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Jayce’s hand stayed clasped tightly around Viktor’s. They came together, foreheads pressed together, Jayce keeping Viktor close with a hand on his neck. Viktor grasped at Jayce’s arm, closing his eyes tight and preparing for the end.
At least, he thought, he wasn’t alone. Selfishly, he was glad that Jayce was there, with him, at the end of it all.
The light was blinding, there was an energy coursing from the rune in their hands, almost feeling like an explosion. Pulling them into the void, bringing an end to all the destruction and chaos.
When Viktor felt Jayce’s hands slip away from him, panic spread through him. He reached out but his hands found nothing but empty space.
He opened his eyes.
Waking up to the sounds of birds chirping was something that Viktor was still getting used to. There weren’t many morning birds in Piltover, and they were completely nonexistent in Zaun. Listening to birdsong as he roused slowly from sleep was quickly becoming something he treasured, something he was grateful for, grateful that he lived long enough to hear them.
Viktor was too used to waking up to silence, in a quiet, still, lonely bed, in his quiet, still, lonely apartment. Or, as it eventually became, waking up to pain in his spine after falling asleep over his work desk in the lab.
Now, though, there was warmth at his back, arms around his waist, and gentle breaths ruffling the hair at the back of his neck.
Jayce slept peacefully, light snores and gentle snuffles as he nuzzled against Viktor’s hair. He used to be a heavy sleeper; there were several times in the lab when Viktor would knock a large pile of tomes over, accidentally cause a small explosion, or drop something, and Jayce would remain snoring, comfortably sprawled out on the couch.
Now, though, Viktor knew that if he moved, Jayce would be awake in an instant. Jayce had become a light sleeper, just like Viktor.
Sometimes when Viktor jolted awake from some dream or nightmare (really, more like memories, playing and replaying through his head), he would pretend to remain asleep if he felt Jayce stir. He would let Jayce look around, see that everything seemed safe, and drift back off to sleep.
If Viktor woke up screaming, it was harder to pretend.
Once, Viktor had woken up with Jayce hovering over him, holding his wrists down to the bed. Viktor was trembling, and noticed Jayce’s split lip, the blood beading and threatening to fall; he noticed the red, irritated skin around Jayce’s throat. He noticed how Jayce didn’t look at him with hatred, like he deserved. Jayce looked at him with love, concern, understanding, patience.
It was devastating.
Jayce had nightmares too. Sometimes Viktor would awaken to sounds of pain, the other man whimpering or crying in his sleep. Or, Viktor would wake up to Jayce’s panicked shout, the other man disoriented and confused.
Viktor was always able to bring him back with gentle hands on his face, soft words, soothing him until his eyes finally focused back into the present.
There was a bird just outside the window. Viktor wasn’t sure what kind it was. The birdsong was sweet, the bird’s feathers a vibrant red, standing out against the background of trees that surrounded their little cabin.
It had been a month to the day since Viktor had opened his eyes and found himself in a field. The last thing he’d remembered was Jayce, pressing their foreheads together, their hands clasped around the rune as everything unraveled.
The bird flew away, taking its song with it.
A gentle kiss pressed to Viktor’s shoulder was the only indication he had that Jayce had woken up. Then a kiss pressed to the base of his throat, then behind his ear. “Good morning, love.”
Love.
A lot had changed recently.
“Did you sleep well?” Viktor turned in Jayce’s arms.
“Mhm,” Jayce smiled softly, a kiss pressed to Viktor’s forehead. “What’s on your mind?”
Viktor let out a sigh, tucking his head under Jayce’s chin. “It’s nothing.”
Jayce didn’t push the matter. He ran a hand over Viktor’s spine, his fingers moving over the bumps of his bones.
Viktor opened his eyes and found himself staring up at a blue sky, white, fluffy clouds passing slowly. Grass tickled his arms and legs as a gentle breeze ruffled through.
For a brief moment, Viktor wondered if this was the afterlife. Surely he’d died.
But he didn’t deserve such a beautiful death.
He sat himself up, and realised he was wrapped up in the blue-red blanket he’d been using as his robes. That damned blanket, that he just couldn’t part with.
The field was quiet.
Viktor’s skin was pale once more, but evidence of the Arcane ran up his arms and legs, glittering in the sunlight. He could feel his hair brushing around his shoulders, still longer than he’d ever had it before.
