Archive of Our Own

(Part 1: Narcissus - New Beginnings and Rebirth || Vanity and Ego)

As the Rune enveloped them, Jayce shielded his eyes from the explosion of spacetime that threatened to untether his very being. Despite the weight he bore of every decision that brought him here, to this finality, he felt weightless, small, and insignificant before the enormity that enveloped them both.

But there, in Viktor’s embrace, he could do little else but breathe a sigh, a finality, unsure if he’d ever come together whole again, or if he’d be scattered as starstuff across the cosmos.

At least I’d be with Viktor, Jayce thought,a bit helplessly, a bit hysterically, finding some absurd joy in his heart to be reunited with his partner, to hold him in his arms once more—

Even if it was for the last time.

It eased the fear crowding in his mind, the mistakes screaming in his thoughts, the despair numbing his body, the moment he placed his forehead against Viktor’s, knowing that Viktor was here with him, and knowing once and for all that he made the right choice. 

It eased the regret for all the time he lost, all the opportunities that slipped through his fingers like a sieve, the What ifs that hammered into his skull as he watched visions of a ruined future laid bare at his feet. It was knowing that he succeeded, that he made sure that the reality he witnessed would never come to pass. 

It eased the suffocating hold of guilt in his heart for all the words left unsaid, for all the moments he would never again be able to savor, not even having the courage to tell Viktor—

Well,

It didn't matter now.

All that mattered was in Jayce's arms, preparing to face the end,

Together.

At that final thought, silence swallowed them both.

Only to spit them back out in the blare of sound, sensation, and scents. Everything all at once blared to life, to sound, to light, in excruciating volumes for the first agonizing seconds. Jayce shielded his eyes immediately as breath flooded his lungs in a strong, burning tide. His skin felt warm beneath the glare of daylight overhead as he reached all around him to feel—

Panic.

Fear reached him before the question even formed in his mind:

Where is Viktor?

Jayce opened his eyes, gritting his teeth through the pain as he searched all around him. Everything was too bright, too loud, scraping and scratching incessantly at his brain. Jayce hadn’t even realized he’d been yelling until he felt his throat strain with a burning ache.

“VIKTOR!” his own voice sounded hoarse. Sounded choked and strangled with pain, with nauseating terror as the heat of the morning light was snuffed out by the emptiness of the field all around him. “VIKTOR—!”

Jayce could hear nothing but his own heart fluttering in frantic pulses. He stood on shaky legs, stumbling to his knees as his weak, malhealed leg buckled beneath him from pain. But even the piercing stab barely registered as he scanned his surroundings. The rolling hills stretched almost endlessly; mountains erupted towards an endless blue sky above, and vibrant blooms dotted the fields before him.

A far cry from the vast emptiness in the arcane; a far cry from the sunburst of the rune that marked both the beginning of Jayce's journey and what he thought was his end.

Instead, he was here. He was alive.

Without his partner.

Jayce felt panic surge through his blood, his own thundering heartbeat against his ears as he twisted around him, meeting nothing but the eerie silence of the wilds.

Then, against hope, against false gods, artificial magics, and fateful runes carved into flesh— 

“You’re…making quite a racket.” 

Jayce felt time stop all around him. He turned towards the sound of his partner, Viktor now groaning in pain, as terror slowly melding to relief, to overwhelming and utter joy. Jayce stumbled, fell, and crawled on his knees to the source of the familiar sound of Viktor muttering under his breath after waking up from an uncomfortable position, achingly familiar after years of finding his partner asleep on that old couch in the back of the lab.

His partner.

His partner was here.

Perfectly imperfect and breathtakingly human. And there, Viktor laid, in a bed of flowers and brush, cradled by the earth itself and Jayce felt his breath catch in his throat. 

He was also naked.

Jayce was also naked.

But he didn’t bother averting his eyes, covering himself in turn, or wasting time with useless things like propriety.

His partner was alive.

Viktor was alive.

They were alive together. 

