Chapter Text
His body dissolved into music. There was no other way to describe it. The particles making his physical form became notes, and the sheer hope of turning into a melody kept them close enough to not pull him farther apart. Hair and blood and teeth and lungs, now a cacophony of sounds, unable to tell Do's from Re's, and Mi's from Fa's.
And then something else was there.
It intertwined and herded the notes. Streaks of parallel lines the notes could rest upon – a scale. It showed them their placement, connected them into chords, and suddenly there was a song. The notes fulfilled their potential. The scale had a purpose. They sung a final note, a sound. A name.
Viktor woke up.
His body was laying on his back, buzzing like a metal instrument that had just blared its final note. There was something fragile about it, in a different sense than usual. As if he were still nothing but notes, threatening to be lost between the whispers of the wind.
Wind. There was wind. He could feel it on his face. He could… feel his face. The subtle chill of an early autumn's breeze. Hungrily, he opened his eyes and was greeted by incredulously bright skies. Soft clouds crossed them lazily. All that was missing were songbirds, and it would have been… No, not perfect. Songbirds, a field of tulips and the scent of freshly cut grass, none of those would have made it perfect. Something was missing. A scale to form a melody on. A name.
"Jayce."
Viktor sat up to find an endless sea spread before him, a deep blue glistening in the sunlight afar and white foam swaying close to his feet… from which he quickly looked away. He was sitting on soft, powder-like sand. The sound of reoccurring waves was interweaving with the lull of the wind. A tattered blanket was hanging loosely around his meek frame. He was feeling fabric that was once soft, coarse sea salt and the warmth of the sun on his skin. His skin. He was not metal. He was not Arcane. Viktor was himself.
It felt like someone had pulled a wrench out of his brain, but the wrench had also pulled a part of his brain out with it. It felt… No, no time to dwell on that. He needs to find him.
"Jayce." His body wasn't sore, surprisingly, although it was incredibly fatigued. He was immensely tired; the smallest movement grated his joints. Still, he turned his head to the right. Just more sand. He turned his head to the left. Just. More. Sand. But the image was burned into his mind. Damnit, he could still feel the back of his head prickle with the memory of Jayce's hand clasping his nape. He stayed with him. He must be here. Viktor refused to believe otherwise. Jayce must be---
Something between a gasp and a groan erupted from behind him, and before he could react something lunged at Viktor and knocked them both back to the ground. Viktor squeaked, too weak to even shout in protest, and squinted against the sun to see what had toppled him.
He would not describe him as a vision of beauty, because Viktor was not a poet nor a sap. But having pushed himself up to gaze down at Viktor, with the sun in his back turning his skin bronze and giving his outline a golden glow, and a smile so bright it could convince an entire sunflower field to turn his way, Jayce looked like a wish that came true.
"Viktor!" His voice was hoarse, full of disbelief and amazement.
"Jayce." This time, the name came out of him in a relieved sigh. Without thinking, he stretched his arms up, wrapped them around Jayce's broad shoulders and pulled him back down.
Jayce collapsed on top of him, knocking the air out of Viktor. But he didn't care. He relished in the soft, calm breaths Jayce made against his collarbone as Viktor soothingly rubbed his back and leaned his cheek against Jayce's forehead.
"We're alive," Jayce finally said, his voice vibrating through Viktor's ribcage. It was only slightly alarming how in tune it was with Viktor's heart.
We're together, Viktor wanted to say, but settled on, "We're here."
"Where is here?"
"No clue."
"Fantastic." Jayce buried his face a little deeper into Viktor's side, between the crook of his arm and his chest. He dug his arms underneath him, around Viktor's waist, and quickly made himself comfortable as if he were merely a pillow. "Wake me up when the sun isn't so bright."
Viktor's senses were still filtered through a dreamlike haze. He knew it was a miracle he was alive; however, he could not remember why. The same way a patient would wake up from a life-threatening surgery still numb from medicine, but conscious enough to cherish their own eyes opening. Jayce's body, massive, warm and snuggly like a weighted blanket did not exactly help bring him to his senses. Viktor might have even fallen asleep right then and there, perhaps dissolving into music once more, if it weren't for Jayce's sudden question: "What are you wearing?"
"Ah." Viktor was a brilliant scientist with a quick wit and killer retorts. But he could not, for the life of him, figure out what he could say that would defuse Jayce's question. He tried deflecting. "I could ask you the same."
"Mm, you could."
"What are you wearing?"
"Shirt and pants. You?"
Deflecting did not work. On to denial. "Not sure."
"Not sure?"
"The followers must have given it to me."
"No they didn't." Jayce's fingers mulled over the fabric. There was a hint of a smile in his voice when he added, "I did."
Fine, denial did not work either. "What do you want me to say?"
