Work Text:
The painter motions for them to take their places.
Everything is just like they talked about. The chairs are placed, one draped in Kiramman colors, one draped in something warmer. It’s a little weird to have the painter in their bedroom, but the idea of the view being the background is just too good. Vi can barely take her eyes off Caitlyn as she steps to where the man motions. She’s dressed in perfectly tailored navy, done with gold buttons that speak of her uniform without fully giving into it. She’s traded her usual shirt for something more formal and the sight of the old cravat never fails to make heat pool in Vi’s stomach. In her hands is a clunky, ornate rifle. One Vi knows has to be in the picture because it’s in every one of Caitlyn’s portraits. She almost lost her mind trying to capture every gold swirl. Thankfully it’s not her problem at the moment. Caitlyn walks over to the chair draped in warm gold. Vi tugs her own red clothing into place and moves towards the Kiramman draped chair. They are framed as perfect inverses of each other, but something harmonic stretches between them in the color pallets. It’s going to look great. Even though she still stands by the thought this portrait thing is a little much. But if they get it right, they only have to sit for one day really.
So it has to be right.
“Hang on, what’s with the fidgeting,” Vi questions. Bright teal eyes turn just a hair guilty. Guilty enough for Vi to realize not checking was her first mistake, “let me see those kneecaps.”
There’s a tear of fabric.
A lot of stripes, way too much skin and blue clouds.
“I’m Auntie Jinx! Pirate King!” Calliope declares and stabs her hunting knife into the table, “paint me!"
The five year old thrusts out her chest as Caitlyn turns her face away in amusement. It was supposed to be one day. They negotiated for a week, explained the importance, they took her on a tour of all the paintings so she would understand. Vi’s realizing they may have made her understand too well. The blue swirls look correctly placed which is deeply annoying to Vi. It’s not like they can keep all mention of Jinx from her, it’s not like she wants to. But she thought they would have a little bit longer before she decided that Jinx was her idol. No such luck, though. Calliope feels safe so she is fiercely independent. She wants to hunt with anything but a gun—though she’s unnervingly good with one. She first demanded she would be allowed to wear a dress to the painting instead of a suit. That seemed like a fair compromise. But now Vi is kicking herself for not realizing she’s tied several ribbons in her preferred braids to imitate Jinx’s rings. Where she got the black fabric and the striped pants from, Vi has no idea. But Calliope is incredibly resourceful. So Vi makes a note to check for anything missing from her little ballerina jewelry box later. After she cleans up whatever this is.
“Calliope,” she says, “we talked about this.”
“It’s a family portrait,” Calliope says, “Auntie Jinx is not here so I’m making sure she’s represented,” she folds her arms, “she didn’t mean to blow up Grandma.”
“Okay, no,” Vi picks up the discarded dress and looks at the tacked seams. She should have listened to Caitlyn and never taught her to sew, “put it on.”
“No!”
“Calliope, this isn’t a negotiation,” she says, “on,” she orders, holding out the dress.
“Everything’s a negotiation, right mum?” She says turning to the other target.
“Yes, sweetheart,” Caitlyn agrees, “but I’m afraid you’ve lost this one,” Calliope pouts, “come down a bit,” Caitlyn says, taking the dress and helping her into it, “braids and what else?”
“The tattoos!” Calliope says, thrusting out her arm.
“How about one?” Caitlyn counters.
“Three,” Calliope replies.
“Two,” Caitlyn says sticking out her hand. Calliope regards it and then shakes in agreement.
She picks up the edge of the gold fabric before anyone can stop her and wipes off a few of the blue smudges. Caitlyn taps her neck and she wipes off another on her arm. It’s endless negotiations with Calliope, but she holds to her promises. So far. Vi just thanks the Gods every time she has to turn the lock on Calliope’s window to open it. When she figures out how to break it—as every Kiramman heiress apparently has—they are screwed. Calliope looks at the knife she has chosen to be the object she will carry. Caitlyn has said she can change her mind, but Calliope is adamant this is her choice. It’s a simple knife, one nearly identical to the one Vi always has in her pocket. Which she knows is a big reason Calliope insisted on it. She’s still a few years off from getting to carry the knife around herself, but whenever she gets to hold it her fingers always try to imitate how Vi grips it. She un-stabs the table and stands in between them.
“I’m getting this as my first tattoo,” she announces.
“In a few years,” Vi says, “and the neck is negotiable.”
“You got one on your face,” Calliope retorts.