And while they were alone, vulnerable to the elements without a single clue, without a single lead on where to go from there, without even any guarantee they’d survive to the next week—

All that mattered was Viktor’s aggrieved whine as Jayce pulled him to his arms, the tentative way Viktor placed a soothing hand on his back, and the indisputable truth that if his partner was here, that everything was going to be all right—

“Viktor…oh god, I was so worried…” Jayce sobbed, uncaring, unapologetic as he made a mess.

Viktor was quiet for a moment, 

Then said the words that broke Jayce’s heart in a single strike: 

“Viktor…

Is that my name?”

It felt like one sick joke.

One sick, cosmic joke.

Some kind of…fatalistic comeuppance that spewed forth from the unknowns of the Arcane, suckerpunching Jayce Talis right in the throat just when he thought he repented his sins, just when he thought he saved the world and his partner, just when he thought he’d been given the one thing he wanted desperately above all else.

All I want is my partner back.

“We should seek shelter,” Viktor said. He held his hand to the sky, a crude measurement from the sun to the horizon. “The sun will set soon.”

Jayce wanted to inform him that his measurements could be entirely inaccurate. There was no clear indication they were even in Runeterra anymore, despite everything looking so familiar.

After all,

The same could be said about the man in front of him, despite looking exactly like his partner.

“Who are you, anyway? And not just your name,” Viktor asked, his back turned and entirely unaware of the dagger he just sent sailing straight to Jayce’s chest. “I know my name is Viktor, from the way you wailed it to reach all corners of this valley—” 

Cheeky, Jayce thought. He was glad this Viktor still had his bite in him. 

There was still hope his Viktor could return to him yet. 

“And you told me your name was Jayce Talis.” He paused. “After embracing me when we were both in the nude. I take it we're close."

Jayce felt his cheeks warm at the insinuation. And rightfully—

It’s not like Viktor was very far off from the truth. It’s just that…

They never really had the chance to talk about it. And Jayce knew that the words he’d been carrying all this time belonged to Viktor. His Viktor. And he wasn’t about to dump nearly a decade’s worth of unresolved romantic tension on a version of his partner who didn't even remember his name.

“We’re best friends,” Jayce offered. Mild enough. “Partners, in fact.” 

“Partners…” The word rolled off his tongue. Jayce’s heart ached. The last time Viktor had called them partners—

Well, Viktor wasn’t exactly in his right mind then either.

“Like…work partners?”

Jayce deflated. Yeah, I mean, you’re the most important person to me and I trounced over the laws of nature and the sanctity of the natural order to bring you back from the dead, and risked myself and the entire world to get you back, but yeah, we're professional associates in the same field. “Yes. We work together.”  

Viktor hummed. “So…answer me this, Jayce Talis,” Viktor murmured, struggling to maintain balance on the oak tree Jayce had broken off for them both. Jayce trailed behind him, warily glancing around at the quiet wildlife around them. “How did two work partners end up in the middle of a field…alone,

Naked,

And myself without my memory?” 

Viktor looked back at him, brow cocked, and demanding. 

“Right,” Jayce murmured. “Where do we even begin.” 

“Where are we?” Viktor asked.

“I…don’t know.” Jayce looked around them. Glancing at the flora around him, they might still be in Runeterra. Or some kind of picturesque version of it, untouched by magic, by technology, by human advancement and mortal hubris. “I’m not familiar with this place.” 

Viktor made another humming noise. He wasn't exactly skeptical, but it was the same noise his partner made when presented with a puzzle. “Right. That raises more questions. You realize this, yes?” 

“Perfectly,” Jayce replied. 

“How did we end up here?” Viktor continued. 

Magic.

“Magic,” Jayce said, voice flat. 

Viktor turned to look at him and glared. “Yes, yes, very helpful Jayce Talis—” 

“You can just call me Jayce, Viktor,” Jayce sighed. “And if you want the most technical answer? It’s also I don’t know.” 

Viktor eyed him for a moment; perhaps he was searching for a lie from Jayce's expression. Perhaps he was seeking some sort of answer, some sort of epiphany, that would grant him all the pieces to put this mystery together.

But Jayce should have known better. Viktor was a scientist, first and foremost, and unraveling the mysteries of what laid before him was second nature: “Very well. So, let’s start with what we do know.” 

