Chapter Text
The shared lab was faintly glowing blue, messy, well-lived-in. Coffee from three days ago, still crusty in the cup, cluttered the workbench. It was often that Viktor found himself working late into the night, sipping from mugs that definitely needed a scrub down. Stifling a huff, he snapped another pencil tip on the parchment.
Familiar steps approached, followed by rough hands gripping the door handle. The door swung open, and Jayce stepped inside, the dim glow of hextech throwing his shadow long across the cluttered tables. Viktor didn’t look up from where he was hunched over his workbench, hand trembling as he sharpened yet another pencil with painstaking precision.
“You’re still here,” Jayce said, as though surprised, loosening his tie and tossing it carelessly onto a chair. His tone carried that edge of pride he couldn’t quite suppress — the confidence of a man who’d spent the evening people-pleasing and making decisions on behalf of Piltover.
Viktor’s thick accent cut through the lab. “Where else would I be, Jayce? Unlike you, I have no council dinners to attend, no speeches to deliver, no one's ass to kiss. Only the dream we started.”
Jayce frowned, slipping out of his blazer. “You make it sound like I abandoned it. Like I abandoned you. Everything I do out there is for us — for this.” He gestured wildly at the scattered blueprints.
“For this? For this!?” Viktor’s head snapped up, eyes blazing, exhaustion etched deep into his face. “You speak for me without asking. You decide for me as if my opinion no longer matters. Tell me, when was the last time you spent more than an hour in this lab? When was the last time you remembered this began with both of us?”
Jayce made a mental note of how Viktors' cheeks now resembled his carpenter's square; he bets it would be more accurate and have a lower percentile error.
Jayce stiffened, defensive heat rising in his chest. “Don’t act like I’m the enemy here. I’m carrying the weight of the council, of Piltover—”
“Yeah, while I carry the weight of a dying body,” Viktor cut him off, placing a trembling hand against the desk, using it to push off and stand. His voice rose, sharper than Jayce had heard in years. “And you, Jayce Talis, are blinded by your own arrogance to notice!”
His words echoed throughout the lab, and Viktor’s chest heaved. A brief look of shock graced his face before he stood a little taller. He meant every word; it has been eating at him for a while now.
“Vik I- “
Viktors expression faltered; he looked grey, his face looked strained “Jayce?”
He bent forward, hacking into his hand. Jayce froze, the fight draining from him as the cough deepened, tearing through Viktor’s body with a violence that didn’t stop.
“Viktor—” Jayce moved toward him, panic lacing his voice. But then Viktor’s cough turned wet, crimson spattering across the pale skin of his palm, dripping onto the scattered paper below. His knees buckled.
“Gods—no—V!” Jayce lunged, catching him just before he hit the floor, cradling him against his chest. The man in his arms was trembling, breath shallow, lips stained with blood.
“I thought—it was nothing…” Viktor rasped weakly, eyes fluttering shut.
“Don’t you dare,” Jayce’s voice cracked, raw with guilt as he pressed a hand against Viktor’s chest, trying to ground him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I should’ve been here, I should’ve—” His words tumbled over each other, desperate. He tilted his head towards the door, shouting hoarsely into the halls: “Somebody! Help! Please!”
Jayce muttered, just staring at Viktor, listening for footsteps and his ragged breathing. “One—Two—Three—that’s it—tha-that’s it”
Jayce’s fear fuelled counting, and the ragged sound of Viktor’s fading breaths filled the air. A few tears slid down Jayce’s face. He was useless as he screamed out for help.
Viktor’s head lolled against Jayce’s shoulder, his breath rattling, shallow and uneven. He tried — gods, he tried — to keep his eyes open, his fingers clutching weakly at Jayce’s shirt as though sheer stubbornness could tether him to here and now with Jayce.