“When I was fourteen,” Vi counters, “you’re a few years off.”
“I’ll do it sooner,” Calliope says, “I’ll get my whole body tattooed by the time I’m fourteen,” she puffs up at the thought, “like you."
“I only got the tattoo because I was in prison,” Vi reminds her, “don’t even start with this house is a prison.”
Calliope screws up her face.
“I’m going to prison!” She announces and then the waterworks start, “I want to go to prison like mom!” She wails loudly, “I wanna be like mom!”
Vi scoops her up and her small arms lock around her neck. Genetically she’s Caitlyn’s but Vi couldn't give less of a shit if she tried. Calliope is hers through and through. But kids suck everywhere sometimes and when it was suggested Vi wasn’t her real mom Calliope had gone ballistic. They had to explain then that Vi was her real mom, but her insides were made from her mum. Calliope understood but it led to a fascination with proving she was as much Vi’s as she was Caitlyn’s. Which was usually kind of adorable, but as she picked up more pieces of her parent’s pasts it sometimes got real dark. Vi argued for no schooling which Caitlyn immediately vetoed. She was going to learn about their pasts sometime and it would be better if they prepared her. Vi hates admitting she had a point, but it’s true. They can’t protect her from everything, much as the urge is there at all times.
“You’re gonna be a great you,” Vi reminds her, rubbing circles against her heaving back. She makes a muffled sound that is suspiciously like ‘prison’ and Vi shakes her head, “you get arrested and we’re gonna bail you right out,” she says.
Caitlyn touches her shoulder and moves her over to the chair they have set up. Vi gives her a grateful look. She managed to dislocate her shoulder during training and even though it’s set back in the joint, it’s the shoulder that sometimes doesn’t like it when it rains. She’s not dropping Calliope for anything, but it’s easier to sit and take the weight off the joint as she heaves and wiggles. The heavy antique gun is placed near the other chair as Caitlyn gently kneads Vi’s shoulder. She lightly touches Calliope’s but Calliope wiggles away and buries her tearful face in Vi’s neck. Vi glances at Caitlyn who smiles reassuringly. Vi has no idea how she does it when Calliope gets like this. The tantrums are always how much she wants to be like Vi. But Caitlyn never takes offense to them. She just has endless sympathy for the struggle their daughter faces.
It amazes Vi that Caitlyn had any worries about being a mum. There were so many nights spent with her confessing her fears. Saying how it felt strange and wrong to watch the baby take over her body. How she didn’t know how to care for herself let alone care for another creature. Of course all of this was said in the home she carved for them. Said to to the person who she saved in more ways than Vi knew how to count. So Vi listened and supported and knew Caitlyn was wrong but not ready to hear it yet. Instead she signed them up for some stupid class that taught you how to handle a baby. She was surprised they made it to the third class before Caitlyn discovered if she knew how to disassemble a rifle blindfolded, she could figure out how to swaddle a squirming infant. There were still lingering doubts though. Right up until Calliope won the first negotiation for a quick entrance into the world. Later, the doctors would explain it had a name: precipitous labor.
But Vi just called it delivering her own daughter.
“I just wanted to make sure your family was here,” she mumbles into Vi’s shoulder.
“Hey you and mum are my family,” she says, “we’re a family. Besides your aunt would have climbed out the window before she sat for something like this.”
“Finished!” The painted says triumphantly.
Vi realizes she never even looked to see if he stopped. He’s been here for the whole tantrum. She doesn’t even want to imagine what is on the canvas. Caitlyn brushes against the back of her neck and walks over. Much to Vi’s surprise, a smile stretches across her face. Shifting Calliope to her hip, Vi gets up and comes over. To her shock, tears immediately flood her eyes at what’s been captured so far.
She’s sitting in the Kiramman chair with Calliope in her lap. Her attention is on the girl whose face is half visible in the crook of her shoulder. But it’s Caitlyn Vi can’t look away from. The love on her face is blinding as she looks at them. Pride is written in the set of her shoulders and the way she stands over them. The heavy, ornate rifle is there but it’s leaned against the chair. If someone were to threaten them she could kill them without a second thought. But killing isn’t her focus. Her focus is on the family she’s created. Calliope shifts her head under Vi’s chin and looks at the portrait.
“Doesn’t mummy look great?” Vi asks. Calliope nods and stretches out her arms. Vi shifts her to Caitlyn’s embrace, “seriously, great job,” she says to the painter.
