Chapter Text
If I could
I’d be your little spoon
And kiss your fingers forever more
But big spoon
You have so much to do
And I have nothing ahead of me
Your Best American Girl ~ Mitski
As Viktor lies there, in what has become his home, he keeps quiet, listening eagerly to the thoughts of all of the residents, hearing them exclaim about a man, tall, with dark hair, a thick beard. Jayce. He has been awaiting his arrival for so, so long, for years. All he wants to do is show him around, show him the gardens, the plants he harnessed the power to grow, the thriving civilians. He’s made what he’s always wanted, a world without the pain, the hurt, where no one is broken. Their plans with the Hextech was to save and benefit the people in Zaun, the fissures especially, and while not directly, they've achieved that now, Viktor has healed a plethora of people because of the power of the Hexcore.
He can’t wait to see his reaction, to watch his smile grow when he shows him the happiness of everyone here, the children, who like him, could ever run, sprinting around the lake like nothing can stop them—because nothing can. He's perfected them, has changed humans, created something stronger, better, and he has full control, anyone here would give him anything he asks for. Yet, he rarely makes requests, his plan, is not to use these people for worship, but to strengthen them till they no longer need him.
He wants these people who were pained, plagued by illness to finally gain some independence. He knows Jayce will be proud, after all, Jayce will understand. He’ll understand the desperation all of these people once possessed, will understand that Viktor has erased the biggest stressors of these people lives, had made everything much simpler. Viktor just wants to breathe in Jayce, he wants to show him his leg he no longer needs a brace and cane to walk on, he wants to show him how he can run, how fast he can go. He wants to hold Jayce, now that he has the strength to, and he’s never going to let go, he's not making that mistake again.
But when Jayce steps into the circular alter he constructed for himself, he's not met with a happy face, but one with furrowed eyebrows and a brooding look. With hair pasted to his forehead and dirt matting his skin. He’s so tan compared to the last time he saw him, he looks stronger despite the minimal food he was surviving off of.
“Viktor.” Jayce growls, and his face drops, he’s not met with longing, with love but instead with pure loathing and hostility. His eyes are so angry, and Viktor knows, in that moment that he is going to die, he's going to die here, by the hands of the only person he’s ever loved.
“Just let me talk, please.” Viktor whispers, trying to keep his voice quiet, as low and dim as possible as to not sound threatening. “I want to show you what I’ve created, Jayce.” The name slides off of his tongue and the word is thick like honey, sticking in the back of his throat, impossible to swallow down. He stares at that face, it’s wroth, with burning eyes and furrowed brows, teeth cleaned and bared like he's snarling, hands tugging his hammer closer to him. He knows his attempts at a longer life, a happy one with Jayce is nothing but futile. He's done wrong, they both have, and the don’t have the time to talk things through, Jayce doesn't have the sanity.
His mind first tells him to run, to fight back, to at least attempt to, but then he thinks about how that would be defying Jayce, how horrible he would feel if he had to hurt him. He’d rather just prepare, make himself ready for the power he’s going to get hit with. He swallows thickly and takes a deep breath, and in that time, Jayce aims and twist the handle of his hammer, eyes filled with rage.
Despite his bet measures to prepare, being hit with the powerful blast from the hammer is horribly jarring. It lets out a bright light, illuminating the room, blinding them both for a moment. When Viktor can see again, he's lying on the ground, Jayce standing before him, trembling, that look of despise wiped from his face. Viktor feels the gear between his index finger and his thumb, one of the only places he can feel anymore, but that's fading to. He can’t tell he even dropped it until he sees it rolling on the ground, bumping against Jayce’s boot with a soft clink.
Maybe he should be mad at him, he really should be, he's the reason he’s lying here on the ground, a gaping hole in his chest, his whole body aching. He’s the reason all of the people Viktor had ever healed are now slumped against the earth, faces pressed to cold dirt and stone. He cant be mad though, there's not an inch of his body that feels rage, the only thing he can feel is guilt, remorse. Betrayal is there to, but can he blame Jayce? All of the things that he’s done have been sick, they’ve been twisted and disgusting. He knew he had made bad decisions and done bad things, but he assumed Jayce would find a way to look past it, that he would at least attempt a peaceful return.