That brought a ghost of a smile to his lips. Jayce feared that Viktor would be worse for wear given the current circumstances: naked and alone with a man that he didn't recognize. As much as it pained Jayce’s own heart, Viktor had every right to be skeptical of him and simple logic dictated wariness and doubt. Even then, Viktor chose to believe him. Chose to wait patiently for Jayce to return with two walking sticks for them each. Chose to keep polite to the man easily dwarfing his entire size while there wasn’t hide nor hair of another soul out there in these wilds.

“We know our names,” Viktor listed. “We both have matching limps.” 

Jayce bit back a laugh. Viktor was making as much use of his terrible humor as always. “That’s right.” 

“And after your snide little look at the crude measurement I made earlier, I took the liberty of calculating the height of this walking stick and the stretch of its shadow and the position of the sun to surmise we have about two hours of daylight left.” He paused. “And that’s how I learned I’m rather good at math.” 

Jayce had to chuckle at that. He sent Viktor a warm look. “Yeah. You are. And you’re probably the smartest person I’ve ever met.” 

Viktor brightened at that and Jayce felt his insides flutter. 

“Don’t let it go to your head,” he scoffed, snickering as Viktor rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty smart too.” 

“Good,” Viktor said, rather airily. “The last thing I’d want is to be stuck with, alone in the wilderness, is a fool.” 

“What about a mountain boar,” Jayce asked.

Viktor paused for a moment, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes in concentration. Perhaps he was rescinding his earlier comment about not being stuck with a fool. Perhaps he was calculating the risk of having a fool or a mountain boar nearby. 

“The boar is slightly more forgivable," he determined.

Jayce laughed, falling so seamlessly to their regular banter, a stable comfort that he’d missed dearly, that he knew he took for granted, that he long cherished, a constant that he mistook for a guarantee. It made it easy to forget that this wasn’t his partner in front of him. That it wasn’t his Viktor, spouting off equations and formulas, delighting in recognizing their uses. That the tentative peace he was feeling was simply an easy bandage over his heart. 

Night rolled in. 

The fire crackled against the silence. Jayce tried to avoid staring into its flames as much as he could. 

He stared at Viktor instead. 

“Come now,” he snorted. “I can’t be the most interesting thing here.” 

Jayce shrugged. “I like looking at your face.” 

Viktor raised a brow. “Such a charmer,” he mused. “And such a generous provider too,” he said, giving a grand sweeping motion to the fish caught by the stream earlier.

Jayce already bit into his share while Viktor picked at the fire-roasted flesh. 

It was an upgrade from the salamanders, quietly Jayce admitted to himself.  And having Viktor here was already more than he could ask for. The real Viktor. Not just billowing smoke and dancing flames reminding him of his fall from grace. 

Even if this Viktor was missing his memories.

Even if this Viktor was missing all the parts of him that made him Jayce’s partner.

He was still in there. 

He has to be, Jayce thought, more than a little desperate. More than a little heartsick. “Hey…Viktor? Do you remember anything else?” 

Viktor hummed for a moment. “...I’m not a fan of fish.” 

Jayce snorted out a laugh. “Really? Is that all you got?” 

Viktor shrugged. “Not that I don’t appreciate your efforts of course.” He hummed as he picked at his food a bit more. “It’s…complicated,” Viktor murmured. “I know things. I know scientific concepts, the names of countries and their capitals, some phrases from another language—” He threw his hands up. “But I don’t know if I like…sweets. Or why I know these lullabies in my head. Or why you seem so familiar, other than from what you’ve told me…” Viktor frowned. “And most of all, I don’t know why, but…there’s this weight in my chest.” 

Jayce was quiet for a second. Hope and despair warred with equal forces and equal measure. “Weight? Can you explain it in more detail?"

Viktor looked at him, studying Jayce’s face by the firelight. He was probably searching for answers. For a memory. All the while, Jayce memorized Viktor’s features. The achingly human parts of him that Jayce thought he might never get to see again. The iridescent scars, remnants from the arcane, for all they’d been through, etched on his skin.

“I don’t know,” Viktor whispered. “But…” His eyes darted away. “When I look at you…” 

Jayce held his breath.