“Thank you,” Caitlyn says and nudges Calliope.
“Thank you,” she mumbles, tightening her arms around Caitlyn’s neck, “sorry.”
“I’ve painted far worse,” the painter assures her.
Caitlyn excuses herself to go put her down for a nap. Vi makes a note to send the man extra money as she looks at the painting. The light has changed enough that the rest must be done from memory, but she can see most of the details are there. She’s drawn enough from memory to have faith in his work. Especially with the emotion he’s captured. He gives her a nod of acknowledgement as he gathers up his supplies and she shows him out so he can go back to his studio. His assistant who has made herself scarce takes the canvas easily and acknowledges Vi as well before they hurry off. Vi knows it’s going to be weeks before it is fully ready, but she wishes he could finish it right now. She’d really like her old landscape to come down so the portrait of her family can go where it belongs. While it looks like this. Caitlyn greets her at the top of the stairs with a smile and Vi lets the last of her mask fall away.
“That was bad,” she sighs.
“It was fine,” Caitlyn says, gently rubbing her shoulder, “she needs to express these emotions,” she reminds her.
“Yeah,” Vi says, “I hate that she feels this way, you know?” Caitlyn nods, “but you were awesome. Seriously. I don’t know how you don’t get upset,” she chews her lip, “you know she loves you.”
“Of course I do,” Caitlyn gently chides, “I understand,” she says. She looks thoughtful, “my mother never scolded me for being upset our eyes were different shapes. I never understood why—“ she shrugs, “but I know it felt better when she just let me cry.”
Vi nods as they get by Calliope’s room. She’s cried herself into exhaustion as only a five year old can. The small canopy bed by the window still looks big on her. She remembers when Calliope was just a bundle in a cradle by their bed. She doesn’t have nightmares like Vi was expecting when they moved her into this room. She took to it so well. It was Vi who had the nightmares and had to keep checking in on her. But Calliope is happy snuggled with her own Mr. Bunny, oblivious to the worries of the world. The only indication of the day’s anguish is a smudge of blue on her cheek and the ribbons still tied in her braids. She was awful today but some part of Vi is incredibly proud of her big heart. Of how Calliope wants her represented in the portrait. How being a Zaunite is equally important as being a Kiramman. She’s a good kid, despite everything the world has thrown in her short life. A great kid, actually.
“Come,” Caitlyn says, guiding Vi away as Vi realizes she’s turned tearful.
“Shit,” she says, rubbing at her cheeks, “seriously?”
“Oh, darling,” Caitlyn rubs her shoulders with an amused smile that only makes Vi mildly annoyed, “you’ll adjust.”
“And then it’ll get worse,” Vi finishes.
“And then it’ll be over,” Caitlyn counters, “and you’ll forget all about it the moment she’s in your arms.”
Vi sighs, unconvinced. Even though she saw it. Caitlyn didn’t care that she was half naked on the bathroom floor or that she had told Vi to get lost an hour ago. Nothing had mattered except the snuffling bundle in her arms and pulling Vi closer so she could hold their daughter. Vi’s been in enough pain to understand it can be blinding, but she’s never laugh sobbed that way. She can’t imagine it but the hormones are already starting. She’d be confused as shit if she hadn’t sat in the doctor’s office in that stupid paper gown and let them stick tubes in her until they confirmed there was a life growing inside her. Back home girls got knocked up for all sorts of reasons, some didn’t realize until they started to swell. Before Stillwater it had taken one sloppy boy hand on her boob before Vi realized she was really not into anyone who could get her pregnant. And thankfully that had never been forced on her in Stillwater. She never knew if it was because she was in Stillwater through several Wardens or if there was things too distasteful even for them, but it didn’t matter. The life growing inside her is the first permitted to remain. As far as Vi’s concerned that’s all that matters.
“What if they don’t get along?” She asks Caitlyn.
It’s kind of one of her two fears.
And the only thing she has no control over.
“They might not at first,” Caitlyn answers, her voice reassuring, “but they will always be sisters,” she continues, “Calliope will come around in her own time."
“She’ll be a kid,” Vi echos.
That’s the other.