Every time that they would fight he would return within minutes apologizing, soothing a hand over his hair. Maybes its a bit self-righteous, maybe he shouldn’t expect to be treated so gratefully and gently, but he remembers Jayce as someone who always apologized and did everything he could to make him feel safe. It's terrifying seeing him like this, he knew all that he did, getting stuck down by the Hexgates would change him, but he didn’t think it would be this drastic.
“Jayce...” Viktor whispers from his feeble lips, voice trembling as he stares up at him, at his face, his body. “Why? Why do all of this, you didn't even...Let me show you around.” His voice grows weaker with every word, and his vision gets worse, begins fading in and out. Then there's a hand on his waist, one on his cheek, pressing to what little skin is left on his face and he melts into it. Jayce is at his side, though now, his hands are trembling into the touch.
“Because I promised you, Viktor, that I would destroy this...And if I let you talk, for even a minute, if I let you show me around, I...I wouldn’t have been able to do this. I hate myself for even hurting you, and it would’ve just been so, so much harder if I had to witness all that you’ve created. I don’t want to kill you, Viktor, I just want you back, the real you, not-not whatever this is.” Jayce stutters, grabbing tighter onto Viktor, like simple touch is enough to bring him back, through mind and body. He wishes it was, when he thinks back on who he was, he longs for it, he longs for making dumb jokes in the lab way past midnight, sleeping on that tiny couch with Jayce despite how his back and leg ached the next morning.
He misses the simplicity of life before all of this happened, before he was unrightfully snatched from the comforting embrace of death, back into the cold of life. Again, he was selfish, because in that moment where he felt himself leaving, he wanted desperately to go, he heard Jayce’s sobs, heard him pleading for him to stay, but, all he wanted was to leave. He wanted to run and swim and dance, and if dying, retreating to the afterlife, was the answer, that's all he could ever want no matter how it affected anyone.
“Why didn’t you let me die, Jayce.” He grumbles, voice growing thick and gravely with exhaustion. He can feel it, this fatigue emptying him, digging all of the energy from his form and dumping it into the dirt. It felt exactly like he did those days where he was dying, eroding, his lungs failing, coughing up blood every day, until he couldn’t take it anymore. At least this time, his death may be more gentle, against the cold dirt, in nature. He believes that dying in nature Is the best way to go, the most honest, it’s like returning to the grounds of which you were born, crawling back to the womb of the Earth. He hopes to wake up right where he started the commune, in a forest, somewhere away from all civilization, so he can be alone. He needs time to think, to reflect, and no matter what afterlife that it is he returns to, he knows that will be offered.
It's his most asked question, by all of the people here, all that they wonder is where they will go after they die, if they’ll ascend to some kind of distant realm or be born once more, different yet the same. They often forgot that Viktor isn’t more than a human turned prophet, that he doesn’t have that infinite wisdom they often associate with him. All he knows is that he hopes it’s a peaceful transition, that he’ll get to share it with someone. And while this might not be the circumstances he meant it in, Jayce is still by his side, still cradling him, still loving him, even after all of the horrible, twisted things he’s done.
“You know why.” Jayce answers, tears rolling down his cheeks as he does, though a small smile grows beneath them, a remorseful, somber one. Viktor tries to return it, though there's no way to feel or see if he actually did, everything is numb now, everywhere except for the warm touch of Jayce’s skin on his. He’s not even sure he’s breathing anymore, not that there's a need to. He looks around slowly, at everything he’s built, everything he’s created, yet the most tragic thing isn’t his dying body but the sight of those others, fighting alongside him. He doesn’t want to take anyone down with his actions, that was his one rule, for anyone who wanted to be healed, to join them, violence was forbidden. He had sworn to himself to never hurt another, to never kill, and he wants to stay true to that.
He hadn’t realized that his death would lead to all of the others passing, and now he feels guilty. If he would’ve know countless lives were on his hands, he would’ve been more defensive, would’ve fought back instead of just letting everything happen. But it’s to late, it’s to late for regret because he already killed all of them, he had promised them long lives, safe ones, he promised to take away the pain from life and now he’s the reason they’re all dead. He had finally given them reasons to live and he took that gentle, easier life away from them, all simply because of the actions he had taken, the reckless ones.
“None of this would’ve happened, if you hadn’t-” Viktor stars, feeling a warm hand grip his chin tightly, forcing him into blurry eye contact through a thick coating of tears.
