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The first thing that Viktor noticed when he awoke was how quiet everything was. All he heard was the ringing in his own ears, every other sound noticeably absent.
The second thing he noticed was how cold he was.
Both facts led Viktor to a single conclusion: Jayce was not in bed.
Viktor rolled onto his back and stretched his arms over his head, letting out a small grunt as his shoulders clicked. Opening his eyes, he was surprised to see it was not yet morning—the room was dark, the only light filtering in through the windows from the full moon outside, muted and sometimes covered by the clouds.
Jayce’s side of the bed was cold, so he’d been gone for some time. Sitting up, Viktor quickly scanned the bedroom, but he saw nothing out of place. Slipping out of bed and pulling on a robe, Viktor was tying it around his waist when he noticed something through the window.
It was snowing.
It was their first winter in their new home, and the townsfolk had warned them to stock up in case the snow piled up and prevented them from leaving their cabin. Jayce had perhaps gone a little overboard with stocking up, but Viktor couldn’t blame him.
The townsfolk said that their winters could be brutal; not that they had a lot of blizzards or dangerous storms, but the snow tended to pile up and the temperatures dropped dramatically.
Viktor made his way out of the bedroom, finding the rest of the cabin as dark and quiet as the bedroom. He strained his ears, trying to hear over the persistent ringing, trying to hear any movement that might give away where his partner might have gone.
The house was empty, so Viktor made his way up to the front door. He pulled it open carefully, bracing himself against the cold air that flooded in, pulling his robe around himself tighter.
Much to his relief, Jayce was in fact out there. They had a covered porch at the front of the cabin, where a swinging wooden bench hung from sturdy chains. Jayce didn’t move when Viktor closed the front door behind him.
Jayce was staring blankly into the distance, his mind seemingly miles away. He was wearing a few layers to keep himself warm, along with a blanket around his shoulders, but the cold nipped at the tip of his nose and his ears.
“Jayce?”
Viktor walked over to the bench, watching the other man carefully. When Jayce moved to look at Viktor, his movements were slow, as if he was coming up from a dream. His gaze still seemed distant, but he frowned slightly when Viktor sat beside him.
“What are you doing out here? It’s cold,” Jayce said, lifting his arm to invite Viktor under the blanket. Viktor moved and curled into Jayce’s side, the other man’s arm coming to rest on his waist.
“I could say the same to you,” Viktor pulled his knees up to his chest, hiding everything from his chin down underneath the blanket. Jayce was like a furnace next to him, comforting and solid. “What time is it?”
“Not sure,” Jayce replied. “Probably about…two?”
Viktor shifted so he could look up at his partner, studying his profile. Jayce’s brows were furrowed and his mouth held in a tight line, his eyes distant and glazed. “What is it, Jayce?”
“Huh?” Jayce looked down at him. “What is what?”
“What’s on your mind?”
“It’s nothing, I just,” he sniffed, looking back out at the snow. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Jayce,” Viktor sighed, resting his head on Jayce’s shoulder. “Please do not lie to me.”
Silence fell between them, any sound swallowed by the fluffy snow that blanketed the landscape around their isolated home. Viktor couldn’t hear the sounds of the stream he knew lay just beyond the trees, and he wondered vaguely if it had frozen.
Jayce’s thumb was rubbing against Viktor’s waist where his hand lay, and it reminded Viktor of how his partner would fidget with the runestone he used to wear. It was gone now, all that remained was a mess of arcane webbing along Jayce’s left wrist.
“I suppose…the snow just brought up a few things,” Jayce finally said, after long enough that Viktor didn’t think he was going to get a response. “It never snowed like this in Piltover, so it’s…been a while.”
Viktor looked away from Jayce, looking to the sky as the clouds momentarily allowed the moonlight through.
“Ever since I was a child, all I wanted was to help people,” he continued. “But I…instead just kept making one mistake after another. All I ended up doing was hurting the people.”
“That’s not true,” Viktor looked back up at him. “You’ve helped a lot of people.”
“With what? Maintaining trade treaties, boosting commerce?” Jayce laughed, a bitter, cold sounding thing. “What was the point of it all?”
“Piltover’s failure is not your fault, lásko,” Viktor replied.