Vi had no time to decide if she liked Powder or not before Powder was heavily dependent on her for survival. Whether or not she liked her was irrelevant because Vi didn’t want anyone to die. Especially not the wailing baby who would only stop crying when she held her. She loved Powder, but now she can see some part of he was determined to love her. Had to love her. Love her like she was her own because in a way she was. Her mom barely got weeks off work before she was limping back so they could eat. Neighbors helped, when they could. But no-one was well off. Powder was strapped to her chest and a bottle was in her hand before Vi understood either of those things. She doesn’t want that for Calliope. She can’t stand the thought of her testing bottles and trying to quiet screams when all she wants to do is cry herself. She loves the fact Calliope only knows about stone soup from the book, not out of necessity. She stirs the pot because she wants to be like mom without understanding the darkness that comes with it.
“She’ll be a kid,” Caitlyn says, dragging her out of the worries, “and she will be a great big sister.”
She’s round and the meltdown’s have eased by the time the painting is delivered and hung up. Round enough that it’s okay to discuss a future one with their newest family member. Calliope takes to drawing in front of the paining, her little face pinched with focus. But she refuses to let anyone see what she’s drawing. She goes a bit quiet and secretive which Vi finds worrying but Caitlyn soothes. Because the hormones make Vi worry and cry about literally everything. To the point where Calliope declares she doesn’t want to ever cry as much as mom. Which only makes Vi cry harder and Caitlyn have to assure both of them that this is just an odd moment at a tumultuous time. Vi can’t even fully remember what she’s crying about when the cramps start unexpectedly. They have to rush to the hospital and the only thing that keeps her together is Caitlyn’s firm hand in her own. They're fine overall but she’s also strictly not allowed to move for a month.
It’s a fucking nightmare.
She’s completely miserable and only kept sane by visits and the tumbling baby inside her. One whose movements grow less as she gets bigger. Which is good, the whole point is that she gets bigger. But Vi hates that she can’t move much. Caitlyn won’t even let her work so all she can do is read and even that is restricted. Like the kid’s going to fall out of her if she reads anything exciting. Which just leaves her with the fairytale book. Not that she’s mad about it, but it’s kind of ironic that she’s supposed to stay calm and that’s the thing that makes her heart beat faster. Caitlyn almost takes it too but even she gets the sense that’s not gonna fly. The fact that Vi gets to read the book to both of their daughters might be the only thing that keeps her going on her worst days. She’s desperate for this to be over and yet when the doctor says they’re going to deliver the baby in the next few days, her heart picks up double-time.
“Darling she’s safe,” Caitlyn reminds her, “you kept her safe. Now she’s coming to meet us,” she looks over her shoulder, worry painted on her face, “Calliope,” she calls, “it’s time to get them.”
Calliope nods firmly and scurries off as Caitlyn helps her take deep breaths. She doesn’t know what they’re talking about. Calliope is a snuggle bug but she’s gotten quieter. And all Vi can do is reassure her that things are alright. Calliope scurries back with a book clenched in her arms and scrambles onto the bed. She looks at Caitlyn who nods firmly and flips open to the first page. It’s an approximation of the portrait, except Vi’s arms are holding two bodies instead of one. Though this one has a pair of comically long red braids to match her sister’s.
“This is us,” she says and flips the page, “then we’re going to get ice,” she says, holding up the picture of two girls with rainbow cups, “and Uncle Ekko’s going to take us flying,” she narrates, showing Ekko holding her and her holding the baby, “and then I’m going to take her to dance class,” she continues, “and we’re going to beat up bullies together.”
Vi laughs wetly at the array of adventures Calliope has drawn for her and her sister. Caitlyn smiles warmly at her and Calliope sighs and flips to the last page where a sketch has been drawn, torn in two and taped back together.
“It’s my first attempt,” she says regretfully, “we’ll have to work on it together.”
“And?” Caitlyn prods.
“I’ll wait until she’s old enough so we can get matching tattoos,” Calliope says.
“These are really something,” Vi says to Calliope, “she’s really lucky to have such a great big sister,” Calliope beams, “here,” Vi hands her the green book and her eyes go wide, “you wanna pick the first one and practice?”
“I know which one already,” Calliope says shoving her drawings aside and flipping straight to the page, “the 12 dancing princesses,” she says firmly.
“That one’s my favorite,” Caitlyn says, squeezing Vi’s hand, “don’t forget you have to show her the pictures.”
Even though she feels better, the baby does not want to come. Her labor starts and stops and stalls until she’s got a needle in her spine and a stupid paper cap on her head. Caitlyn never leaves her side. Not even when she’s being cut open like on of Jericho’s fish and wondering why her body can’t do anything right. Caitlyn soothes her with firm touches as the doctors work behind the curtain. Vi hates being in the hospital on a good day. But now it feels so much worse. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. None of her family did it like this. Not like they’d have coin for a hospital. The miserable thoughts are overwhelming as she looks at Caitlyn.