He tried to stand, but his right leg gave way and he crashed back into the (blessedly soft) grass. Viktor looked down and was greeted by the familiar twist of his leg, no longer augmented by the Hexcore.
Viktor heard something then, a voice on the breeze, so gentle he thought he imagined it.
“...tor!”
“...Viktor!”
“Viktor!!”
“Viktor?”
Jayce brushed some hair behind Viktor’s ear gently. “What is it?”
Viktor managed a smile, but it felt thin and forced. “It’s just…one of those mornings.”
He didn’t have to explain himself any further. Jayce understood.
“Are you hungry?” Jayce asked.
“Mh,” Viktor nodded. There was such a long period of time, after he’d emerged from the safety of the Hexcore, where his body stopped feeling anything. He couldn’t feel cold or warm, he couldn’t feel when Jayce had hugged him so, so tightly. He didn’t get hungry. It was an adjustment, the first time he’d felt hunger again, he’d almost forgotten what it felt like.
“Let’s get up, I can make us something.”
Viktor’s hair was a mess, coming loose from the braid he always wore to bed. He pulled the hair tie out so he could run his fingers through, snagging on knots and tangles and pulling just a little too hard. Jayce had climbed out of the bed and pulled a t-shirt on before taking Viktor’s cane and handing it to him.
They made their way to the kitchen, Viktor taking a seat at the small table while Jayce looked through their supplies.
Viktor was knocked back by the sheer force of Jayce’s embrace. He was gripping Viktor tightly, as if afraid he would dissolve and disappear if let go.
“J-Jayce?”
Jayce pulled away, just to bring his hands up to Viktor’s face, thumbs tracing over his cheekbones. Jayce looked at him with the same endless adoration he had back in the astral plane, when he’d pulled Viktor close. Evidence of the Arcane was visible on him too, on his forehead, and what Viktor could see of his left wrist.
When Jayce kissed Viktor, hard and desperate and fueled by raw emotion, Viktor wished he could say he kissed back. He wished he could say he threw his arms around Jayce and they lay there in the grass, uninterrupted, passionately kissing until the sun set.
Instead, Viktor had cried. Not dainty, sweet tears that filled his eyes and gently slipped down his cheeks, no; they were deep, ugly sobs that wracked through his chest, pulling away from Jayce and curling in on himself. Viktor pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, covering his face, as everything came crashing down on him.
Jayce, sweet, gentle, patient, perfect Jayce, had wrapped his arms around the broken, sobbing man, and held him. Just held him, tightly, protectively.
Ever since he’d met Jayce, Viktor had wanted him. Longed for him. Yearned for him. But he never made any moves, Hextech was too important and fragile to risk them falling out over such a thing. But then Hextech had become stronger, stable, and Viktor realised he’d waited too long.
He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve Jayce’s forgiveness, he didn’t deserve Jayce.
Viktor’s throat and chest ached from the weight of his sobbing.
“We’ll have to go to town soon,” Jayce said, pulling out what he needed to make some breakfast.
“There’s a market tomorrow,” Viktor replied. “Apparently it’s an annual thing.”
“That sounds perfect,” Jayce grinned.
Their cabin was surrounded by trees, with a single path that led out to the main road. The nearby town was only a half-hour walk down the path; it was a small place, the sort where everyone knew everyone else. They’d been welcoming to Jayce and Viktor, though, even though neither of them had any money.
There was an old man who owned the cabin previously, but it had fallen into disrepair. He made a deal with them: they could have the cabin, free of charge, if they fixed it up themselves. He’d help them with supplies, at least at first, while they figured out their place.
Word spread quickly about Jayce and Viktor’s skills, and they found odd jobs helping folks with repairs and any other project brought to them. Between that and the cabin repairs, it had kept them busy, given them something to do. It had endeared them to the townsfolk as well.
The cabin still needed some work. The roof had been their first project, and that had gone smoothly, now completely patched up. They’d cleared out the kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, and most of the living room. There was still another room they were going to designate as the study, and Viktor had taken a liking to reviving the garden, since there was only so much heavy lifting he could do.
When Viktor found himself back in his own body again, it seemed the Arcane had decided to rid him of his illness and most of his back pain. His leg had returned to how it had always been, and the strain it caused his back was still there, but nowhere near as bad as it had been.
