Chapter Text
Viktor had all but given up on actual medical treatments at this point. Not medicine completely, oh no. He still wore his leg brace, every day, and still tightened his back brace, every day, lest he’d be crippled on the floor in agonizing, miserable pain. He still took pills every morning with a sip of lukewarm coffee that promised to dull the ache in his bones yet he swore he felt no different when he forgot to take them. He still took his breathing treatments to open his lungs and wrest free the clots that had taken root deep within.
If asked to clarify, he would likely go on a tangent to state something about giving up on ‘medical treatments to cure and actually, well, treat his illnesses’. It wasn’t really about alleviating his symptoms, but more…fixing the root cause. His defects were mostly congenital, with an unfortunate mixing of toxic smog rotting at his lungs. There was nothing that could reverse either of those things. He was born damaged, and sustained further destruction out of his control thanks to the very grounds he walked upon. It was just a fact of life. No amount of ‘fixing’ could be done to fix this mess.
And he was fine with that.
Until, well, Jayce handed him a pamphlet from a clinic on the academy grounds looking for participants in a clinical trial.
“What is this?” Viktor wrought himself away from the shimmering hexcore to take hold of the folded paper. He pulled his goggles off to actually see what he was reading. Pretty plain, black text on white, with a printed picture of a pair of lungs.
“I happened to catch one of the other professors speaking in a seminar on the way here.” Jayce began. It was then that Viktor noticed how breathless he sounded. Did he sprint up here? Well, he was already pretty late. Late for him, at least.
“He was speaking outside?”
“Yeah. He was, uh, trying to get people’s attention. Something about needing participants for a clinical trial, I think it said?”
Oh boy. Viktor’s eyes narrowed, lightly tapping the closed pamphlet against his free hand. “Participants.”
“Mm.” Jayce nodded. He took the chance to shed his jacket, tossing it on the back of his chair and practically falling in it. Both of his massive hands fell to rest on his knees as he leaned forward closer to Viktor. “He was on, well, I don’t know, I’m not a biologist. But a pretty far phase for a clinical trial, he said. Almost ready to go on the market. Each phase has been approved by the Council too, looks like.”
Viktor tossed the pamphlet on the desk. Jayce scrambled, grabbing it.
“You still haven’t told me what this is, or why you’re even bothering to tell me.” Viktor drawled. “Unless you decided you wanted to take up yet another degree, this time in biology.”
“No, no.” Jayce shook his head. He flipped open the pamphlet, turning it around to show Viktor the diagrams and explanations hidden within. He pointed with his index finger as he spoke. “Viktor, this guy’s been working on a treatment for the gases from the fissures. All of his participants had the same symptoms you did. The coughing, the wheezing, the bloody sputum. He’s been putting them on some sort of medication and they’re feeling better! One lady had a life expectancy of just two months and its been--”
Victims of the Grey
Viktor swatted the pamphlet out of Jayce’s hands. The words jumped out at him. Slithered down his throat and tightened around his lungs. Shit. It’s been years since he’d heard those words. Or, well, read them. That’s what this doctor was working on? In Piltover? What the hell?
Unfortunately, Jayce got the wrong message, and winced, recoiling back and letting the pamphlet flutter to the ground. He stared at it. “...sorry. I, uh, probably should’ve worded that last part better. I’m sorry, Viktor.”
Viktor grunted, turning away from Jayce, looking back at the research notes he had been working on. Shit, where had he been? Now his concentration was off. He couldn’t get those words and that image of the lungs out of his mind. There was an actual physician working on treatment for the Grey? They were actually acknowledging its existence? He didn’t think Piltover had the balls to do it. Maybe the Council was only approving it to save face.
“I just think maybe it’s worth at least talking with that doctor.” Jayce sighed. He bent down, picking up the pamphlet and tossing it on the desk, away from Viktor. “Sorry. I know I shouldn’t be butting into your business like that. I just, well…I couldn’t help but stop to listen when I heard about…”
“That’s enough, Jayce.” Viktor interrupted. He picked up his pen, making an attempt to resume his work from earlier. This time, however, he certainly seemed a fair bit distracted, simply tapping the tip against the page. “I appreciate your concern, but as I’ve told you in the past, I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”
“I know, Viktor. Trust me, I like to think I know more than anyone how strong you are. And I know you’re tired of going to doctors. But…maybe try talking to him? See if it's worth your time? If not, you can come back up here to yell at me.”
At that, Viktor chuckled, shaking his head.
“Is that how you plan on getting me to agree?”