“I don’t get it,” she whispers, “why?”
“Oh, darling,” Caitlyn caresses her cheek but there’s a perfect smile on her face, “I’m afraid she does want to be like me after all.”
And suddenly everything feels a whole lot better.
Which is how Vi wants to feel when a loud wail splits the air. Caitlyn laughs in excitement and Vi feels her own heart jump as there’s a flurry of movement as indigent wails echo. She nudges Caitlyn who peers over the drape and exchanges hushed words with the doctor. But it’s Caitlyn so whatever the protocol is bends to her will. And when she comes back there’s a snuffling baby in her arms. One with a thatch of dark wet hair and spectacular blue eyes. The color is Jinx but the shape is Caitlyn and the last months cease to exist as she marvels at her. She’s so perfect her head spins and spins. Except then she realizes that’s not just love and Caitlyn’s eyes go wide. The beeping is sharper, more frantic and Vi shakes her head. It takes so much to move her fingers from the baby’s cheek and touch Caitlyn’s arm with force.
“She can’t see this,” she says.
“No,” Caitlyn shakes her head but Vi fights the blackness in her vision.
“They get to be kids,” she reminds her.
Caitlyn chokes out a sob and presses her lips to her forehead. Then she cuddles the baby to her chest and hurries out of the room. Whatever strength is keeping her there ebbs at the knowledge their kids won’t see whatever is about to happen. Whatever happens, they won’t be those two girls on the bridge. It’s all Vi has ever wanted. She doesn’t get a say in whatever happens next, but she can have a say in that. Of all the things Caitlyn gave her, nothing has ever meant as much as the freedom to make her own choices. Someone fits a mask over her mouth and she’s instructed to take a few deep breaths and the world just floats away.
It comes back slowly.
To the sound of Caitlyn’s soothing voice reading from the book. There’s enough beeping for Vi to know they aren’t home. And enough soreness to know she isn’t dead. Which is great, she doesn’t want to be dead. But this isn’t exactly how she planned for this to go. She gets her eyes open to see she’s in the hospital bed. There’s monitors and a nasal canal of oxygen. But the cap is gone from her head and she can feel below her waist. She looks over to the side where Caitlyn is sitting on one of those overly stuffed hospital recliners. She’s got the baby in her arms as Calliope straddles her legs and keeps the book open, turning the pages when Caitlyn nods. Her eyes move between the baby, her mum and then meet Vi’s own. They widen in happy surprise.
“Mom!” She gasps and holds the book as she scrambles off Caitlyn and runs over. Caitlyn is slower with her arms fully of baby but Calliope is gentle as she stops in front of Vi.
“Come here,” Vi says and catches her in a hug, “that was great.”
“I knew you’d be okay,” Calliope says with all the faith in the world, “she’s perfect, everyone says so,” her chest puffs up, “I’ve already fixed the pictures, her hair’s purple.”
It’s hidden now by a little knitted cap but she opens up her bright blue eyes and offers a gummy coo at the sight of her. She reaches out and takes the bundle, not sure how long she’ll be able to hold her for. But Caitlyn slides a pillow underneath her and that time becomes so much longer. Caitlyn seamlessly moves over to Calliope and draws her into an embrace so both of their daughters feel their arms around them. The baby coos and wiggles a bit as Vi touches her stomach and marvels at her button nose and perfect eyes. She can’t believe she made her. All the anger she felt at her body falls away at the perfect thing that coos back at her with perfect almond eyes. They chose to use the same dad and Vi is stupidly grateful. Vi eases a thumb under the cap and her heart feels like it might burst at the thatch of purple hair.
“Hi Clio,” she says softly and Clio babbles at the chosen name.
Later when both girls are asleep she finally gets a moment with Caitlyn. She thinks she’s going to have to coax the emotion out of her but the moment that door closes, Caitlyn bursts into sobs. All Vi has to do is open her arms for her to scramble into the bed and press her ear to her heart. Like the monitors aren’t enough. Vi knows she held it together and she’s really fucking glad she didn’t have to do it for a lifetime. Even being out of commission for the few weeks the doctor has said feels like shit. But it’s a lot bette than the alternative. Caitlyn just sobs and clenches her fist in Vi’s hospital gown. Through muffled fabric Vi can hear her apologizing and tightens her arms around her. Like she didn’t ask Caitlyn to leave. Like Caitlyn didn’t respect Vi's wishes over her own desires. It’s gutting but Vi knows to just let her get it out. Not make her hold in any of the dark thoughts she’s been shoving down for the past day.