“...I feel guilty.” 

Jayce bit his lip. His jaw tightened. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.  He fought back a shallow, staggered breath.

“...It’s my fault, isn’t it?” Viktor looked at him with a small, sad smile. “That we’re here. That you’re here. I did something and for the life of me, I can’t remember what.” 

His voice petered out to a whisper, barely carried by the wind. All the warmth Jayce had left in him went straight to the fire as Viktor turned away, curled in on himself for comfort, and read Jayce and his regrets perfectly:

“And that’s why…

You’re not telling me."

(Part 2: Anemone – Death || Forsaken Love)

.

The night crept slowly through the morning hours. Daylight had yet to breach the horizon, and Jayce Talis found himself staring at a sky of dim stars blinking back at him.

“Hmph…seems we should have called it a night.”

Jayce bolted upright.

He turned to the voice, a lithe silhouette outlined by citylights and the faint glow of a dying lamp.

Oh.

Jayce swallowed.

It’s—

“Viktor,” he said, meeting Jayce’s sleepy gaze with his own curious stare. “In case you forgot.”

Jayce barked out a laugh. He wasn’t sure it was ever possible for him to forget. For years, Jayce had carried his work out in secrecy; had concealed his hopes and dreams until they festered to anxieties and lonely, sleepless nights.

He'd never had anyone understand his work like this.

Had never had anyone understand him like this.

They’d just created magic that night. Had floated off the ground, had defied gravity, had cemented themselves in history—

Jayce wasn’t just going to forget the man who helped it all click into place. The man who turned his life around. The man who took his life’s work and saw something he could believe in.

“Viktor,” Jayce said, quiet, reverent, the words echoing in the dark of his ruined apartment.

.

Jayce startled awake.

The fire had long gone out.

The sun stretched over the horizon.

And the spot where Viktor had perched himself before the fire was empty.

.

The early days were hell.

The Professor had waffled on granting them access to the Academy labs until the Hexcrystals were in a more stable state. That left Jayce sequestered in a ruined apartment to conduct his experiments—

Alongside his new partner.

That had been the other learning curve:

Sharing his work. Sharing his space.

Viktor was brilliant—that was undoubted. Uncontested. He solved the limiting factor Jayce had squandered months of headaches and materials on within a single night.

Combined efforts, Viktor said, reading his notes and jotting down a hypothesis—or maybe a correction.

Jayce supposed he should have felt envious. Territorial, even. It was Jayce's efforts and his dream that set everything in motion. He and Viktor were running on fumes, stepping over and tripping over each other in their cramped quarters and limited supplies.

“Hm…simply astounding…” Viktor murmured. “You found both energy and effort to mock this Dmitri character and draw his portrait.”

“Hey! That’s private!”

Viktor laughed. The corners of his eyes crinkled. Jayce caught sight of the points of his canines. His hand itched to sketch Viktor in that moment.

“What’s the matter?” Viktor asked, the point of his teeth peeking through his grin. “I thought we were partners?”

Jayce wouldn’t trade those days (and nights) for the world.

.

The panic was immediate.

A cry, a scream, a prayer sat at the end of Jayce’s tongue as he looked about him, fear freezing the blood in his veins and terror electrifying every nerve in his body to run—

And find him—

The pain hadn’t even registered.

The malignment of his bones, the way the jagged edges had torn through muscle and viscera, and the excruciating jolts of molten fire at every staggering step held nothing against the marrow-deep and soul-sworn agony of losing his partner again.

.

Viktor was a creature of odd habits, Jayce soon learned.

He had a penchant for sweets, even as far as pouring an ungodly amount of sugar into a curious drink he aptly dubbed sweet milk. He seemed to subsist on that concoction alone most mornings.

(Though, if Jayce were patient enough, the other half of the sandwich he stated he was “saving for later” would go missing over the course of the day.)

He was wary of dogs (with the exception of Professor Heimerdinger’s beloved pet Poro) but had an odd fondness towards lizards and other manner of reptiles. He even held a wistful sigh at the sight of one scurrying along the walls of Jayce’s ruined apartment

Viktor viewed the world from an odd lens. Scientific principles and laws of physics were mere suggestions, but he held a certain rigidity to his perspectives of people, of society,

Of the world.

