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Day after day Viktor could feel himself growing weaker, more exhausted, and incredibly desperate for a solution to his failing body. With the sleepless nights and the missed meals, he was doing himself no aid… but Jayce hadn’t been in the lab to help him in so long.
The council was his new aspiration it felt like, too drawn in with keeping Councilwoman Medarda pleased, and taking a stand against Viktor’s people.
They’re dangerous! He had spat, this intense look of misplaced anger in his best friend’s eyes as he indirectly insulted him.
Viktor’s hands would pause in what they were doing before slamming his fist down on the tabletop of his workbench in frustration, eyebrows furrowed in an irritated growl. Why did Jayce have to say something so closed-minded? He knew the man to be better than that!
As emotions started to overwhelm him, he’d toss the screwdriver he’d been using amongst the array of equipment in front of him, choosing to pinch at the bridge of his nose to try and cast the memory away.
I don’t have time for this…
Unbeknownst to him, he was being watched in the doorway of the room. A version of his best friend that was not his own lurked in the dark, surveying him like some sort of predator.
In Jayce’s eyes, everything felt unsettling. The lab, still intact and vibrant, hummed with life, unlike the desolate ruins he had grown accustomed to in the ravine. The smell of burnt metal and decay replaced with the familiar scent of soldering circuits and fresh parchment. In the middle of it all, hunched over his work, was Viktor.
Not the monster I’ve known... not yet. Jayce’s mind swirled with conflicting emotions at the sight of his friend so vulnerable and yet so alive. But this is what he wants... this is what I must do.
Jayce gripped the handle of the warped hammer tightly, knuckles white. The weight of the weapon, and the weight of his mission, felt suffocating. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, before stepping forward, his boots echoing through the otherwise quiet space.
The sudden echo of boots against the cold metal floor of the lab pulled Viktor's attention away. He looked up slowly, eyes squinting as they adjusted in the darkness.
As the silhouette drew closer, Viktor's gold irises widened in surprise. "Jayce?" he croaked out, voice raspy from the lack of use and the dryness that seemed to cling to his throat lately.
His best friend stood before him, but he was a far cry from the polished, confident man he remembered. The council suit that once fitted him like a glove now hung on him like rags, stained and torn in places. A thick, unkempt beard hid the sharp jawline Viktor had grown so familiar with. And his hair... it was wild and untamed in a sight he had never seen before.
"Jayce, what happened to you?" Viktor managed to ask, voice barely above a whisper. He tried to push himself up from his stool, but a sudden wave of dizziness crashed into him, making the room spin violently around him. His frail hand grasped at the edge of his workbench, knuckles turning white as he fought against the urge to collapse.
He looks... like he's been through hell... Viktor's thoughts swirled with concern and worry.
Jayce's gold eyes, now tainted with madness, flickered with guilt at the sight of his friend so frail and broken. His gaze swept over Viktor, taking in the gaunt features, the dark circles under his eyes, the tremble in his hand as he clung to the workbench. But as his gaze fell upon the blueprints scattered across the table, the guilt receded like a wave, replaced by a cold, hard resolve. This was where it all began.
"You should be asking yourself that question, Viktor..." He replied, voice hoarse from emotion. He took another step forward, the hammer dragging behind him, creating a menacing rhythm.
This is where you made your choice... where you condemned us all.
He’d stand before this version of his friend from the past, staring at him before he reached out a filthy hand to brush a stray strand of dark hair from Viktor's pale face, his touch gentle despite his appearance. "But don't worry... I'm here to fix it."
Viktor's eyes followed Jayce's hand as it reached out to brush away the loose strand of hair from his pale face. He was cold to the touch, sending a shiver down his spine. As his gold eyes met Jayce's, now tainted with an unnerving shade of determination, Viktor's heart sank into his stomach like a lead weight.
Jayce’s hand lingered for a moment longer than it should have, a ghost of affection haunting his fingertips.