“I still should have done more,” Jayce continued. “Fought back, tried harder, something to…actually make a difference. None of this would have happened if we’d just been allowed to do what was truly important, instead of being chained to the Council’s whims.”
This was the most Viktor had ever heard Jayce talk about how things had been before, and Viktor was pretty certain this was the first time Jayce had directly mentioned the Council.
“If I’d just—if we’d just been able to do it the way we wanted to, maybe things would have been different,” Jayce was still rambling on.
“We cannot know that,” Viktor said. “All we can know is how things did happen. And there were more factors at play, Jayce, there were so many variables. Thinking about the ‘what if’ of it all is just going to make you feel worse.”
“I can still feel your blood on my hands,” Jayce’s voice was quiet, tense. “Sometimes, when I hold you, I swear I can feel where your spine was snapped in half. I have nightmares, seeing your—your body, unmoving, and I’m helpless to do anything to help you—”
“Hey, hey, lásko,” Viktor moved, gently moving Jayce to look at him, but the other man avoided meeting his eyes. “Shh, it’s okay, miláčku, I’m right here.”
Jayce closed his eyes, leaning into Viktor’s palm on his cheek. “Every scar you bear is my fault.”
“That is not true,” Viktor asserted. “And if you’re going to argue with me about that, I could easily say the same thing about the marks you carry being my fault.”
Jayce didn’t reply, his eyes still shut, but he moved one hand up to rest atop Viktor’s where it stayed cupping his cheek. His breathing was tense and uneven, and as he frowned, Viktor knew he was trying to hold back tears.
“We both made mistakes, Jayce,” Viktor said. “But there is no changing what has been done. All we can do is learn from it and move forward.”
Jayce opened his eyes, tears finally overflowing and running down his cheeks. He didn’t cry often, and every single time it completely broke Viktor’s heart. Leaning closer, Viktor peppered kisses over the other man’s face, as if trying to kiss the tears away.
“I love you, Jayce,” Viktor continued. “My wonderful, brilliant Jayce. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, and I do not blame you for a single thing.”
Viktor pulled him closer, pressing their foreheads together. “So please, do not blame yourself.”
“I’m sorry,” Jayce sighed.
“There is nothing to apologise for,” Viktor leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Please come back inside, where it’s warm.”
“In a moment, if…that’s okay,” Jayce wrapped both of his arms around Viktor and pulled him closer. “I just want to stay like this for a bit.”
“That is okay, but I will freeze before long,” Viktor pulled the blanket around himself tighter, trying to lighten the mood a little. He was warm and comfortable beside Jayce, but he knew they would both be warmer and more comfortable inside, in bed.
Jayce huffed out a small laugh, accompanied by a genuine smile. “I’ll keep you warm, amor.”
Jayce rested his head atop Viktor’s, and the two watched the snow falling. The silence and warmth was lulling Viktor back to sleep, no matter how hard he tried to keep his eyes open.
“I love you too, Viktor,” Jayce said after a moment. “I…cannot imagine my life without you.”
Viktor nuzzled under Jayce’s jaw, humming softly in reply. He was going to say something and actually verbally respond, but he was so very tired. He felt himself relaxing, Jayce’s arms strong around him and holding him securely.
Slowly, he drifted off to sleep.
—
When Viktor opened his eyes, he was laid down on the bench. It was cold, and he quickly spotted Jayce leaning against the railing just opposite where the swing was, staring out into the distance once more. With a yawn, Viktor sat up, rubbing at his eyes.
“Jayce?”
“You were right,” Jayce said, but his voice sounded…wrong. It sounded like him, but it was too deep, too coarse. “Nothing that happened was my fault.”
Viktor pulled the blanket around himself and pushed himself to his feet, walking to stand next to Jayce. He’d left his cane inside, and the cold was beginning to settle in his bones, sending aches throughout his body.
“It was your fault.”
Viktor blinked, turning slowly to look up at Jayce.
The other man kept looking out into the distance. “From the beginning. You gave me the runestone, you gave me the idea for Hextech.”
“Jayce, that wasn’t technically me, you know that—”
“It doesn’t matter,” Jayce spat, interrupting him. “If you hadn’t pushed the Hexcore as far as you did, if you hadn’t turned to Shimmer, you—you’re the one who became a monster. You almost killed everyone, and that other version of you succeeded.”