“People are ruled by survival. By fear.” He didn’t meet Jayce’s eyes. “It is the heart of the atrocities they commit. Your Hextech could resolve that.”

But that was where Viktor was wrong.

Fear wasn’t just the heart of the cruelty and evil that men do,

.

The water was crystalline and cool. The stream rushed against the edges of the bank where Viktor sat. Its hypnotic. rippling flow almost drowned out the heaving of Jayce’s chest with every ragged breath he took.

Viktor looked back at him, unsurprised and only mildly apologetic.

“Sorry…I must have scared you.”

Fear was the heart of love, too.

His smile fell to the grass beneath. Viktor stared out into the water. “I heard it, when the clearing was quiet. The water, that is. I’m not sure why—but I was…” his voice wavered. He refused to look at Jayce. “It’s nothing.”

You know, I used to make my own toys, as a child.

Jayce continued to stare at him. A memory, a ghost, flitting through the early morning sun as Viktor stared into the river, at his distorted reflection.

A particular favorite of mine was a toy boat with a fully functioning motor.

“Did you sleep well?” Viktor asked, suddenly anxious of the silence. His fingers curled over the blooming buds of white that surrounded him, smothering their delicate petals. “I made sure to put out the fire before I left. Sorry if the chill woke you.”

Sadly, I lost it. The water ran faster than I could, and with it, took it far from my reach.

“But you know, it was either that or accidentally setting you ablaze.”

Jayce said nothing as he walked to where Viktor sat. Jayce gave a wordless wince as he sat down next to him. To this stranger wearing his best friend’s face. To this stranger looking out into the water with a wretched expression, wistful, pained, and lost all at once.

Now, how did that old rhyme go again?

“I thought I remembered something…” Viktor whispered. “For just a moment, when I was looking in the water. I thought I saw something…floating in the distance.” He gave a strained laugh. “It wasn’t much. It slipped right through my hands before I could even focus, just drifting down the stream before I could catch up.”

Jayce held his breath. Felt an ache beneath his ribs. A fracture in his heart.

A wound in his soul, as Viktor began to hum off-key, giving a thoughtless twirl to his hair. A nervous habit, built right into his bones where his flesh didn’t remember.

Merrily,

Merrily,

Merrily,

Merrily—

“Life is but a dream…”

“We’re going backwards.”

Jayce nodded. “I know.” In truth, that was because Jayce didn’t know where else to turn. Didn't know where else to go. There was no clear path before them, only possibilities riddled with uncertainty.

But in truth, Jayce didn’t know how to move forward without Viktor.

Couldn’t move forward without Viktor.

If I lost him again—

Then everything was meaningless.

The Viktor that trudged along beside him sent him a calculating look. It was familiar as it was devastating. “So explain it to me, then.”

Jayce remained silent.

They hadn’t walked long. It was midday when they first started their journey. They looked for any sign of civilization. A road. A worn trail. Smoke, billowing from the sky. Airships drifting across the clouds.

Jayce wanted to find them help. A place to rest. A place to eat. A place to recover. He hoped that Viktor’s memory would return with time, with reprieve. But every passing second that Viktor looked at him with a sense of caution. without a hint of familiarity—

“What are you hoping to find there?” Viktor pressed, slowing his steps. Moving behind Jayce. Eyes darting to the path behind them. Towards the stream. Towards the better odds of finding their way out of the wilds. “More flowers? Foliage?” Viktor kept his voice light. Teasing. “Maybe a mountain boar?”

Despite his hesitancy.

“I—” Something. Anything. “There must be some kind of clue we forgot back there,” Jayce murmured. He should have started there. But what had he been hoping to find?

Pieces of his partner’s memories?

Scattered bits and bobs and shards and shrapnel,

To form together to bring Viktor back to him?

“Some kind of clue,” Viktor repeated. Skeptical. Suspicious.

It reminded Jayce of when they’d first met. During those beginning days, Jayce thought his new partner was questioning Jayce’s very vision, was needling every bit of faith for proof until Jayce buckled and caved with wretched hopelessness at the impossibilities that laid before them.