I'm sorry... but I love you too much to let this happen. He thought, eyes flickering to the blueprints again before meeting Viktor's confused gaze.
"Do you remember what you told me, Viktor?" He asked, a dangerous edge creeping into his tone. "About the end justifying the means?"
He... he found out... about the Shimmer... The thought slithered its way into Viktor’s fogged mind. Panic surged through his veins, quickening the already erratic beat of his weak heart.
"J-Jayce..." he stuttered out, swallowing hard to wet his dry throat. "W-what are you talking about?" He tried to play ignorant, his voice trembling slightly. He knew that tone in Jayce's voice. He'd heard it many times before but never directed at him.
Did I make the right choice? He glanced down at his trembling hands, stained with oil and the occasional smear of dried blood. I only wanted more time... more time to find a cure... more time with you.
"Jayce, please... if you're angry at me, just tell me why," he pleaded, trying his best to hide the desperation lacing his words. His hands gripped the edge of his workbench even tighter, knuckles now white as chalk against the dark wood. He knew he couldn't argue in this state. He wasn't even sure he could stand up on his own two feet without collapsing again.
“Don’t play games with me, Viktor.” He growled; his voice was harsher than the Jayce Viktor knew. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. The Hexcore experiments… your desperation to cheat death.”
The irony… the one person I would die for, will be the death of us all.
His hand moved from Viktor’s face to grip his wrist, his grip surprisingly strong despite his gaunt appearance. His thumb traced the veins pulsing rapidly beneath the fragile skin.
“I saw what you became… what we all became.” Jayce whispered, the images of the future flashing behind his eyes, a grim reminder of what lay ahead if he failed his mission. He shook his head violently, trying to shake the visions off.
“You said it yourself, the end justifies the means… I’m just speeding up the process.” He snarled, pulling out the warped hammer with a metallic screech, the twisted tool gleaming under the dim light of the lab. “I’m saving us both from that failed future.”
"What are you talking about?" Viktor asked, voice shaking more now from fear than his illness. "What future? What have I done?"
Jayce’s grip tightened on Viktor’s wrist, pulling him closer and lifting him up to his level, their foreheads almost touching. The contrast between their copper skin and Viktor’s paleness was stark. Jayce’s gaze bore into his friend’s eyes, a mix of madness and sadness swirling within his irises.
A sharp gasp escaped Viktor's lips as Jayce's surprisingly strong grip clamped around his wrist, pulling him upwards. His frail body protested, a sharp pain shooting up his arm and settling in his shoulder. He winced, eyes closing involuntarily as a small whimper escaped him.
"Jayce... please... you're hurting me," he managed to breathe out, eyes watering slightly from the pain. Confusion clouded his gold irises as he looked up at his best friend, trying to find any trace of sanity in the storm that was his gaze.
“I’m sorry…” Jayce choked out, his voice cracking under the weight of the impending betrayal. He leaned in further, lips brushing against Viktor’s ear, his breath hot and uneven. “But you left me no choice.”
"Jayce, please... you're not making any sense," Viktor pleaded, reaching out his free hand to gently cup Jayce's cheek, hoping to ground him back to reality. "You're not yourself. You need rest... food... maybe you're having an episode?"
Jayce paused at the touch, his grip on the hammer loosening for a fraction of a second. Viktor's warmth seeped through the grime and filth on his face, momentarily grounding him in the present. He closed his eyes, savoring the familiarity of it all.
You're right, Viktor... I'm not myself anymore. He thought, sadly.
Viktor knew the man before him was not his Jayce. This was a broken shell of the man he had once known, consumed by something dark and twisted.
Opening his eyes again, Jayce let out a painful laugh, a harsh sound in the otherwise silent room.
"An episode? You think that's all this is?" He shook his head, a smile twisting his lips. "No, Viktor. I wish it was that simple."
Please, Jayce... please come back to me... Viktor's mind pleaded silently, his eyes pleading with Jayce's, begging him to see reason.