Jayce would sometimes wear his leg brace too, when his left leg was too painful to go without it.
They were changed.
Jayce had that shimmering Arcane webbing on his forehead, from where Viktor’s fingers had sunk in, resembling his fingerprints. Jayce’s left wrist was covered, the Arcane patterns spreading from where the rune had previously sat, now gone, leaving what looked like an old wound, a healed gash that once ran deep. They had discovered the touch of the Arcane along Jayce’s injured leg, but that was all.
Viktor was much worse off, he discovered.
There was a scar that ran vertically down his forehead and along the bridge of his nose. He was blind in his right eye. Another scar sat in the centre of his chest, a large starburst, painfully noticeable against his pale skin. Jayce had wept when he saw it for the first time.
The Arcane was evident everywhere. Over his blinded eye, up his arms, down his legs, around his spine. He was human, but there were often times when he didn’t feel like it. Viktor had avoided his reflection most of his life, and now, he almost asked Jayce to remove all the mirrors from their home.
Just so he didn’t have to see.
The weather was cool that day. Viktor wasn’t sure what month it was, or even what year. After a few weeks they’d determined they were still on Runeterra, but Piltover was a distant place that the townsfolk said was simply too far away to even think about.
Viktor hadn’t left anyone behind. He had no family, the only person who mattered to him anymore was Jayce.
The garden was beginning to come back to life, slowly. What had previously been a mess of weeds and dead plants was now covered with new growth, green and living once more. Viktor was pleased with his efforts, having no real experience with plants, outside of those augmented by the Arcane.
There was a swing chair on the porch that Jayce had fixed up during their second week. It was comfortable and could fit them both, and if Viktor slid himself all the way back against the cushion, his feet barely brushed the ground.
He was sitting there that morning, a mug of tea in his hands, swinging gently with a blanket draped over his legs. There was a hammering sound from inside, muffled by the closed doors, where Jayce was working on something.
Viktor enjoyed being outside. The air was clear and clean and didn’t hurt to breathe in. There were more than birds, there were all kinds of wildlife that Viktor was cataloguing in a journal, from squirrels and chipmunks to ants and dragonflies. All beautiful, all natural, all different from the polluted streets of Zaun and the artificial parks of Piltover.
He took a sip of his tea.
It was beautiful. It was perfect. A life that he could share with Jayce, far from prying eyes and judgemental stares, a life where no-one knew them. Where they could start over.
“You do not need to stay with me.”
“What?”
“Jayce,” Viktor’s voice caught in his throat. He wanted Jayce to stay, he wanted to be selfish and keep him all to himself. “You have people missing you. Your mother, Caitlyn, Piltover…Mel.”
Calloused hands came to hold Viktor’s, which looked small compared to Jayce’s.
“Viktor, look at me.”
Viktor squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head, desperately trying to keep the tears away.
“Viktor, mi amor, please,” Jayce pressed their foreheads together. “I am never leaving you, never again. I’m staying right here, with you. Forever.”
He didn’t realise he was crying until a tear fell on his hand.
“¿Corazón?”
Viktor quickly rubbed at his eyes as Jayce came to sit next to him.
“I’m fine,” he sounded unconvincing even to his own ears. He didn’t fight it when Jayce pulled him in, an arm around his shoulders to keep him close. “I’m sorry.”
“What’s going on, love?”
“It’s been a month,” Viktor said. “A whole month.”
Jayce was quiet. He rest his head on Viktor’s, his thumb gently rubbing against his shoulder. They listened to the sounds of the birds, the running water of the nearby stream, the wind rustling through the leaves.
They both had bad days, but Viktor tried hard to keep his buried deep down. To keep smiling for Jayce, so he didn’t worry or fret. Jayce was more observant than that, though, always managing to pull it out of him. Viktor didn’t think he deserved it. He had made mistakes, irreversible mistakes, that did not deserve forgiving.
He could almost picture the posters and statues in Piltover, of their beloved Man of Progress beating down the evil that threatened them. Images of Viktor, morphed beyond humanity or recognition, dead at Jayce’s feet.
The people would mourn Jayce, but they would celebrate Viktor’s death.
“There is nothing left in Piltover for me,” Jayce said. “All I want now is you.”
“It feels so long ago,” Jayce said. “Hard to believe it’s only been a month.”
“I am glad you’re here,” Viktor whispered, his hands trembling against his mug.