“Some kind of clue.” Jayce looked back at him. Just to make sure Viktor was keeping up.

Just to make sure he didn’t lose him in his line of sight.

“I think you’ll know it when you find it.”

Viktor narrowed his gaze. Not entirely distrustful. Not entirely doubtful. Viktor wasn't asking to break his hopes and dismiss his dreams: it was a challenge to Jayce to make sure he actually knew the question he wanted to ask, to make sure he could define what answer he was chasing.

 Viktor was demanding him to know exactly what it is Jayce was looking for and what he set out to accomplish.

The answers Jayce could offer were nebulous at best.

“We’re here.” Jayce was fairly certain they were, anyways.

Viktor peered at the clearing. At the field of flowers growing in haphazard harmony. It was nearly indistinguishable from the scenery they passed on their way here.   

Other than the iridescent, oilspill tear above the clouds.

“I…don't remember seeing that when I woke up," Viktor murmured, curiosity easily overtaking caution.

It was faint: a fine line between the endless blues of the midday—a sliver, a fissure, a memory, and ultimately the only remnant of another world. Of another life.  

Jayce instinctively grabbed Viktor’s wrist before pressing forward. Viktor wordlessly followed, staring up above with quiet awe and fascinated horror.

“What was the last thing you remember?” Jayce asked. "Right before you woke up?"

Viktor furrowed his brows. “That I had a splitting headache. Excruciatingly painful, like my entire face was being torn in two.” He shrugged. “I tried sleeping it off, but then I heard you screaming.” He turned to Jayce as their pace slowed. As Jayce scanned the meadow for that something. For that anything. For that clue.

For proof of their existence.

“What about you?” Viktor asked. “What did you remember before you woke up?”

Jayce paused. “We…” His grip around Viktor's wrist tightened.

We were intertwined.

We were one.

I felt fear.

I felt peace.

I regretted everything,

And I regretted nothing,

As long as you were with me. “We were right next to each other,” he lamely finished. "That's why I was looking for you right after I woke up."

Viktor drew his hand away from Jayce's. “Yes?” Jayce stopped himself from reaching back for it. “And?”

His jaw tensed. “There was a massive explosion.”

“A massive—” Viktor bit his lip. His eyes darted to the rip in the sky. Then to the limp in Jayce’s step. “Is that what happened to—”

Jayce followed his gaze towards his injury. “No, no. This…this is old news by now.”

Viktor shook his head. As if he’d just realized what a preposterous claim that was. “Right—right. My mistake. It’s just…” Viktor stared at him. His gaze flickered to Jayce’s leg. “I’ve been meaning to say…it doesn’t look like it healed properly.”

“Yeah.” Jayce held his breath. You don’t remember me having this, do you? “It took some getting used to.”

“So…a massive explosion,” Viktor echoed. “And when we woke up, we’re dumped out in the wilderness.”

There’s a laugh at the edge of his voice. But not one of humor. Not one of hilarity. Not one of joy.

The sound curves and twists into something like panic. “You realize—”

“How insane it sounds? Yeah.” Jayce turned to him. He kept his expression neutral. His tone somber. “But you know, V?” The nickname escaped him so effortlessly, so naturally, so wretchedly familiar that it broke right through his mask. “Between the both of us?”

Memories flickered.

Floating.

Flying ships into the skies.

Revolutionizing technology.

Reaching the pinnacle of progress.

Viktor, by his side through all of it. 

Right through the bitter anguish and rotten pride beneath. “We’ve done some insane things in the past.” Jayce bit his lip and tasted iron in his mouth. “This barely scratches the surface.”

It wasn’t quite nostalgia. It wasn’t quite remorse. It was like looking back at a dream. 

“Is that so?” Viktor said, voice no longer light. No longer teasing. His tone was heavier. Contemplative. “Tell me about them,” he said. As if he knew the weight of that request. “Maybe something will slot into place.”

As if he knew what he risked breaking open once he asked. “I don’t even know where to start.”

There was so much I needed to say.

So much I should have said.