“Fill me in,” Vi whispers when Caitlyn quiets.
“It was horrible,” Caitlyn whispers, because they tell each other the truth, “I was just standing with her and you were bleeding out,” she shakes her head in wordless horror.
“What happened next,” Vi murmurs before Caitlyn can get lost in the moment.
“I had to take Clio to get checked out,” she says, “and get her first bottle,” she swallows, “and then Calliope came in—“ she trails off, “Gods, Vi, she was so wonderful,” she says, “everything we were worried about, it was for nothing. She just started reading from your book and Clio quieted. Like she knew she was safe with her.”
Pride bubbles in Vi’s chest as she rubs Caitlyn’s shoulder with her thumb. Caitlyn puts all of the credit on Calliope but Vi knows damn well if Calliope saw her like this she wouldn’t have done it. Caitlyn was horrified but she made it safe for their daughters. That’s what Caitlyn does. She makes it safe for everyone to be their best selves.
“I had them take you to recovery,” she says, “until they were reasonably sure you were alright. Then they brought you here to wait with us.”
“That’s good,” Vi says, “I know it was hard—“
“No,” Caitlyn says and the pain in her voice surprises Vi, “no you have no idea,” she turns her face into Vi’s chest, “I thought you were going to die alone.”
“Hey, I’m okay,” Vi soothes as Caitlyn hiccups, “you got us to the place where I had the best chance,” she says, “I knew I wasn’t alone. But I needed you with them. You know—“
“I know,” Caitlyn says, “but Gods it was hard.”
“I’m here,” Vi repeats and squeezes around Caitlyn’s shoulders, “we’re all here.”
It’s months more before the painter returns but Caitlyn doesn’t want to wait. Surprisingly, neither does Calliope who all but demands the portrait be updated. Vi only just catches her with the stool before she does it herself and nearly sends Caitlyn overboard by hefting both their daughters a bit before she’s supposed to. But everything is fine. She’s just embarrassingly sore in her arms but that can be fixed. It’s worth it to hear Calliope shriek in delight as she hangs upside down over her shoulder while Clio kicks her feet against her swaddle. Of course then the task of keeping the baby quiet presents itself but Calliope appears with the book and her knife. She settles herself in one chair as Vi sits in the other and begins to read. Caitlyn stands between them, the antique rifle braced against her thigh. When Vi looks at the sketch this time, there’s something new in Caitlyn’s eye. This time she stares the painter down, one hand on the chair with Vi and the Clio, one hand on the rifle. At first Vi is confused at Calliope outside of the immediate circle of protection but then it clicks.
She trusts Calliope.
Calliope is her heir.
The pride in her eyes isn’t just for her family as a whole, it’s for the daughter whose going to take over. This painting isn’t just saying there is a family here. It’s saying there is a family here and this legacy will continue. This portrait tells people of their family but, more importantly, it tells them Calliope is next. Any snot nosed kid who comes into their home is going to be facing more than just the antique rifle. They’re going to be insulting a generational dynasty. Calliope doesn’t seem to realize it as she inspects her braids and her face and then nods in approval. Vi is stupidly glad for that, she wants her to be a kid for longer. But she’s also glad to see how seamlessly it fits. How Calliope can come of age in a better way than Caitlyn got to. How it’s not just her tragedy that gets to be left in the past, but Caitlyn’s own that can be moved on from.
“Here,” Vi holds out her own pocket knife, one that folds. Calliope stares at it, wide eyed, “it stays closed if we’re not around.”
Calliope nods frantically and picks up the pocket knife. She holds it out to the painter who nods and quickly works on fixing the one on the table to match. She shoves it into her pocket the moment he nods and stands taller next to Caitlyn. She’s almost as tall as the rifle. Vi marvels at the pair of them. At what they represent. Clio kicks her feet and reminds Vi she represents something incredible too. Vi smiles down at her and wonders how any of this is possible. How doesn’t matter so much because it is. And that’s the only thing she cares about at the moment. It’s real and it’s hers. This incredible family. There’s a hole inside her that will never fully go away, but this family lays nets over it until it’s safe to walk across. This time they all walk the painter over to the door and his assistant takes the new canvas even though some part of Vi wants to hang it up immediately.