Jayce’s grip tightened on the hammer as he leaned back, pulling away from the comfort of Viktor's touch.
"This is your salvation, whether you see it or not." He declared, his voice rising in volume, echoing throughout the laboratory.
He raised the hammer, the weapon casting a menacing shadow over the blueprints on the table, a symbol of the destruction he was about to unleash.
"For both of us." He muttered, more to himself than to Viktor, before bringing it down with a sickening crack!
The table broke in two, shattering glass vials and crumpling the delicate parchment under its weight. Jayce found even himself surprised in his body’s split minute decision not to use the blow on Viktor.
The jarring sound made Viktor jump in fright, his heart skipping a painful beat in his chest. His eyes widened in horror as he watched the fruits of his labor scatter across the floor.
"Jayce!" He yelled, voice hoarse from emotion. "What are you doing?!"
He tried to pull away from Jayce's grip, but his weakened state only allowed him to sway slightly in place.
His eyes were filled with a mixture of fear, hurt, and confusion as he looked at the man he had considered his best friend.
"All of that... that was a month's worth of research!" Tears threatened to spill over, frustration and desperation clinging to his words like a desperate plea.
He wouldn't... he couldn't... Viktor's mind raced, trying to rationalize Jayce's actions. He knows how important this is... he knows I'm running out of time...
But the wild look in Jayce's eyes, the tense grip on the hammer, spoke otherwise. He had never seen this side of him before. This wasn't the Jayce he knew.
"Jayce, please... tell me what's wrong!" He begged, voice cracking as he tried to reach out to the friend he knew was still there, buried deep beneath the madness that clouded his gaze.
The plea in Viktor's voice struck a raw nerve within Jayce, one he thought had shriveled away in the ravine. The pained look on his face, the desperation in his eyes, it was all too much.
He could feel the apocalypse creeping at the edge of his vision, threatening to consume the lab, to consume Viktor, if he didn't continue with his mission. But the thought of being the one to break his heart, to be the reason for that defeated look in his eyes... it was a heavy burden to bear.
"I'm sorry..." He repeated, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. He closed his eyes, trying to steel himself. When he opened them again, the conflict was evident in the stormy gold depths.
"I... I can't do this!" He roared in frustration, releasing Viktor's wrist with a force that made him stumble backward. The scientist barely caught himself before he collapsed, wincing at the pain that shot up his arm.
Jayce turned away, gripping his head with both hands.
"I... I can't hurt you," he mumbled, his voice barely audible over the sound of his ragged breaths.
The apocalyptic visions grew more vivid, the world around him twisting into a distorted nightmare, urging him to finish what he started. But the sight of Viktor's broken expression etched itself into his mind, a shield against the madness.
With a primal yell, Jayce whirled around, his fractured mind unable to bear the torment any longer. He threw the warped hammer at the far wall, the weapon embedding itself into the metal with a deafening crash.
"I can't... but I must!" He screamed, his voice echoing throughout the lab, the sound of his own anguish reverberating back at him. He slumped to the floor, hands still gripping at his hair.
"What have you done to me?" He whispered more to himself than to Viktor.
What... what's happening to you, Jayce? Viktor's mind raced with worry and confusion as he watched his best friend crumble before him. The lab, once filled with the familiar hum of machines and the sound of their banter, now echoed only with Jayce's anguished cries.
Swallowing down his own fear, Viktor forced his trembling legs to carry him towards the fallen man. He knelt beside him, tentatively reaching out a shaking hand.
"Jayce... Jayce, please... talk to me." He pleaded, voice cracking with emotion.
When Jayce didn't respond, Viktor's grip on his arm tightened slightly, his desperation showing through the cracks of his usually composed exterior. "Please, Jayce... tell me what's wrong. We can figure this out together... like we always do."
He paused, his gaze lingering on the hammer embedded in the wall, then back to the broken man before him. "What... what did you mean by 'saving us from a failed future'? What have I done?"