As before, as always, Viktor looked at him and in the midst of confusion, in the mires of mistakes and missteps, grounded Jayce and guided him to the simplest and most beautiful answers:

“You lead us here. So why don’t we start from the beginning?”

(Part 3: Primrose – Youth || Young Love)

.

 Viktor was an odd man with his own odd tendencies—

.

Viktor pouted. “Well, that’s not very nice! I’m sure you have your own fair share of peculiarities…”

Jayce let out a laugh. “I do.” Against himself, he grinned.  “Maybe after this, you’ll start remembering them.”

 
.

One of the very first things that Jayce realized was Viktor’s seemingly random bursts of inspiration, followed by hours upon hours of manic scribbling into his notes wherein he barely spoke a word, hardly ate or drank, and immediately crashed in a fit of self-induced exhaustion at the end of his trials.

But not before presenting his findings to Jayce, of course.

An astounding feat to achieve when their current workstation included Jayce’s own ruined apartment and Professor Heimerdinger’s unused lab when he had the opportunity.

That was another speedbump in their plans as well.

Viktor was still employed by Professor Heimerdinger. Was still trying to fulfill his duties in-between late hours in the lab.

“We need funding,” Viktor muttered for perhaps the third time that hour as he scratched his head and twirled his hair. “We need something for investors to latch on to.”

If Jayce hadn’t made it a habit of shooing away the pigeons flocking to his apartment, he was sure a few would have started nesting there. “But that demonstration—”

“Was a nice little parlor trick.” A rueful smile. A dimness in Viktor’s amber eyes. “It was enough to keep the Professor from having both of us exiled from Piltover and enough for Councilor Medarda to keep an open mind of our future projects.” He frowned, looking through Jayce’s blueprints once more. “We learned how to harness its energy. A crucial step, by all means. But as for application…”

“We need something that’ll make Hextech stand out from the rest.” Jayce nodded in understanding.  “Something that can revolutionize the world—”

“Something people can use,” Viktor pressed.  “Something beneficial.”

Bring magic to the people. Jayce counted himself endlessly lucky.  “How about we start there?” Meeting a partner that understood him and his goals to its fullest. “Build our way up.”

“Economical,” Viktor nodded. “We’ll start with what we do know.” He laid out the blueprints in front of them, crowding around the small table at the center. “The Crystals generate energy. We’ve made an apparatus that can contain that energy and when released—” 

We created magic.

“We floated,” Jayce finished, voice tight, still (embarrassingly) emotional over the entire ordeal. Even when it was weeks ago. 

Jayce rubbed the crystal on his wrist. The very one Viktor returned to him that night. The very one that set his dream into motion.

That tethered his soul to this very destiny. “What if we could do more than that?”

“Fly?” Viktor asked, not even glancing up as he frowned at the nibbled end of his pencil. “We already have airships and the like in other areas of Runeterra…but I suppose—”

“No, not just fly,” Jayce insisted. “Something greater than that.”

At that, Viktor looked up, 

And Viktor understood.

Viktor always understood.

.

“Does any of that ring a bell?” Jayce asked. 

Viktor stared at the sky. Then at Jayce’s face. “Not in particular.” But his gaze lingered on the sky for a bit longer than necessary. “But go on.” 

.

During those early days, Viktor was often caught between his duties to the Professor and his projects in their budding startup. Viktor  carved up the remains of his busy day to work in their makeshift lab as the beginnings of Hextech scraped by with using his pay for extra materials and equipment. Of course, hardships weren't unfamiliar in the scope of pioneering the world’s first marred marriage of magic and maths—

Of the arcane and technology.

Jayce was similarly busy. Similarly engulfed in continuing, conducting experiments, all the while avoiding the suspicious gaze of Academy professors, students, and citizens in Piltover who bore witness to his trial. 

He kept to the forge during the day, then returned to their makeshift lab at night when Viktor returned from fulfilling his duties to the Dean of Piltover Academy. 

Eventually,

Something had to give. 

Jayce had stayed at the forge for a few more hours. He expected to find Viktor there at the apartment, scribbling away in his notes (or Jayce’s notes, really), greeting with a grating Nice of you to join us, Mister Talis. 

