Ah” Dr. Polly says with a sad smile, “Yes, you are”
Her eyes scan over him. Viktor does not want her pity, so he quickly introduces Jayce and explains their purpose before she can say anything about his health or family. Dr. Polly’s eyes brighten with curiosity. As they speak, Viktor lets Jayce take the wheel. He is not worried about Dr. Polly taking offense to any of Jayce's more oblivious questions like at the docks.
Her clinic is more cramped than he remembers. Various equipment and machines dot the room on tables, shelves, and taking up corners if they are large enough. A bit specialized for a general practitioner, Viktor thinks. He shudders to think of how much it would cost to replace all of it in the event of a robbery.
The chairs are the same as before, though. They line the wall next to her “office” door, which Viktor knows is more of a supply closet than anything else. He gratefully takes a seat and watches Jayce inspect a machine that Viktor remembers as some kind of heart monitor.
Viktor thinks of the pulse of hextech. How it almost seems to have a life of its own.
“I wonder” He says when there is a lull in conversation, “About the ability of the runes to do analysis. Can it be used to process information about a subject?”
Jayce’s brows scrunch in contemplation. “It’s possible. But even if it can, we would need a way to translate the information.”
“True. I believe a simple-” Viktor is cut off by a cough. “Ah- excuse me-”, to his frustration the cough persists and he is forced to turn away with his hand to his mouth.
Jayce’s hand finds his shoulder. Viktor does not check if there was blood this time, simply wipes his hand off on his pants and hopes there is none.
Dr. Polly gives him a concerned look and grabs a stethoscope. “Can I listen to your lungs?” she asks with a sharp focus in her eyes.
Viktor waves her off, “Please, don't worry about me. As I was trying to say-”
She interrupts him, “You and I both know what that cough sounds like, Viktor. Have you seen a doctor about this?”
It sounds like Grey Lung, is what she means. What his father died from. What Viktor has spent the last few months ignoring the signs of.
With a great amount of hesitance, Viktor admits, “No.”
Dr. Polly’s face tightens, “Well, let me check you out while you're here. Free of charge, I promise.”
“You have been looking a little rough lately, V”, Jayce adds gently.
Viktor purses his lips and does not look at Jayce. Coming back here was a bad idea. Viktor blames the calming circles being rubbed into his back for why he nods and lets Dr. Polly set him up on the examination table.
Viktor tries his best to ignore the worry on Dr. Polly’s face as she checks vitals and takes a blood sample. His father would have been treated by her all the way up until his death. Did máma sit there like Jayce did now? No, she knew the weight of the illness from day one. Jayce looks nervous, yes, but he still has his optimism and hope. Will Jayce lose himself like her when Viktor is gone? Oh, he would be putty in Councillor Medarda's hands, then. Viktor will have to make sure that doesn't happen.
Dr. Polly returns from her work table where she's done something with Viktor’s blood sample that goes over his head. She stands in front of him with, no doubt, a rehearsed apology on the tip of her tongue. Viktor does not want it.
“I'm dying”, Viktor says to her before she can speak. It is a statement, not a question.
Jayce’s chair shifts like he's been startled, but Dr. Polly remains unfazed, “We can't know until I get the blood results, but I do think it's Grey Lung. I'm sorry, Viktor.”
“But that's treatable right?” Jayce asks. He looks bewildered. “Money's not an issue. We can get the best doctor's on this, no problem.”
“You could get a second opinion, and if you really do have the money I would advise you to, but-” Dr. Polly pauses. “Honestly? I've talked to a lot of topside doctors in my research, and most don't even know how to diagnose this, let alone treat it.”
“It’s that rare?” Jayce asks.
Viktor laughs humorlessly, “Not at all. What do you think living among these gases does to people? I told you already, healthy lungs stand out here.”
Jayce’s jaw clenches and Viktor kicks himself for causing that angry look.
“Okay, not rare. Then how would you treat this?” Jayce asks.
Dr. Polly perks up a bit, “Well, I have some experimental treatments which you might consider.”
She rolls over to a locked cabinet and retrieves something. In her hands is a bottle of pink tablets and a vile full of clear purple liquid that looks like-
Viktor's eyes dart back up to her accusingly, “You're giving your patients shimmer?”
“A very small dosage” She says gently and far too knowingly, “I've been treating people this way for 5 years. In the ones who weren't already users, they showed no signs of increased dependency on the drug and the usual psychedelic effects of shimmer are negligible if present at all. That being said, it's not a cure. It extends the patient's life a few years at least, but I've never tested it on anyone who wasn't getting continued exposure to the fissure gases. Maybe it will be more effective for you.”
Viktor wants to tell her, no. He will take his chances elsewhere. But Jayce speaks first.
“Viktor”, he says. Just his name said with hope. Damn that man.
“It could hurt your reputation, your partner using shimmer as medicine.” Viktor says in a last ditch effort to cling to pessimism.
“We're scientists. Not politicians”, Jayce says. “Forget my reputation. If this disease is really that serious-”
Jayce takes an unsteady breath. “I won't lose you”, he says with determination, “I can’t.”
Viktor can't help the ghost of a smile that creeps onto his lips. He ducks his head for a moment. There is no guarantee that Dr. Polly’s medicine cures him. But a few more years mean more time to mold hextech into a force for good. A few more years and his legacy may be more than some background character in Piltover's gilded history. And maybe he'll get a good night's sleep for once.
“Okay”, Viktor says, “Let's try it.”