His voice wavered, the weight of his own guilt settling heavy on his frail shoulders.
Did I push him too far? Did my desperation do this to him?
"Please, Jayce... please..." Viktor repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, the desperation in his tone palpable. He had never felt so helpless in his entire life.
You were always my anchor. Jayce thought bitterly, lifting his head to meet Viktor's gaze. The scientist looked so small like this, so fragile, kneeling beside him with fear and concern etched into every line of his face.
"I saw it," Jayce whispered, voice raw. "The future. Our future."
His fingers twitched, aching to reach out and brush away the worry from Viktor's brow, but he clenched them into fists instead. "You... you and the Hexcore. The way it twisted you. The way it destroyed everything."
Viktor's breath caught in his throat as Jayce spoke, his words painting a future so horrifying it made his already weak heart stutter.
The Hexcore... twisting me? Destroying everything? The thought alone sent a chill down his spine.
Jayce’s throat tightened as the memories surged forward—Viktor, but not Viktor, his body warped by the very thing he sought to control, his mind skewed beyond recognition. The destruction of Piltover around them. The weight of the hammer in his hands as he—
Jayce shuddered, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes as if he could scrub the images away.
"I was sent back," he admitted hoarsely. "To stop it. To stop you."
A broken laugh escaped him.
"But how can I?" His hands dropped, revealing the anguish in his expression as he stared at Viktor.
"How can I when you're you?" His voice cracked. "When I—"
When I love you. The words lodged in his throat, unspoken but screaming in the silence between them.
Jayce exhaled sharply, shoulders slumping.
"I don't know what to do," he confessed, the admission tearing from him like a wound. "I don't know how to save you without destroying you first."
Viktor’s grip on Jayce's arm tightened unconsciously, as if afraid he might vanish if he let go.
"Jayce," Viktor murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "I... I don't understand. Sent back? From the future?"
His mind raced, struggling to reconcile the broken man before him with the Jayce he knew—the Jayce who laughed too loudly in the lab, who nudged him to eat when he worked too long, who looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky.
But now, those same eyes held only grief and desperation.
Viktor swallowed hard, his free hand lifting shakily to Jayce's face, his thumb brushing away the dampness he found there.
Jayce's breath shuddered at the touch, Viktor's fingers cold but achingly familiar against his skin. The visions still clawed at the edges of his mind— the twisted metal limbs, the hollow gold eyes of the thing Viktor would become—but they were quieter now, drowned out by the warmth of the real Viktor before him.
"Jayce, listen to me," Viktor said, voice steadier now, firmer. "If what you're saying is true... if the Hexcore will do that to me— then help me."
His golden eyes burned with a quiet intensity.
"Don't destroy my work— guide me. You know me better than anyone. You know I would never want to become something monstrous." His voice wavered. "But I can't stop searching for a cure. Not when my body is failing me. Not when—"
Not when I want more time with you.
Viktor exhaled, shoulders slumping slightly.
"Please," he whispered. "Don't leave me to figure this out alone."
A small, tired smile tugged at his lips. "We've always been better together, haven't we?"
The words unraveled something in Jayce’s chest. For the first time since he'd been spat back into this timeline, the static in his mind stilled.
Jayce's breath hitched—then sharpened into something frustrated, almost angry.
Even now. Even knowing what it does to you— you still won't let it go.
He pulled away from Viktor's touch abruptly, his hands shaking as he pushed himself to his feet. The movement was unsteady, his body still wrecked from months in the ravine, but his gaze was fixed on the hammer lodged in the wall.
"You don't get it," Jayce muttered, voice low and rough. "You never get it."
He staggered forward, fingers curling around the hammer's handle with a white-knuckled grip. The metal groaned as he wrenched it free, the sound grating in the tense silence of the lab.
When he turned back to Viktor, his expression was torn—somewhere between fury and despair.