Viktor was trembling, but it had nothing to do with the cold. Jayce finally turned to look at him, the glare on the other man’s face identical to how he’d looked at Viktor during their fight in the council room, and during their final fight in the Hexgates. Hatred, anger, determination.
“You should have stayed dead,” Jayce continued, taking a step forward, making Viktor stumble back. “Either from the explosion, or when I shot you. If you had just died, none of this would have happened.”
“J-Jayce, I-I don’t—w-what are you—”
“I don’t know why I’m even here,” he said, making his way to the door. “Why would the arcane give someone like you a second chance, after everyone you killed?”
Viktor’s voice was trapped in his throat, unable to form words to reply. He could feel tears freezing against his face as he stood in shock, Jayce’s words echoing through him.
“I’m leaving in the morning,” Jayce grunted. “I’m going home.”
He walked inside and slammed the door, and Viktor felt a pang of anxiety when he heard the lock click.
“W-wait—,” Viktor tried the doorknob, but it was locked. He banged his fists against the wood. “Jayce! You can’t lock me out here! Jayce!!”
There was no response, and Viktor choked on a sob, leaning his forehead against the door. What was going on?!
He pulled the blanket tighter around himself and turned around, considering his options. The shed would be better than nothing, he supposed.
Except, when he turned around, he wasn’t facing trees covered in snow and a cloudy sky.
Everything was dark, completely pitch black, as if he was now surrounded by a void. On shaking legs, Viktor carefully stepped down from the porch, finding a solid surface beneath his feet. He took a few steps before turning around to the cabin, but now that too was gone.
The blanket shifted and fell off his shoulder, and when Viktor lifted a hand to adjust it, he caught sight of a gleam of gold that pulled his attention away from the endless void.
His hand was a dark gray-purple, lined with golden embellishments. He looked down at himself, finding his entire body that way, the blanket and any clothing he had been wearing now gone.
“No,” he whispered to himself, stumbling on unsteady legs. He looked around, desperate for something, anything.
Something warm trickled down his face. He found it started just below his hair line, as his fingers traced over what felt like his skull splitting in two. Blood shone on his fingers when he pulled his fingers again.
A purple glow appeared in the corner of his vision, and Viktor turned to look, finding himself faced with the Hexcore—only, it was big, much bigger than reality.
Viktor stumbled away from it, pain ricocheting through his skull as it continued to split slowly. He fell to his knees, his legs no longer carrying his weight. All he could do was scream as he felt himself being torn in two, he wrapped his arms around himself and scratched at his arms with blunt fingers.
Blood was hitting the invisible ground he was knelt on, falling in thick droplets and pooling, spreading out further than it should for the amount of blood. He saw his reflection in the shining red liquid, his eyes glowing yellow as his face no longer resembled anything human.
He tried to scream again, but he had no mouth.
Viktor climbed to his feet unevenly, trying to back away from the Hexcore that was just growing in size, almost taking up his entire vision. He took a step back and his foot no longer found solid ground, and instead he was falling.
Falling.
Falling.
He awoke with a scream.
Viktor still couldn’t feel solid ground beneath his feet, he’d managed to grab hold of something as he’d fallen, though, no longer moving, but feeling strangely levitated in mid-air.
Blinking rapidly, his lungs struggling to remember how to breathe, Viktor’s senses came back to him slowly.
He was half-way off the bed, his legs still on the mattress, but his upper body suspended by a strong hand between his shoulder blades and another on his upper arm. Jayce hovered above him, watching him carefully, pain and concern clear in his expression.
Viktor was gripping onto Jayce’s arms, and as he looked down he saw long, angry red nail marks trailing down his forearms, stopping at where Viktor had his nails dug into the skin. He noticed, with a jolt, that he was holding on so tightly, that there were small pinpricks of blood beading up to the surface.
He let go immediately, but it made Jayce lose his balance, as precariously positioned as they had been. They both crashed to the floor in a heap, Jayce landing on top of Viktor, momentarily pushing the air from his lungs.