“Stay with me, Vik, stay with me,” Jayce begged, his hands trembling as he cupped Viktor’s face, smearing blood across his cheek. “Don’t close your eyes, don’t you dare—”
But Viktor’s strength wavered. His body shuddered, and the faint spark of awareness in his gaze began to dull. His lips moved, forming words too soft to catch, before his eyelids fluttered shut and his hand slipped limply from Jayce’s chest, falling into his lap.
“No, no, no—!” Jayce’s panic spiked into terror. He shook him gently, as though he could force life back into him. “Viktor, wake up! Please—” His voice broke, desperation bleeding through any rational thought left.
Then Viktor’s eyes fluttered open — but they were glassy, unfocused, staring at nothing. Jayce’s stomach dropped, a cold dread washing over him.
“GUARDS!” Jayce’s roar shook the walls of the lab. “HELP! Somebody, ANYBODY!”
Boots and metal thundered down the hallway outside, seconds stretched into what seemed like hours. Jayce pressed Viktor tighter against him, rocking slightly as if to anchor him, voice ragged as he whispered over and over: “Don’t leave me. Don’t you dare leave me.”
The first guard burst through the doors, eyes widening at the sight. “Fetch a medic!” Jayce barked, his voice raw. “As fast as you can!”
As footsteps scrambled away, Jayce lowered his forehead to Viktor’s, clutching him close, refusing to let go. Every beat of silence between Viktor’s breaths felt like a knife twisting deeper into his chest.
“I'm such an idiot. You can call me that as much as you want, you just need to come back to me, V—just come back to me”
“Please,” he whispered again, to the man who had once been his partner in everything, to the fragile body in his arms. “I can’t do this without you.”
Jayce clutched Viktor against him, his heart hammering so hard it felt like it might split his chest. Every ragged second dragged like an eternity. Viktor’s skin was clammy beneath Jayce’s hands, his breath shallow and stuttering.
“Don’t do this to me,” Jayce whispered, his voice breaking. He brushed a shaking thumb over Viktor’s temple, as if grounding him by touch alone. “Not like this. You’re stronger than this; you have to be okay.”
For a heartbeat, Viktor’s fingers twitched weakly against Jayce’s shirt. Jayce seized on it, desperate. “That’s it. Stay with me. Look at me, Viktor.”
But Viktor didn’t respond. His eyes stayed glassy, half-lidded, breaths coming slower, weaker. A hot, sharp sensation clawed its way up Jayce’s throat. He pressed his forehead to Viktor’s, blood smearing between them, and rocked slightly, whispering hoarsely: “I should’ve been here. I should’ve seen it sooner. Please, forgive me—just—stay alive long enough to yell at me again.”
The lab door banged open, and two guards stumbled in, followed by a medic with a case of supplies. “Over here!” Jayce’s voice cracked as he looked up, eyes wild.
The medic dropped to their knees at Viktor’s side. “Lay him flat,” they ordered quickly. Jayce hesitated, holding Viktor tighter, then forced himself to lower him onto the cold lab floor, still kneeling close, one hand gripping Viktor’s limp one as though letting go would break him entirely.
The medic worked fast, pulling out various instruments, checking Viktor’s pulse, and wiping the blood from his mouth. She checked his airways, and even the professional made a face that even Jayce couldn’t miss.
Jayce hovered, his breath shallow and uneven He felt hot, like he was about to meet the same cruel fate on the floor.
He snapped at the guards when they tried to move him from the scene.
“Don’t touch me—don’t touch him!” His voice was raw, almost feral, but his grip on Viktor’s hand was fragile, pleading. “If he goes, I go with him.”
The medic didn’t look up, their tone calm but urgent. “He’s critical. Councillor Talis, if we don’t move him to a proper ward immediately, he won’t last.”
Jayce swallowed hard, staring down at Viktor’s pale face. Slowly, he nodded, though his hand refused to release Viktor’s. “Then I’m going with him. Every step.”
The guards exchanged a glance, but none dared argue.
As they lifted Viktor onto a stretcher, Jayce stayed locked at his side, his hand never leaving Viktor’s, his voice a quiet, desperate mantra: “Hold on. Please, just hold on.”