She takes one last look.
Which is lucky because the moment the door opens, half of it gets blasted with glitter.
No-one moves for a moment at the sight of the cannon but it’s flipped up immediately as a familiar grin greets all of them. For a moment Vi wonders if she died on that operating table after all. Except then there’s a delighted shriek and Calliope comes flying out of the house and all but tackles her before Caitlyn can grab her back. She throws her arms around Jinx like they are old friends and Vi just tries to wipe the stupid look off her face. Because Jinx doesn’t seem upset at the sight of her. In fact she settles her down and reaches into her satchel to pull out a crayon drawing of the old portrait.
“Guess being a good artist runs in the family,” she says.
“How—“
“Your ankle biter’s been sending these to every depot,” Jinx says, “couldn’t miss those fat hands if I tried,” she glances at the bundle, “figured I’d come by for the kid’s birthday.”
“You don’t know my birthday Auntie Jinx,” Calliope giggles.
“Maybe you can tell me if it’s alright with your parents,” she says.
“Come inside,” Calliope orders and yanks her by the wrist. Vi looks at Caitlyn who doesn’t look thrilled but somehow looks resigned to this turn of events, “mum can she come inside?”
Caitlyn motions her into the parlor and Calliope yanks her aunt inside.
“Thought we’d get a few more years before she put that look on your face,” Vi says. Caitlyn turns red and tugs her jacket down. She does keep the rifle but all things considered, Vi’s kind of glad she does. Vi stares stupidly as Jinx follows Calliope’s tour of the paintings, “so you’re back?”
“No,” Jinx says quickly, “not for long. I’m the Pirate King,” she says, “I got pirating to do.”
“You’re full of shit,” Vi says. Jinx shrugs, her eyes dragging to the bundle and around Vi’s midsection. Her eyes widen as she realizes this one is theirs. She almost hesitates as she looks down at her purple hair and bright blue eyes, “thought they’d change but—“ she shrugs, “kind of glad they didn’t.”
“I’m glad too!” Calliope says, “I wish my eyes were blue like yours.”
“Hey my eyes aren’t blue,” Jinx says bending down and pulling down her eyelid, “they’re violet.”
“Like mom!”
“So walk me through this it’s mom and—“
“Mum,” Calliope says jumping over to Caitlyn, “she told me all about you. How you freed Zaun on your airship with Uncle Ekko and flew off to become the Pirate King. She said it was so brave even though you didn’t have to be. That’s why I want to be like you,” she rambles.
“Yeah? Your mom tell you how I could only do that because she put me in the basement instead of prison?” She asks. Calliope nods, “you know I knew a kid that was braver than both of us,” she says.
“Isha!” Calliope replies and that surprises Jinx to the point of it being visible, “she was the bravest. That’s why my middle name is Isha. Wait here I’ll show you my picture of her!”
She scampers off and leaves the three of them alone with Clio. Jinx swallows and shifts her weight, obviously uncomfortable with the silence. Her eyes drag towards the door but she doesn’t bolt for it. Not that Vi would let her. Instead she clears her throat and scuffs her foot.
“She’s way cooler than anything I thought would come out of you,” she says to Caitlyn, “guess it’s not so bad this one looks even more like you.”
“Can you not insult my wife for five minutes?” Vi questions and Jinx pretends to think about it.
“It’s been at least fifteen.”
Calliope runs down the stairs and shoves the drawing at Jinx of all of them and Isha and Vander. It’s one she’s particularly proud of and insisted on being tacked up on the wall. Vi has a feeling there’s a hole from the pocket knife so she could rip it down, but that’s a conversation for later. It seems kind of hard to yell at a kid about pocket knives when she’s dragged a terrorist into their living room. Jinx grins at the drawing and examines each of them. Vi is shocked she stays longer than fifteen minutes. It’s close to an hour before she gets up and stretches.
“Well, kid, I got pirating to do,” she says. Calliope pouts, “don’t worry, I’m gonna be back for your birthday. In the meantime,” she fiddles with her pouch and Vi half expects her to produce a hex crystal. But instead she pulls out a set of seven rings. She dramatically pours them from one hand to another before holing them out, “gotta do the braids right. We don’t have ribbons down in the Fissures.”
“I’m not allowed to go past the market yet,” Calliope says.
“Oh that doesn’t matter,” Jinx tells her, “you’re Vi’s kid. It’s in your atoms,” she says, working the rings up her braids, “there,” she says, “one for every year we’ve been apart. Just like I did with your mom.”