“With you, I’ll do what I have to do. You’re my partner, Viktor.”
There it was. Jayce’s stupid affections and stupid words and stupid feelings and Viktor knew he had no hopes of defending himself. He exhaled, hanging his head, and let his pen rest in the binding of his notebook. Shit.
“...you know I’ve been to plenty of doctors in my life that told me my case was hopeless?” Viktor mumbled. “What makes you believe this to be any different?”
“He had his patients there for a panel. Open for questions and everything. They, uh, they said he gave them the right to breathe again.”
Viktor lifted his head to stare at him.
==
The office was set up just like the rest of the academy. Clean. Tall walls. Polished stone floors. A heavy desk quite similar to the one in the lab. Were things put in a different position Viktor could almost picture himself actually in his lab versus waltzing up to a doctor’s office. Actually, he recalled being here a few times when he was still Heimerdinger’s assistant to go and check to see how progress was coming along on vaccines for public use. That physician seemed charitable enough at the time.
Of course, Jayce had alerted the physician he was coming ahead of time. Likely after the seminar. Because, of course, Jayce had known he would be able to twist his arm. Charismatic, lucky bastard.
“Doctor.”
“Ah! Professor. Good to see you, good to see you. Thank you for coming.” The doctor stood up from behind his desk, rounding around to greet him. He extended a hand, to which Viktor awkwardly shook.
“Viktor is fine. There is no need for formalities.”
“Of course. The Councilor was telling me quite a bit about you.”
“I assume he was.” Viktor couldn’t help the low grumble that spilled out.
“Please, come, sit. I promise I won’t take up too much of your time.”
Deciding that he was here already, Viktor complied, hobbling over to the hardwood chair and lowering himself down. The doctor poured them both a glass of tea. Viktor hesitated before accepting, blowing on it carefully.
Thankfully, the physician seemed similar to Viktor in that he didn’t want to waste anyone’s time. He sat down across from him, reading off of a clipboard, and giving him a summarized version of his seminar that Jayce happened to overhear earlier.
“...I assume I don’t have to explain the Grey to you, Viktor.”
“No.”
“Very well. We’ve seen not only Zaunites afflicted with the Grey’s poison, but men and women who’ve lived in Piltover their whole lives, who happened to be updraft of the fissures. The Grey rose. Unfortunate souls living on the edge or near the vents were forced to breathe it in just as much as Zaun.”
“Doctor, I really don’t care for a history lesson. One for an event that was indeed present for.”
“I only wished to explain to you why I’m doing what I’m doing. It was majority Zaun affected, but some of Piltover as well. No one has provided our citizens with adequate support even after proper ventilation was provided. So, in the past five years, I began a study. One that will allow citizens both topside and below the opportunity to breathe. I’m sure, considering your condition, you’d want a chance to…provide assistance to your fellow countrymen?”
Viktor sniffed with narrowed eyes.
The physician smiled.
“You have end stage Grey poisoning, correct?”
“Yes.”
“I propose, instead of simply…waiting for it to consume you, rushing to finish your research before that day comes, you…try one last thing. Give it a shot. What else do you have to lose?”
“Dying with dignity, for one thing?” Viktor drawled, his accent thick.
The physician chuckled. “Of course. I understand the hesitance, but I promise you, no, swear to you, that I have come up with a treatment regime that provides results. I’m sure you’ve been to many, many other physicians in the past decades, and I’m sure you also know the practice of medicine is constantly changing.”
He reached over, handing Viktor a folder. The man accepted it, beginning to thumb through it.
“This is a copy of my published paper on the matter. I’ve included testimonies from many of my patients, who’s quality of life has improved by 86%, pulmonary function increased by 58%, and are no longer actively debilitated. The treatment includes a steroid infusion, oral therapy daily, and weekly follow ups--”
“You seem quite determined to add me to your little…roster.” Viktor hummed. He didn’t look up, too busy flipping through the pages, quickly reading the numbers and charts and skimming over passages. “You came prepared knowing that I would be a tough sell.”
“I did.”
“I’m sure it has nothing to do with my history nor placement in the academy?” Viktor’s eyes snapped up to the doctor’s face.
He smiled weakly.
Viktor sighed, closing the file. “I knew it--”
“Hold on--” the man stood up, extending a hand out to stop him. “I mean…yes, I won’t lie, having someone like you on our clinical trial would look very, very good. Both for our statistics, due to our lack of Zaunite participants, but also that a famed academic trusts us enough with his health.”
Viktor stared, unblinking.