"Help you?" He repeated, voice rising. "You think I didn't try that? In every timeline, in every fucking version of this—"
Jayce’s grip tightened on the hammer. "You always choose it. The power. The control."
A bitter laugh escaped him. "And then you lose both."
He took a step forward, the weapon heavy in his hand. "So, no. I'm not helping you refine it." His voice dropped, raw. "I'm ending it."
But the hammer didn't lift. His arm trembled, the weight of it suddenly unbearable.
Look at him. Really look at him. Viktor was still on the floor, his thin frame hunched, his eyes wide with something between fear and heartbreak.
Jayce's breath left him in a rush.
Viktor’s silence was worse than any plea. The way he stared up at him—trembling, breath shallow, gold eyes glistening with something shattered—it carved into Jayce’s chest like a blade. His lips parted, but no words came.
I can’t look at him.
Jayce tore his gaze away, his grip on the hammer tightening until his knuckles screamed. The Hexcore pulsed across the lab, its eerie blue glow casting jagged shadows on the walls. It hummed, a sound like a living thing—like it was taunting him.
His breath came in ragged bursts as he turned, boots scraping against the floor. The hammer’s head began to crackle, energy spiraling up the twisted metal as he channeled raw magic into it. The air itself seemed to warp around the weapon, pressure building like a storm.
“This is the only way,” he growled, more to himself than to Viktor. The visions surged—Piltover in ruins, Viktor’s body warped beyond recognition, his own hands stained with blood that never washed off.
Viktor's body protested as he forced himself up, his legs trembling violently beneath him. His vision swam for a moment— whether from exhaustion, fear, or the sheer weight of what was happening, he didn't know. But he couldn't let this happen. Not like this.
With a desperate lurch, he stumbled forward, his frail form colliding against Jayce's back. His arms wrapped around his waist, clinging with what little strength he had left, his forehead pressing between Jayce's shoulder blades.
"Jayce, please," Viktor gasped, his voice breaking. "Don't—don't do this."
His fingers twisted into the fabric of Jayce's coat, gripping like it was the only thing tethering him to reality.
"I'm begging you."
His breath came in shallow, uneven bursts, his chest heaving against Jayce's back.
"If you destroy it now—if you take this from me—" His voice cracked, raw with terror. "I won't survive."
A shudder wracked his body.
"You know that. You know what this illness is doing to me." His grip tightened. "I don't want power. I don't want control. I just—"
His voice dropped to a whisper, ragged and broken.
"I just want to live."
The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Viktor didn't move, didn't loosen his hold—as if his very life depended on this moment, on Jayce's next choice.
And maybe it did.
Jayce's hands—usually so careful with him—shoved him back with a force that sent Viktor sprawling onto the lab floor. His elbows scraped against the metal grating, a sharp gasp escaping him as his already aching body protested.
Then the warmth of blood trickled over his lips.
He didn't need to touch it to know—his nose was bleeding again, the coppery tang filling his mouth as he stared up at Jayce, his vision blurring slightly at the edges. His chest heaved, his breath coming in shallow, uneven bursts.
And then—
"I love you."
The words spilled out before Viktor could stop them, raw and trembling. His voice was barely above a whisper, but it echoed in the sudden silence of the lab.
"That's why," Viktor choked out, his fingers curling weakly against the floor. "That's why I need to live. Not for the Hexcore. Not for power."
His gold eyes burned with a desperate, shattered honesty as blood dripped from his nose onto his shirt.
"Just... just to have time with you. To wake up next to you. To argue with you over breakfast. To—" He swallowed hard, his throat tight. "To live with you. Even if it's only for a little while longer."
A weak, broken laugh escaped him as he lifted a shaking hand to wipe at the blood, smearing it across his pale skin.
"Pathetic, isn't it?" he murmured, his voice barely audible. "All this... just because I couldn't bear the thought of leaving you behind."