Vi swallows against the tightness in her throat.
“I’ll get you something better next year.”
“These are perfect,” she sighs happily and hugs Jinx tightly, “thank you auntie. I wanna be just like you.”
Jinx laughs.
“Tell you a secret kid, I wanna be just like your mom.”
“Me too,” Calliope says.
Jinx winks.
And then she’s gone again and Vi has no idea what to make of this turn of events. But Calliope needs to re-hang her drawing and Clio needs to be fed. And Jinx is alive, Vi has seen it with her own two eyes. She didn’t come back for her like Vi was maybe hoping she would. She came back for Calliope. Because Calliope copied her drawing endlessly and send it out without either of them knowing. Because she gets to be a kid and somehow also found a way to take care of her family. She just healed something in Vi and goes down for her nap with only one protest of being a big kid now. Seven years is a long time. But it’s not a lifetime. It’s something. Vi still feels dazed when Clio is settled for her nap. She finds Caitlyn parked by the door and yeah, it’s completely fair that the antique rifle has been traded for a more modern one. Vi has a feeling that thing is going to be in their bed tonight. But she pulls up a chair and sits next to Caitlyn all the same.
“How the hell—“
“I have no idea,” Caitlyn says, “she must have slipped them into the school’s outgoing mail,” she purses her lips, “Vi, I don’t like what just happened.”
“Hey, me neither,” Vi says quickly, grasping her hand, “she doesn’t go past the living room,” Vi swears. Caitlyn hesitates a moment before she nods and relaxes slightly, “thanks for letting her in that far,” she says, “I’m gonna make it up to you.”
“Vi—“
“I’ve been thinking Clio should go by her middle name,” she says, “I know Clio fits with the theme,” she says, “but she kind of looks like a Cassie.”
Caitlyn stiffens slightly and looks surprised. They agreed no dead parent first names. That was too much to put on any kid. But middle names seemed okay. Isha brought them back together in a convoluted way. But it seemed right to honor her. And somewhere in her frustrated annoyance and ranting about the day Calliope figured out how to bust the lock on her window—like all Kiramman heiresses did—Vi settled on the middle name Cassandra for Clio. Because only Cassandra Kiramman could understand the gut punch of a thought of her daughter sneaking in the busted window. And if Vi was having the thoughts, the baby was having them too. Caitlyn’s family is full of names like Cassandra, Caitlyn, there’s even been a Calliope many generations back. They couldn’t not have a Cassandra in there somewhere.
“That’s not necessary,” Caitlyn begins.
“I know,” Vi says, “but she gave me this look the other day when I was changing her and I swear it was the same one your mom gave you.”
Caitlyn clears her throat and glances over.
“She’s given it to me too,” she says.
Vi grins.
“So Calliope and Cass,” she says, “taking on the world.”
“With their matching neck tattoos.”
“Hey we said necks are negotiable,” Vi says, “maybe they’ll get their backs.”
“As long as it’s not their faces,” Caitlyn says, “maybe they’ll rebel by not getting tattoos."
“Oh there’s definitely gonna be tattoos,” Vi says, “let’s just make sure they go somewhere good,” she slings an arm around her wife’s shoulders, “maybe if we tell them we want it on their faces they’ll pick a different spot.”
Calliope barely makes it to sixteen before she’s inked with the crossed Kiramman keys.
Cass screams until she’s blue in the face and demands an endless supply of stick ons until she sneaks out at fourteen.
Vi figures it’s actually kind of cool before she gets it.
Vander is thirteen when the adoption goes through so they’re already off book on that one.
The real surprise is when Caitlyn sits herself in the chair and makes Vi hum to her the entire time even though it can’t hurt as bad as half the shit she’s been through.
If it’s weird to have a family tattoo, Vi doesn’t want to be normal. It’s funny how it doesn’t even feel necessary. This is their family. They don’t need anything to tell the world that because the world doesn’t fucking matter. Except it still makes Vi’s eyes wet when Jinx shows up with it already partially faded from time in the sun. And Ekko says he doesn’t look behind his ear much anyway but then privately admits the three kids begged so much he couldn’t say no. It was a family thing and he was family. If you had told Vi one day she’d have a matching tattoo with her entire family, she would have laughed her ass off. But, then again, she never would have thought she’d have a family with a hereditary crest. The days when it feels too fancy are so far between now, she barely remembers when the last one was.
This is her family.
That’s all that matters.