“Don’t say that...Even if I knew what was going to happen, I would’ve saved you, every single time, I would save you.” Jayce insists, proclaiming his love, his admiration for Viktor. And he can tell that he’s not lying, he can see the sincerity in his eyes, the desperation in his voice, and he know he would never lie about something this important.
“What are we, Jayce?” His voice is small scared, asking the question he was to scared to ask all those years ago when they where young. Is it normal to spend all night cuddled together? Is is normal to tell your best friend you love him over and over and over? What about never leaving said persons side, spending every single moment you can with one another, pressed together, and is it normal to swear on your life to save someone in every single universe, no matter what it results in?
Hes afraid he’ll never get an answer, and the look on Jayces face only helps grow his fear. He’s not sure of the answer either, there's something between them more than a friendship, their love, their longing is to strong for it to be just that. But then again, Jayce turned away from him when he needed help, he turned to Mel. Venom curls up his throat at the thought of her, at the mention of that disgusting, vile name he never wants to hear anymore. He tried not to hate her, but it was inevitable with how he treated Jayce, how she looked at him like he was hers. She never spent late, sacred nights with him, she never saved him from jumping from his balcony. She thought of him as an investment, thats it, she manipulated him, tugged him into agreement he wasn’t sure about because he was chasing after her like a puppy.
“We’re partners, V.” Jayce whispers, his words airy, almost floating away before they can reach Viktors ears. This isn’t the admission he was looking for, wasn’t the proclamation of love he ached for, wasn’t a kiss pressed to his lips or arms wrapped tight. He doesn’t want to be “partners” anymore, they have been partners for so long, and Jayce doesn’t care for any more elaboration, he’s comfortable floating around in limbo, whereas Viktor needs a resolve, some sort of commitment.
He doesn’t like feeling weak, uncertain, he became like this to rid of such things yet every time Jayce appears, he messes it all up, like he cancels out all of the work Viktor has put into himself, the commune. He can't stand feeling this diminutive, like he’s insignificant, doesn’t matter. He’s crafted everything, built it all up for himself, to improve his life every day, to change himself until he became something greater, and falling back into his past self is humiliating.
For the first time in years, it’s hard to breathe, for the first time he actually has to breathe, human necessities hadn’t tormented him since he was resurrected, and having to fight through ever inhale and ever exhale is trying.
“I don't want to be partners...” Viktor coughs out, fishing his hand around at his side until it’s met with warmth. He can’t move his neck to look and see what it is he’s connected with , but he wraps his fingers around the skin that is offered. Jayces face shifts, his brows furrowing, eyes growing wide like he’s being blamed. It had always been sacred to him, the fact that they were partners, it was something only they shared, and it just...hurts, seeing Viktor so hesitant of said title. “It’s okay, you don’t...Have to feel the same.” He whispers, he doesn’t want to force it, love, affection, intimacy, it should be natural, and he’s found out through the years, meddling with the natural course of things isn’t safe, isn’t predictable. It’s creates monsters, it creates him, it creates chaos, the downfall of the world, the erasure of the human race.
“Don’t make me think about this, not now.” Jayce whispers, and his voice is thick, scratchy, gravely. He isn’t the same at all, he not soft like he used to be, but rough around the edges, his palms are calloused and his skin is multiple shades darker. Everything about him is more intimidating, even his speech, every word seems to hold a meaning when he says it, theres no filler words, even when he does grow gentle, if only for a moment, it’s not like how it used to be. Maybe it’s aging, maybe hitting thirty got rid of that positive, young outlook he once had, maybe he gave up on niceties, finding pleasure in the simple things. Viktor couldn’t blame him, he had to. Things were different for him though, he gave up on hope early on, finding out you were dying of a disease slowly does that to one.
But being resurrected, it’s like it changed him, it feels a bit blatant, but it’s true, he realized nothing is certain, everything, even what seems to be the undeniable truth, the indisputable future, can change. He was supposed to die, how many time, three now? When he was born, they said he wouldn’t make it past a year, then he was told lung disease would whittle away his health until he passed, and then he was crushed under rubble, suffocated and doused with pain. He was dead, for how long, he doesn’t know, but for minutes, he was dead. His heart was no longer beating, his brain wasn’t sending signals, wasn't functioning, there was no oxygen in his body, and it seemed unquestionable. This is how he would die, he would pass in pain, he would pass alone, no time to say goodbye, or be cradled.