He didn't try to stand. Didn't try to reach for Jayce again. He just sat there, small and frail and bleeding, his confession hanging between them like a plea—like a noose.
The words hit Jayce like a physical blow. The hammer's energy sputtered, flickering out as his arms dropped limply to his sides. His entire body locked up—muscles coiled tight, breath trapped in his lungs.
No. The denial roared through him, violent and instinctive. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. None of this was supposed to happen. He was here to stop the Hexcore. To stop Viktor.
But the man on the floor behind him wasn't the monster from his visions.
He was just Viktor.
His Viktor.
A Viktor with blood smeared across his lips, his shirt, his trembling fingers. A Viktor with his eyes—wide and gold and terrified—locked onto his like he was the only thing left in the world.
And Jayce—
Jayce broke.
The hammer clattered to the ground, the sound echoing through the lab like a gunshot. He didn't even feel his knees hit the grating as he collapsed in front of Viktor, hands flying up to cradle his face, his thumbs smearing the blood further in his desperation to wipe it away.
"Fuck," he choked out, voice raw. "Fuck, Viktor—"
Jayce’s hands shook, his entire body trembling as he pressed their foreheads together, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps.
"I can't," he whispered, the words cracking. "I can't lose you. Not again. Not ever."
His fingers curled into Viktor's hair, gripping tight like he could physically anchor him here, in this moment, in this life.
"I love you," he gasped, the confession ripped from somewhere deep in his chest. "Gods, I love you so much it's killing me—"
His voice broke.
And then he was kissing him, desperate and messy and perfect, his lips pressing against Viktor's with a bruising intensity, his hands still trembling where they cradled his face.
It wasn't gentle. It wasn't sweet.
It was theirs.
And for the first time since he'd been thrown back into this timeline, the visions stopped.
There was no apocalypse.
No warped metal limbs.
No hollow gold eyes.
Just Viktor.
His Viktor.
A broken noise escaped Viktor, something between a gasp and a sob, as his body went pliant against Jayce's. His hands, still smeared with his own blood, flew up to clutch at Jayce’s shoulders, fingers dug into the fabric like he was afraid he’d vanish if he didn’t hold on tight enough.
And when Jayce’s tongue slid against his lips—
Viktor yielded.
His mouth opened with a shaky exhale, letting Jayce in, letting him claim him in a way that sent fire racing through his veins. His grip tightened, nails biting into Jayce’s back through the layers of clothing, as if he could fuse them together right here on the lab floor.
Everywhere they touched burned—Jayce’s hands in his hair, Jayce’s lips against his, Jayce’s tongue sliding against his own in a desperate, hungry rhythm that left Viktor dizzy.
He could taste copper—blood, his own—mingling with the warmth of Jayce’s mouth, and it should have been bitter, should have been wrong, but it wasn’t.
It was perfect.
Viktor whimpered into the kiss, his body arching instinctively closer, his frail frame trembling not from weakness now, but from the sheer need coursing through him. His heart hammered against his ribs, his pulse roaring in his ears, his entire world narrowing down to the man holding him like he was something precious.
Something loved.
And for the first time in years—
Viktor believed it.
Jayce’s hands slid from Viktor’s face, down his neck, over his shoulders, mapping every inch of him like he was committing it to memory. His fingers dug into Viktor’s hips, dragging him closer, until there wasn’t a breath of space left between them.
He kissed him like he was drowning.
Like Viktor was the only thing keeping him alive.
And maybe he was.
When they finally broke apart, both gasping for air, Jayce didn’t let go. He pressed their foreheads together again, his breath hot against Viktor’s lips, his hands still gripping him like he might disappear.
“I’m not losing you,” he whispered, voice rough, raw. “Not to the Hexcore. Not to anything.”
His thumb brushed over Viktor’s bottom lip, smearing the blood there. “We’ll find another way.”
His voice cracked.
“Together.”