Jayce hummed happily. "That you're wearing the dirty blanket from our lab."
"I'm wearing your dirty blanket from our lab," he grumbled. "And it's not dirty, I washed it."
"I'm just saying, there are plenty of clothes in the world, and you chose…"
Alright, no other choice – when in doubt, fake a flinch. Every fiber of Viktor's being was fully convinced he will evaporate into nothing if Jayce's warmth leaves him, but since that was only slightly less embarrassing than wherever this conversation was heading, Viktor winced and hissed, jolting his knee slightly. It was incredibly effective; Jayce immediately pulled away and dropped the topic.
"Ah, wait!" Jayce hurried to scatter off of him and sit at Viktor's feet. He then grabbed Viktor's outstretched arm and gently pulled him to sit back up. "You good?"
Viktor's eyes trailed from Jayce's tall boots, to his dark tailored pants and his black buttoned shirt, with the red collar and sleeves rolled up above the elbows, showing off the gold and crimson accents underneath. Viktor was vaguely aware that something was off. Not about the outfit itself, per se, he was quite positive it was not altered (even in the soup that was currently his brain, Viktor would not forget how this outfit was supposed to look on Jayce), it was more so about the timing. He was ambiguously aware of having just escaped a war, so had Jayce worn this to battle? Seems impractical. Although that would explain the metal parts built around one of Jayce's legs – they must be parts of an armor, so perhaps the rest of it did not transfer with him? Maybe if Viktor were to examine it a while longer, he could figure out what it was exactly, but he did not care for it as much. His eyes quickly moved on to inspect Jayce's face.
A few bruises had bloomed under his jaw and on his chin. Although they were mostly covered up by the newest upgraded feature of Jayce which was his short beard. A few cuts interrupted the sharp curve of his lips (Viktor did not allow himself to wander much in that area) and four oval-shaped blemishes scarred his forehead, which for a reason Viktor could not yet recall he felt guilty about. Jayce's dark brown hair was quite long and tussled, sprinkled with sand like stardust, and from between his long dark lashes his eyes worriedly stared at Viktor.
Golden Boy, the thought rushed through his head, almost instinctively. When Viktor called him that, usually in a mocking tone, it held a different meaning than when most said it. He had forgotten what it was until he saw Jayce's eyes resting on him again. A beautiful golden hue, rich but soft, like a sunset over a lake.
"I am alright," Viktor finally croaked and raised his hands to inspect them. His Arcane exoskeleton was ripped off like a scab, and underneath was nothing but scarred, near see-through skin and bulging blue veins. No purple splotches of flesh; plain porcelain, as if he were never encased in Arcane. Its only evidence were the etchings of white lines, drawing swirls and webs across his arms. He regarded them with general despondence and assumed the rest of his body looked the same, but was too cowardly to check. "Surprisingly enough."
"Tell me about it." Jayce studied him with honest eyes. Viktor could feel them delaying shortly on his leg, but mostly his eyes and hair. He was very aware of himself in that moment – not necessarily in a bad way. But not quite in a good way either. Very frustrating.
"You look different," Jayce finally said.
"Yes, the Arcane has left its mark."
"Not just that. Your hair, it's slightly shorter than how you've had it at the commune. Not to mention the highlights." Jayce picked a strand from above Viktor's forehead and gently pulled it down. It was definitely shorter, Viktor had to cross his eyes to look at it properly. And indeed, strokes of iridescent pastel blue were woven between the regular chestnut-colored hairs. He could now make out silvery pink strands in Jayce's hair, too, shimmering in the light of the sun.
"Fascinating," he marveled, "it seems we are not quite ourselves."
"We're us." Jayce smiled softly. "That's all that matters."
"To you maybe, I would still like to know why."
Jayce chuckled.
Viktor passed a hand through his hair and resisted the urge to do the same with Jayce's. "It is as if we glitched, and the form created is an assortment of various versions of ourselves, past and future alike. This is how I used to have my hair in the lab, when I did not have as much time for haircuts. And this blue, it is reminiscent of the hues I was colored in within the Arcane. It would also explain your outfit, I am quite sure you wore a cape and armor last time we've seen each other."
Jayce frowned at the sand, perhaps sifting through his own brain soup for something tangible to recollect. "Oh right, that makes sense." Seeming content with these conclusions, Jayce pulled his legs to his chest and leaned his head on his knees. He closed his eyes, the creases between his eyebrows finally softening.
Viktor just sat there quietly, admiring Jayce's existence beside him. He was still not entirely convinced this was real. Jayce had just hugged him. He had hugged Jayce, too. After such a long time. Too long, his heart would have liked to add, but Viktor would not allow it.
He was slowly beginning to feel more present, aware. The refreshing scent of sea tickling his nose, his fingers picking up the texture of featherlike sand.