“You don’t have much more time, do you, Viktor? You’re tired. You’re working on Hextech, making great strides with it, in fact. But your illness is getting worse. It’s harder to walk. Harder to catch your breath. Harder to live your life. I want you to continue your progress on Hextech. You’re an intelligent man, one that, as a fellow man of science, would hate to lose so early. I’ve seen results with my clinical trial. If this can offer a pain free opportunity to recover…then why not try it?”
“You’re confident in your results, doctor.” Viktor replied. He tossed the file on the small coffee table, next to the cold tea.
“Numbers do not lie.”
“I’ve been through enough treatments in my life. Tell me,” Viktor leaned forward, cane resting in his lap, “is it truly pain free? Are there no side effects to your drugs?”
There was a moment where silence hung in the air. Then the physician moved, taking the packet from the table, and flipped to a page. He placed it back on the table for Viktor to read.
“There have been reports of increased appetite due to the body requiring more resources to repair the damage and begin recovering. We’ve encouraged our patients to listen to their body’s needs during this period of recovery.”
Viktor gazed down at the sheet. Sure enough, it listed off patient’s reports, week by week. Almost every single one reported increased hunger and appetite. Some reported subsequent weight gain. Made sense.
“I don’t think that would be a terrible thing.” Viktor mumbled, looking down at himself briefly. His clothes had begun to hang off of him, he noticed. Hip bones practically jutted out. Arms so terribly thin, ribs able to be counted. He wasn’t trying to lose weight. It was just…hard to eat when most medications to make him not hate his existence made him feel nauseous.
Unfortunately, Viktor found himself agreeing with the doctor’s arguments. Dammit. Man of science or some bullshit. He had some damn good points. Frankly, Viktor was tired, and he was, unwillingly, becoming a desperate man. Whether that was evident on his face or not remained to be seen. If what this man said was true, then perhaps…
With a sigh, he forced himself to his feet, and extended a hand out to the doctor once more.
“I will comply to your clinical trial, but you will also comply by my rules. Is that clear, doctor? I will not be a mere specimen for you to poke and prod.”
The doctor practically beamed, shaking his hand eagerly.
“Yes, yes of course, Viktor! Come, this way! Let’s get started right away!”
==
The first day was brutal. The infusion itself took five hours, with a breathing treatment before and after. He was left violently retching the rest of the afternoon in a basin from a nausea that seemed far, far worse than anything he had ever experienced. Had the physician not warned him that that first day was always horrendous he would’ve walked out that door right then and there and not looked back.
Although, he did want to laugh, as he hunched over the toilet late at night, spitting up for the tenth time. Increased hunger, huh? He’d like to see that appetite stimulant now, please and thank you.
For the next few days, the doctor dropped off prescriptions for Viktor to take, to which Jayce was happy to fill at the pharmacy on the academy grounds to save him a few steps. One was (thankfully) an anti-nausea medication. Another was a nebulizer to allow him to do the breathing treatments at home, to save a trip and not go to the office. Also convenient, but, well, he really didn’t go home as often as he should, so he had to think about how to use it. Could just add it to his breathing treatment pile of “oh yeah I should probably use that that’ll help me to breathe this morning.”
The third and final medication was the experimental drug that was the root of this clinical trial in and of itself. Jayce handed him a large bottle. The pills were huge. Instructions were simple: Take one tablet by mouth two times a day. After a week, increase to two tablets by mouth two times a day. Drink with a full glass of water. Take with meals.
“Disgusting.” Viktor grumbled.
“Well, uh, at least it’ll be easy to remember those big pills.” Jayce tried to offer with a lopsided, weak smile, yet was immediately silenced with a sharp glare from Viktor.
It really wasn’t hard to integrate the pills into his schedule. He had a handful he took every morning just to stay functional. What was one more giant tablet to add to the mix? Drained down with a glass of water and possibly a cracker or a piece of bread if he was lucky, if only to prevent him from seeing the medication again.
He was to report back to the office every week. This first visit would fall the day before he would start taking two tablets twice a day. That visit was…fairly uneventful. Labs were taken and he breathed into a machine. Results showed little deviation from his initial visit, which wasn’t a surprise to either of them. It was only a week, after all. Thankfully he didn’t have to get another damn infusion just yet. Possibly in a few weeks if he needed another boost of the therapy, the physician warned, to Viktor’s (sarcastic) delight.