Jayce lifted himself on his hands to hover over Viktor, taking his weight off the smaller man. “Fuck—are you okay, Vik?”
Viktor was looking at the crescent shaped marks on both of Jayce’s arms, most of them bleeding. “I’m sorry—I’m sorry, Jayce, you’re hurt—”
Jayce sat back on his heels, pulling Viktor into a sitting position. He pushed some of Viktor’s hair behind his ear, watching him carefully. “I’m okay, Viktor. It looked like you were having a nightmare.”
Immediately, Viktor raised a trembling hand to his forehead, but he found nothing but smooth skin. He looked at his hands, his own pale skin dotted with moles exactly as it should be. Trails of the arcane visible under certain lights, some iridescent webbing here and there, and faint scars in the shape of runes scattered all over.
“I was trying to wake you up but then you jolted and almost fell off the bed,” Jayce continued.
“We were outside,” Viktor said, looking around the bedroom. He could see the snow still falling out the window, the sky now a shade of dark blue as it approached sunrise.
“You fell asleep so I brought you back inside,” Jayce replied. “I woke up just a few minutes before you, you were crying and moving around in your sleep.”
“I…was asleep,” Viktor repeated. “We…we didn’t argue.”
“What?” Jayce cupped Viktor’s face in his hands. “No, amor, we didn’t argue. It was just a bad dream.”
“Just a bad dream,” Viktor repeated, his voice quiet and trembling. His head hurt, similar to the aftermath of a migraine, pressure uncomfortable behind his eyes. Jayce’s hands were sturdy against his cheeks, as if holding him together. “Just…a bad dream.”
“Viktor, look at me,” Jayce’s thumbs traced over Viktor’s cheekbones gently. “Where are you right now?”
“We’re…in the bedroom,” Viktor said, gripping Jayce’s wrists to ground himself. “In our bedroom. In our home.”
“That’s good,” Jayce kissed his forehead. “Deep breaths, amor. I’ve got you.”
Viktor focused on the feeling of Jayce’s hands on him, of their foreheads pressed together, the physical touch and everything that was real. The nightmare was fading, as gently as the sun was rising outside.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Jayce asked after a moment. When Viktor shook his head, Jayce didn’t push any further.
Instead, he stood up and scooped Viktor into his arms to settle them both back on the bed. They ended up bundled in blankets with Viktor laid on top of Jayce, his head to the other man’s chest, listening to the gentle heartbeat.
“You were bleeding,” Viktor gently ran his hands down Jayce’s arms.
“Not much,” Jayce tangled a hand in Viktor’s hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I’ll deal with it when we get up.”
“‘M sorry,” Viktor mumbled, his cheek pressed against Jayce’s chest. It wasn’t the first time he’d woken up to discover he’d hurt Jayce somehow, in the terror and panic of a nightmare, but it had been some time since it had happened.
“It’s okay, mi amor,” Jayce wrapped his other arm around Viktor’s waist tightly.
They fell into a comfortable silence, warm and cocooned beneath the pile of blankets that Jayce had stacked up on their bed as soon as he’d heard snow was forecast. Viktor’s breathing had settled, his heart rate was back to normal, but he wasn’t sure he’d find sleep again.
“I was supposed to be comforting you,” Viktor murmured. “It got all flipped again.”
Jayce chuckled, Viktor hearing it rumble in his chest. “You being here is comforting me, Vik. You letting me take care of you is comforting.”
Viktor shifted just so he could look up at Jayce, who was smiling softly at him. “Sometimes I think you’re too good to be true. You treat me so…softly.”
“You deserve softness, Vik,” Jayce replied. “I know you don’t think you do, but after everything…I think we both deserve that.”
“You…won’t leave, will you?” Viktor asked, his voice small as images of his nightmare continued to run through his head.
“Never,” Jayce held him closer, both arms wrapped around him. “I am never leaving you again, Viktor. You’re my home, my heart, my everything.”
Viktor’s voice caught in his throat, unsure if he could respond without crying. He settled against Jayce, the warmth lulling him into relaxing, even if he wasn’t tired enough to sleep.
“I love you, Jayce.”
“I love you too, Viktor,” Jayce’s voice was warm, enveloping Viktor just as securely as his arms. “I’ll always love you.”