Viktor watched Jayce's back rise and fall with his breath, and wondered, with his senses now less dull, how soft his heartbeats actually are, and how warm his body must be, and how his… brace. Jayce had a brace. Viktor had just now realized what it was. Definitely not part of an armor, and if Viktor had to guess, not part of this outfit either. The brace was made of metals colored white and crimson, some of its parts held together by a red cord. It had a rigidness to it that did not belong with the rest of Jayce's getup. It was a piece of Jayce pulled from a different time.
And something was wrong with it.
Unfortunately, Viktor could not put his finger on it. Just goes to show how eagerly his brain had disposed of anything related to his sickness. He had used a brace for years; it was practically a part of him. But as soon as he did not need it, it vanished from his mind. Or, perhaps more accurately, it was repressed. Like an unwanted memory too vital and traumatizing to trust time to fade away.
Jayce's groan pulled Viktor out of his pondering. He begrudgingly pushed himself off his knees, leaning back on his arms instead.
Viktor frowned. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, it's just my leg, I put too much strain on it. I need to..." He tried straightening his knee to sit more comfortably, and just barely managed to hide the pained snarl that slipped between his teeth.
Yes, something was wrong with the brace, Viktor was sure of it now. Jayce's knee was pushed to the side, as if the brace was trying to fold it outwards. "Let me see that." He tried to stand up to look from another angle, but a sharp jolt of pressure shot up his leg.
"Ah, careful–!"
Before Viktor could react, he found himself caught in Jayce's arms, his cheek pressed against a solid chest, a mere moment before hitting the ground.
"Sorry," he muttered, disoriented. His stupid leg... No. His good leg. That was the one which tripped him. He could feel the blood pumping through it in deafening beats, his blood vessels expanding and shrinking against his skin, almost bursting through it.
Hiding another pained grunt, Jayce carefully helped Viktor sit in front of him, their folded legs almost intertwined like fingers of a couple holding hands. "Is your leg causing you trouble again?" He reached for Viktor's bad leg, and only then did Viktor dare look at it. It was blackened like a bruise. Swirling dents, signatures of the Arcane, scarred his flesh so deep he could swear it marked his bones, too. It was shriveled, tender and disgusting. Still Jayce massaged his knee with nothing but genuine worry. Viktor swallowed hard when he realized Jayce's fingers are leaving no traces of sensation on his skin. "Does this hurt?"
Viktor shook his head. "I feel nothing. It's numb. Dead."
"It'll be alright." Jayce more frantically pressed at him, perhaps trying to find a spot still reactive. "It'll all be alright, don't worry, Viktor."
"Jayce, no, you misunderstood." He took his hand away and gently guided it to his other leg, where his bright skin could do barely anything but flush warm against Jayce's touch. "My other leg made me fall. I had forgotten how it feels to, well, feel. The weight of myself caught me by surprise, I unevenly distributed it between my legs and just... Fell over."
"Oh." Jayce's fingers delicately massaged his leg. This time every touch made it jitter or flex. "Oh, thank goodness." He fell forward, his forehead leaning against Viktor's knee.
Two very powerful instincts internally fought within Viktor. Infusing himself with the Arcane had nulled his sense of touch, so after months of being deprived of any type of physical sensation, a part of Viktor wanted to push himself as far away from Jayce as possible. While another part was yelling at Viktor to collapse his body over Jayce's and embrace him like steel melting over a mold. In the end, both options cancelled each other out, and Viktor remained stiff in his place, hyper-focused on Jayce's gentle breaths against his skin. It is what made him notice their speed. Short and quick.
"Jayce." He carefully pushed him off, having to tilt Jayce's chin up to get a better look at his face. "Jayce, are you in pain? Is it the brace?"
"W-what?" Jayce sighed as he leaned away, placing his arms behind again to keep himself from falling back. He was, unfortunately, very handsome in this moment, sitting more openly and heaving gently, his chest pressed forward and his biceps flexed.
"What?" asked Viktor.
"What do you mean what?" said Jayce. "I said what first, you answer."
"Ah, yes, your brace!" The neurons reattached themselves in Viktor's brain. "I think it might be putting pressure on your knee, bending it wrong. Let me have a look."
With a pained hiss, Jayce stretched his leg forward, laying it flat on the beach. "Be my guest."
Viktor scooted closer to take a look, his dead leg dragging along at his side. He'll deal with that later, for once he wanted to take care of someone else's leg. His hands went to grab a part of the brace, but froze. He looked at it. Then looked at it some more. Then he tried sending his hands again but stopped. "Hm," he decided, "I seem to not know what to do."
"What?" A surprised, almost bark-like laughter left Jayce. "You've taught me how to fix your brace, how could you not do it yourself?"
