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The scent of dust and smog still haunted her. However, this wasn’t an unwelcome feeling to Vi. It brought a wave of nostalgia and fondness. But yet again, only someone born in the murkiest of waters would call the toxins comforting. It was always that particular scene of stale air and alcohol that brought her back. It reminded her of the days where Vander and dad were manning the Last Drop, mom was cutting her and Powder’s hair, and a faceless man wrote on a notebook in the back booth.
As she adjusted to the new, luminous city of Piltover; that memory started releasing its grip on her. The stale air was replaced with the smell of fresh paint and cement. New flowers and plants were being grown and imported, allowing the flora to recover. It was quieter than it was before, as if the moment of silence for those who were lost extended eternally. The war left quite an impact on the City of Progress.
Right… The war.
Vi could’ve lied and said that she was recovering from it all. It’s just that all her life has been spent on moving on. Every day was either spent mourning, recovering or fighting. The girl hasn’t been able to act her age since she turned thirteen. She couldn’t allow herself to go through that again... Not after she lost the very reason she was looking forward to the next day.
Her vocal cords were still healing from losing Jinx. The worst part was that this time it was for good. She wouldn’t blend into her followers after her terrorist act against the Piltover Council, but instead her name would blend into everyone else’s at the memorial. The paper being burned didn’t help at all. Maybe now mom and dad could see how Powder grew. What if they were waiting for her now? What if Vander was there too and not as that…beast.
But one blue haired girl turned into another. Suddenly Vi realized that she didn’t have to be alone after her family was lost. She had someone that loved her and cherished her in every way Vi had ever dreamed of right next to her. When Caitlyn held the hands that were once used to defend herself in a steel box, with a gentleness that only the most delicate of flowers hold, Vi realized that maybe... Just maybe the days of fighting for her life were over. Never in her life was her mental health finally prioritized over her physical health. Never has the burden of having to look for everyone been lifted off her shoulders.
Joining the people who took everyone she ever cared for away from them felt traitorous. Even after the war, she couldn’t look at the gauntlets without feeling nauseous. It felt like she failed at every aspect in her life. What does one do when the provider can’t provide? Are you still a provider? It was going to take a while until she could hold that golden badge with honor again.
The fireplace was Vi’s safe space. It seemed like the only place that could replicate the Last Drop’s warmth from when Vander was manning it. The hours, even days spent on an ottoman near the flame in a row seemed never-ending. Grief is funny. Your body puts you in a state where you’re sensitive to every mention of the people you’re missing while actively seeking the comfort from when they were there. Vi wondered if Jinx ever did the same thing. Did the neon lighting ever grow tiresome? Was the man who tore them apart’s presence enough for her? Did she feel relief when Vander came back? There were too many questions a piece of paper, or a picture or a stuffed animal couldn’t answer.
Ekko was right though. This train of thinking was a good way to drive herself crazy. Vi needed to take her mind out of it until she could come to terms with it. Caitlyn was understanding, loving and she actually listened. They would spend the nights with words of affirmation or tracing the scars they got from the war. Cait was insecure about her eye, and she was still coming to terms with being blind. Vi’s recovering vocal cords didn’t allow her to comfort Cait in the way she needed, so she just traced and kissed beneath the scar.
“It’s hideous.” The woman mumbled in response to Vi’s affection. Her tone was soft, clearly not wanting to repeat her past actions. She understands firsthand the grieving Vi felt for her sister. Afterall, she wasn’t the only one mourning a sibling. Jayce disappearing left a hole inside of Caitlyn as well. The person she grew up with just vanished without a trace. No amount of search parties conceiving the results she longed for. The thing is that this time, she knew how to fill that emptiness. She knew not to let that grief take over her like it did before.
Vi took Caitlyn’s hand and squeezed it gently, almost mimicking the woman’s tone of voice in her action. A squeeze meant reassurance, a show of affection or a simple “I love you”. It worked as a solution until the woman’s voice returned. Caitlyn’s insecurity seemed to melt away just for this moment. Their eyes filled with so much adoration, their bodies soft against each other’s. Vi shook her head no. Nothing could ever be hideous if it came from you.
Everything that happened…Every scar they’ve inflicted upon each other, physical or mental, was healing at the same pace they were. So many people lost, so much pain in this little world they lived in. And in the end, beneath all that rubble, there was still us. Vi knew that after this they could never live without loving each other. There was trust, there was still an us.