Viktor's breath came in ragged, uneven gasps, his entire body trembling as he clung to Jayce like a lifeline. His lips—still tingling from the bruising force of Jayce's kiss—parted slightly, his gold eyes wide and dazed as he stared up at the man who had just shattered his world and rebuilt it in the span of a single heartbeat.
Together.
The word echoed in his mind, a balm to the raw, bleeding edges of his fear.
A weak, disbelieving laugh escaped him, shaky and breathless. His fingers tightened in Jayce's coat, his grip desperate even now, as if he couldn't quite believe this was real.
"Together," Viktor repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, rough with emotion. He leaned into Jayce's touch, his forehead pressing harder against his, his eyes slipping shut for a moment as he exhaled—long and slow, like he was finally letting go of a weight he'd carried for years.
Then his eyes flickered open again, searching Jayce's face with a quiet intensity.
"But how?" he murmured, the question laced with equal parts hope and lingering fear. His thumb brushed over Jayce's knuckles, a silent plea. "If the Hexcore is as dangerous as you say—if it twists people—" His voice hitched. "What other choice do we have?"
There was no accusation in his tone. Only exhaustion. Only the quiet, desperate need for an answer—for a way out that didn't end with him dead or worse.
Jayce's breath shuddered as Viktor leaned into him, his grip tightening instinctively. The question hung between them—how?—and for a moment, the visions threatened to surge back. The twisted future, the ruined city, the hollow-eyed monster Viktor would become.
But then Viktor's thumb brushed his knuckles, soft and trusting, and the static in his mind cleared.
He exhaled sharply, his free hand lifting to cup Viktor's jaw, his thumb swiping gently at the blood on his chin.
"We burn it."
The words came out low, rough—but certain.
"Not just the Hexcore. All of it." His fingers tightened slightly. "The research. The notes. Every scrap of Shimmer-laced garbage that could lead you back to this path."
Viktor's breath caught in his throat, his fingers tightening reflexively in Jayce's coat as the weight of those words settled over him.
Burn it all.
The thought should have terrified him. The research, the notes—years of work, of sleepless nights, of desperate hope—gone in an instant.
But the way Jayce looked at him—like he was everything, like losing him wasn't an option—made something fragile and warm unfurl in Viktor's chest.
Jayce’s voice dropped, raw with conviction.
"And then we start over."
A beat.
"With me."
His thumb traced Viktor's cheekbone, his gaze locked onto his with a fierce intensity.
"No more locked doors. No more secrets. No more—" His voice cracked. "Dying alone in the dark."
He swallowed hard, his next words barely above a whisper.
"I'll be there. Every step. Every failure. Every breath."
His fingers curled into Viktor's hair, gripping gently.
"And if we can't find a cure—" His voice broke. "Then I'll carry you."
A ragged exhale.
"But we do it together. Or not at all."
The last meaning dark but clear.
The words hung in the air—a vow, a plea, a line in the sand.
If Viktor’s flame went out, then he’d burn out too.
A shaky exhale escaped Viktor, his lips trembling slightly as he leaned into Jayce's touch, his eyes glistening.
"...You would really do that?" he whispered, voice raw. "Throw away everything—just to start over with me?"
His throat tightened.
"Even if it means... even if we fail?"
The question hung between them, heavy with fear and something painfully hopeful.
Because Jayce wasn't just offering a solution.
He was offering himself.
And Viktor—
Viktor had spent so long believing he was destined to die alone, forgotten in the shadows of his own work.
But Jayce was here.
Holding him.
Choosing him.
Over everything else.
A weak, disbelieving laugh escaped him, wet and trembling as his fingers curled tighter into Jayce's coat.
"Idiot," he murmured, voice breaking. "You reckless, stubborn—"
He cut himself off with a shaky inhale, pressing his forehead against Jayce's shoulder as his body trembled—not from pain, not from fear, but from the sheer, overwhelming relief of it all.
"...Yes," he whispered finally, the word barely audible. "Yes. Okay."