"Usually when I fix my brace," he hurriedly said, too distracted by the surprising sensation of his flushing face to compose himself, "it is in a different angle, attached to me. I have never fixed someone else's brace."
Jayce chuckled again. It was almost enough to make Viktor's heart stammer. He would have perhaps denied it, if he were not so comforted by the confirmation of his heart still beating. Since fully fusing with the Arcane, his heart did not beat; it hummed like an engine. Or a lurking beast.
Jayce offered his hand to Viktor. "So sit next to me, do it from your angel."
He helped him to his side. Viktor laid his legs forward too, so his bad one rested next to Jayce's braced one.
Viktor began by studying the brace. As he reviewed the various parts, noting their connections, bolts, positions and thickness, a rush of excitement rolled through his starving brain.
Yes, using – or perhaps more accurately conversing with the Arcane – had a lot of logic to it. But one would find this logic by doing something that is more reminiscent of exploring emotions than observing a specimen. By doing the equivalent of studying a puzzle and untangling its pieces, for the first time in a long time, Viktor felt like himself again. Just himself. Not a system, not even a cog in one. But a single unit solving a problem.
He was, to be frank, ecstatic. He quickly forgot about his own legs and fatigue and just got to work, leaning forward to evaluate the handiwork of the pieces clasped around Jayce's ankle, or rolling the leg aside (while ignoring Jayce's brief pained yelp) to get a closer look at the bolts near the inner thigh.
Even so, Viktor still had to crane his neck in order to see the brace from all sides. He huffed. "Inefficient." Viktor placed one arm on Jayce's shoulder and another on the ground by his feet, then lifted himself up and shuffled to sit in the nook between Jayce's legs. With Jayce sprawled at his sides, he could now look at the brace the same way he would have looked at his own.
Jayce immediately slumped onto him. Viktor inhaled sharply.
It has been months, maybe even years, since Jayce had done this. During long nights in the lab, while Viktor was still standing in front of the blackboards contemplating whether poking out his eyes would be less painful than solving these equations, and would it be a good enough of an excuse for the Council to never force him to solve another again, it wasn't too uncommon for Jayce to pop out behind him and plop his head on Viktor's shoulder.
It was funny, because it seemed like Viktor's body remembered this habit. It did not jolt nor lean into it; it simply accepted it. The same way an expecting head will not squirm away from the hand scratching it.
However, Viktor's mind needed a second or two to compose itself. He has not seen Jayce in so long. Not just Jayce the person, but his lab partner Jayce. The one who spent consecutive days with Viktor in the lab. Who had to physically haul Viktor outside so he would consume first-hand oxygen. Who would solve an equation twice as fast when Viktor sat next to him and pressed his shoulder against his. The same Jayce who excitedly kissed Viktor's cheek once in a fit of happiness after Viktor managed to stabilize the Hextech marble for the first time. Sometimes he could still feel it there. Even in his Herald form. It was perhaps the only shred of sensation he had retained.
Jayce's body was warm, leaning against his back, but it was also heavy and Viktor found himself bending a bit too forward.
"Jayce," he said.
"Mn."
"Jayce, wake up."
"Mmm."
"I cannot fix your brace if all I can reach is your toes."
"'s fine."
"It is not fine. If we do not get this done, the damage to your leg could be permanent."
Jayce dug his head between Viktor's shoulder blades, rubbing against him like a cat. Viktor's body was very much less used to this physical interaction; it almost tried to squirm away. Whether because it was uncomfortable or just ticklish, Viktor refused to dwell on it for long enough to find out
"It's already permanent," mumbled Jayce. "I didn't treat it properly. There was too much to do. The only reason I even bothered to change clothes is because the Council wouldn’t allow me in the building otherwise. I'm also pretty sure the brace I later wore was just one I picked off a shelf, I didn't have time to get one specially fitted."
"Jayce!" Viktor smacked his shoulder. "Your autonomy is crucial; you should not have delayed seeking a professional just because you were too busy."
"Yeah, you're right, wonder who I learned that from." Jayce flicked the back of his head in retaliation.
"Mneh, point taken. Still, it might not be too late." Viktor gently pushed back against him, getting Jayce to straighten up but still press against his back. "How did this happen, Jayce?"
Jayce paused, his own brain probably also sloshing from whatever had thrown them into wherever they were now. He eventually managed to piece together, "Hexcore dimension cliff hammer vendetta."
"Ah," said Viktor, understanding nothing. "Later, then."
Jayce wrapped his arms around Viktor's torso, just below his armpits so he'd be able to move his arms freely and reach all the parts of the brace that he needs. In the meantime, Jayce returned to breathing quietly against his back, perhaps falling in and out of sleep. Viktor barely noticed him, too indulged by the task at hand.