And then it changed, he came back and realized everyone could be like him, they could all be greater, overcome every single fault that humanity has created, no violence would plague them, not even to the creates roaming. They lived off of plants, they learned to grow, and recipes were crafted with the new, unique ingredients. They invited family and friends to taste, and Viktor even tagged along, despite not needing any sort of sustenance.
His life became the commune, figuratively, and literally, everything here, ever house, ever bit of greenery was grown from his palms, ever path, he flattened, every life he saved. It’s hard not to become selfish, greedy, when you are the second closest thing to God, it’s hard to keep your humility when people bow down to you at every chance they get, when they praise every ounce of ground you walked on, and kiss your feet and ankles. Despite his best efforts, it got to him, the praise, some of it is his fault, he accepted it greedily, because this part of him, deep down longs for it. They touch, the love, the affection. Sometimes he would close his eyes and just imagine, maybe it was Jayce holding his shins, eulogizing his skin, his word, his everything.
He would think to the memories he has of their nights together, the events that transpired. He would think of the night where he had to be carried back to his room by Jayce after on of the big councilor parties. He clung to every single idea that ever came into his head about Jayce because that was all he had. Everything, he had lost, being with Jayce changed him, changed his character, he thought more about how he affected others, he was more conscious of his speech. He lost it, all of that when he became a herald, once one becomes important, becomes adored, it’s hard to fade back into the background. With Jayce, he was unknown, anonymous, but now, he’s everything to hundreds of people. He is a savior.
He would say he regrets it, regrets what he became, but, being able to see all of the people he made happy, all of the people he helped, it felt worth it. He would give anything, everything to see himself run, and he did, morphing himself into someone, something interchangeable with the Arcane. Every motivation for everything he’s done has been self improvement, and then, it furthered to helping all of those like him. He made the blind see, make the deaf hear.
Evolution, that was his motivator. He liked the word, how it sounded on his tongue, how it seemed natural. The people of the commune were calmed by it, by a hand, his hand pressed to their skull, to their skin. His hands had learned to craft magic, learned to harness it.
“I don’t want to go...I don’t want to loose you.” Viktor whispers, the hand curled around his, and the one curled around his waist tighten, letting him know Jayce feels the same. He’s not scared of death, really, he isn’t, he’s faced it so many times, the only thing he’s scared for is being alone. And even then, it’s just being away from Jayce, really. He can handle loneliness, he grew used to it, but when Jayce was gone, he really felt empty.
“I’m sorry, I’ll get better, I promise, I wont keep going, I-I’ll be done...With all this evolution stuff...” He starts to beg, to plead as if Jayce could do anything to heal the gaping wound in his chest. The pain is getting to him at this point, the looming shadow of death. He’s gotten to desperation, clinging onto anything that could possibly save him from this outcome despite his prior knowledge of it’s possibility.
“What can I do, please, tell me anything I could do to fix this...to-to fix you.” Jayce sobs, the tears in his eyes pressing against his bottom eyelids as he grabs onto him tighter. The thing is, Viktors mouth stays shut, and his eyes do this weird thing, growing glossy and distant, like hes staring through Jayce instead of at him. He’s silent because he has no ideas, thats what it has to be, right? Viktors movements still, and Jayces mind begins to stir with ideas, with thoughts, he shoves them back in his mind, waiting eagerly for an answer, desperate for one.
“Please, Viktor, please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry...” He’s the one begging now, his forehead pressed to Viktors cold, metallic chest as he cradles him ever closer. He wanted Viktor back, really, that's all that he wanted, but...The way things worked out, it just wasn't possible. Not when Viktor had become this lost in all of this, in being a god, a savior to so many people.
Jayce kisses Viktors forehead, he pets stray hairs back behind his ears and stays, pressed as close as he can manage. He can’t believe he lost him, and that he ended up being the one to take him. He tried, time, and time again to save Viktor, whether it be from himself or an illness, a bomb shot without warning. And yet, it seems they’ve fallen to this fate, where something Jayce does is what kills Viktor in the end. Piltovers pollution ravaged his lungs, Jayce brought him into the council meeting, and now, he’s killed him, purposefully.
Maybe soulmates are real, and maybe they are, with just a few complications. Maybe in another world, they fell in love peacefully, and lived on, found a cure for Viktor that wasn’t this, and they have a few cats, maybe a dog too. Their souls seem to be bonded, but rather than in love, in death.
Jayce isn’t sure which would be more troubling.