“I promised you, I’m not going anywhere,” Jayce pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Te amo, Viktor.”
“Miluju tě,” Viktor moved so he could look up at Jayce, meeting his eyes.
“I should be dead. I deserve to be dead. I was supposed to die, again and again and again and–”
“Viktor, please, look at me.”
Jayce’s grip tightened on Viktor’s wrists, holding him in place to stop him from scratching at himself. He’d made himself bleed after clawing at himself, as if trying to erase the evidence of the Arcane along his arms, blood pooling and slowly trailing down his arms, drying underneath his nails.
“The rune should have killed me, you should have killed me, the explosion, my illness, I’m not supposed to be alive–”
Viktor was shaking, tears blurring his vision, his lungs hurt from trying to breathe. It was another nightmare, another reminder of everything he’d done wrong. Jayce had found him on the bathroom floor, scratching and clawing at himself after throwing up into the sink.
“Don’t say that, corazón, please,” Jayce’s voice cracked, pulling louder sobs from deep within Viktor’s chest.
Viktor’s head hurt, pounding with an oncoming headache. He knew it was a headache, only a headache, but his throat restricted at the thought of his face once again splitting along that scar, transforming into someone unrecognisable-–
“Kill me,” Viktor didn’t know what he was saying. “Kill me before I hurt you again, please, I’m supposed to be dead—”
Jayce pulled him close, practically crushing the smaller man against his chest. Viktor could feel the other man’s tears against his shoulder, where Jayce lay his head. He was making Jayce cry, he was a terrible person, a selfish, horrible, awful person.
“Breathe,” Jayce said, softly. “Copy my breathing.”
Jayce was shaking, almost as badly as Viktor.
He wasn’t sure how long it took for him to calm down. Viktor was still crying, his head still hurting.
“I got blood on you,” Viktor said, his tone tired and miserable.
“Let’s clean you up,” Jayce kissed his forehead.
It was evening, and Viktor was working on the garden. He pulled up weeds and tossed them into a pile to add to the compost later. Jayce was working on the small brick building that was on their property, determined to convert it into a forge.
Jayce hadn’t wanted to leave Viktor alone after finding him crying that morning, but Viktor had soothed him and told him it was fine. He was fine.
He wasn’t, and Jayce knew that, because neither of them were fine.
They would be, Jayce often reassured him.
The weeds all removed, Viktor sat back in the grass and watched the last remaining rays of sunlight as they disappeared below the trees. The chirping of insects and frogs filled the air, the leaves rustling gently in the slow breeze.
Viktor pulled his knees to his chest, resting his chin on them, as he continued to watch the world around him. Tomorrow, he and Jayce would walk down to the village to stock up on the supplies they needed, and deliver some of the finished projects they’d been commissioned to do. It had been an emotionally draining day, and Viktor would plan on getting off to bed early, if he thought it would make a difference.
He heard the sounds of footsteps in the grass, and Jayce sat down next to him. Viktor leaned close, laying his head against Jayce’s shoulder, as an arm came up around his slim waist.
Viktor reached for Jayce’s left hand, moving it closer and pushing the sleeve up to reveal the mess of arcane webbing that extended from his wrist. It caught in the low light, shimmering with otherworldly iridescence, beautiful against Jayce’s skin. He thought it looked better on Jayce than it did on himself.
He ran his fingers over the empty space where the rune used to sit, the skin smooth and flat despite the patterns. “Do you ever miss it?”
“Sometimes,” Jayce replied, his head resting against the top of Viktor’s. “But only because it’s strange that it’s gone, after having it most of my life.”
Viktor released Jayce’s wrist, curling further against the bigger man, into his warmth.
“Besides, I don’t need it anymore,” Jayce ran his fingers through Viktor’s hair. “I have everything I need right here,” he added, pressing a kiss to Viktor’s forehead.
Viktor looked up at him, meeting his eyes. Jayce always looked at him like he hung the very stars in the sky, like Viktor was the single most beautiful creature he had ever seen. It scared Viktor, sometimes, but he knew Jayce’s love matched the depth of his own adoration for the other man, both of them inextricably intertwined.
Jayce leaned down to kiss Viktor properly, a soft press of lips, slow and unhurried.
They were both haunted, and likely would be forever. But, they had each other, they had time, they had this second chance.
They weren’t okay, but they would be.
Together.