==
That second week, Viktor felt…a change. He hadn’t realized it at the time, but when looking back, he would say this had been the turning point. The day itself was fairly inconsequential. Another day in the lab. Toiling away at working on the hexcore and expanding its practical uses. Mixing together different runes to get different results. Waiting for Jayce to arrive from another boring meeting. The usual.
His breakfast, if you could even call it that, was a few bites of a biscuit with his morning medications. Dry, unappealing, probably stale. No, definitely stale. Normally that would be enough to hold him over until…well, the end of the day. He didn’t really feel hunger, anymore.
Around 1:15, twenty minutes before Jayce would return back, something strange happened. Viktor was drawn out of his equation by the sound and feel of his stomach growling. A deep, vicious pang of hunger. One that made him blink and lean back. He almost didn’t recognize that sensation. He was…hungry?
A shake of his head, grumbling under his breath, attempting to return to work. Attempt was the key word. Once his pencil touched the paper it happened again. Deep, rumbling within his abdomen, demanding attention. Focus was torn away from the equations and theoretical numbers in front of him. Like a fog was placed over him.
“What?”
Viktor was starving.
He couldn’t function like this. This wasn't like the chronic pain he lived with. This was…a gnawing hunger deep, deep in his stomach. Was this how it normally was for people? He couldn't remember the last time he actually felt hungry . And he couldn't stand it. Perhaps since it had been so long it felt that much more potent.
Grunting, Viktor stood up, tucking his cane under his arm. Jayce would be back soon. Usually after a Council meeting the man was starved, empty of his resources. They could go to lunch. But he really didn’t want to wait that long. He knew Jayce was also a creature of habit. The man couldn't help nibbling on salty snacks when he needed a boost or was in the midst of a creative moment. He knew better than to leave them lying around. They were here, though. If Viktor remembered right…
The second drawer of Jayce's desk he found a bag of roasted peanuts. He couldn’t help but laugh in victory. Of course it was here. Jayce never failed him. Perhaps the protein and the salt content would be able to curb this gnawing hunger biting at him for the time being.
Ah, whatever.
Viktor didn’t waste anymore time, ripping the bag open and tossing a few in his mouth. What used to absolutely be a texture issue, unsatisfying and gritty in his mouth, tasted heavenly. Salty and savory and perfectly crunchy. Was it the brand or the way they were roasted? What changed?
He decided then that he didn’t really care to determine the how or the why, and instead, the food was pretty damn good, and needed to be consumed immediately. One hand held the clear plastic bag, popping a few in his mouth at a time, while the other released the handle on the crutch and began looking through the rest of the drawer in anticipation. What else was Jayce hiding in here?
Begrudgingly, Viktor pulled out a few pieces of hard candy. No, he wasn’t that desperate yet. Not that he didn’t like the taste, but this would likely do little for his hunger. Jayce usually offered some when he was feeling nauseous, thus he ended up feeling…a certain kind of way about them. He put them back in the drawer.
Oh, there were some cookies here. Nice. Surely Jayce wouldn’t mind if he helped himself to some. And the sugar would be a nice contrast to all the saltiness of the peanuts. That made sense, right? Of course it did.
To his surprise, he finished the bag of peanuts within a few minutes. He crumpled the bag up and tossed it in the basin beneath Jayce’s desk. The little tin of cookies was placed atop of the desk and popped open. Shortbread cookies. Now where did he get these? Likely a gift from some famous someone or another. Ah, well. At least they were being eaten instead of wasted. They were surprisingly buttery. Pretty good, actually.
Viktor had eaten a third one when the door opened behind him.
“Viktor?”
He turned, holding the half eaten cookie between his fingers. Standing there, in fact a few minutes early, was his awaited partner Jayce, back from the arduous task of a council meeting. Looking quite…an interesting mix of bewildered and awed as he watched him pop the rest of the cookie in his mouth.
“Oh good. There you are.” Viktor put the lid back on the cookies. He brushed his fingers off on his pants. “You’re back early, actually.”
“Uh, we decided to push another topic back for another meeting. We wanted to break for lunch.”
“ Lunch . What a splendid idea. You’ve read my mind.” Viktor smiled. His cane clicked on the tile floor as he approached Jayce. “We should head out for lunch.”
Jayce blinked slowly. “Are you…actually suggesting that we head out for lunch?”
“I am. Is there an issue with that?”
“N-No! Not at all! Just, uh,” Jayce laughed, his smile widening, and he snatched Viktor’s coat off of the hanger. In one smooth motion he tossed it over the man’s shoulders, causing him to squeak out his surprise. “There we go. Come on. I’m ready.”
“Wonderful. I’m starving.”