He would have made a great teacher, Jayce thought. But shook his head. He didn’t even want to entertain the idea of losing Viktor to the throes of academia. 

Instead, what greeted Jayce was a dark apartment, a quiet mess of notes and papers, and a very solid figure that gave a pained (or annoyed) groan when Jayce nearly tripped over his partner lying on the floor. “Vik—VIKTOR!?” 

Panic rushed through him as he turned Viktor to his back. “Oh God—” he breathed, feeling lightheaded as his eyes adjusted to the dim lights. He wasn’t even trained in CPR—! “Don’t die on me, partner—”

Viktor gave a miffed groan. “M’fine…”

And proceeded to turn over to ignore Jayce’s noisy breath of relief. 

(This would be the first of many instances like these, much to Jayce’s dismay.) 

“You’re taking the rest of the night off,” Jayce muttered, pulling Viktor to a sitting position. 

“P’r–post’rs,” Viktor mumbled. 

“Yes. Yes you are,” Jayce argued. “How are you still fighting this when you’re passed out?”

Viktor was silent for a moment and Jayce debated whether he should just let his partner sleep or call an ambulance. “Sk’ll.”

Thank god. 

They didn’t have the money for medical bills right now. 

Against himself, Jayce bit back a smile. His partner still had some fight in him.

That was reassuring already. 

Viktor was unsurprisingly (but worryingly) light. It made things far too easy for Jayce to simply deposit him on the couch where, for the next several hours, Jayce made work of deciphering Viktor’s notes, melding them to his own, adding questions for clarification at the margins, all while fielding calls and demands from the Professor and the Academy.

All the while, Viktor slept, exhaustion carrying his dreams deep into the midnight hours and drifting into the next day.

Jayce was asleep, facedown on his desk when he stirred to a familiar voice. “…this couch is surprisingly comfortable.”

At that, Jayce chuckled. He swiveled from his seat and with fond eyes, watched as Viktor owlishly blinked himself to full consciousness. “Yeah?” he laughed. “It’s kinda old. Lumpy and stiff in a lot of places.”

Jayce gave a stretch, the ache in his muscles somehow less excruciating as Viktor yawned behind him. “Just…lumpy enough to support where I need it.” Viktor patted the old piece of junk affectionately. “And firm enough for my back.”

(Jayce made sure to keep note of that. Thus,  the couch made its permanent residence at any location dubbed their lab,

All the way to its final resting place at the official Hextech headquarters years later.)

.

“So, I’m a workaholic,” Viktor hummed. “That’s…not surprising.”

Jayce barked out a laugh. “That’s what you got out of that?” 

“Defining features, right?” Viktor looked at him. He spread his body out over the flowers. He tilted his gaze towards the skies and Jayce found himself desperate to carve the sight of him to memory: Viktor, among the flowers, unburdened by the weight of their sins, savoring the kiss of a passing breeze.

But even Jayce knew it wasn’t meant to last.

Not when Viktor kept his gaze to another sky, another life that neither of them could reach.

.

But for all Viktor’s headstrong stubbornness,

There was a fragility to him too.

Jayce poked his head through the curtain. “V? We’re up!” he called. Jayce frowned at the silence that followed. "Viktor?" he asked, voice dropping to a whisper.

Jayce furrowed his brow as Viktor stood there in the dark, seemingly motionless. Jayce refrained from rolling his eyes.

The day had not gone well. There were last-minute adjustments. They had to rent out another carriage to carry their equipment. Then the bolts had gotten loose during the ride over from the sheer weight of their prototype—

Thankfully, Jayce still had his father’s collapsible pocket-wrench.

And of course, Jayce had a sea of faces staring at him. Glaring at him. Keeping their distance from him like he carried the plague.

Dangerous.

Unstable.

Should be in Stillwater.

Figures—

He and the Trench Trash would make a team.

The words buzzed throughout the competition. It made Jayce grit his teeth. He recognized a few faces. Classmates, back at the Academy. The very same classmates that touted themselves as the best and brightest—

All while Jayce busied himself with making history. With bringing something greater than anything they could ever dare to fathom—

And he was going to show them all today—

With his partner by his side.

“I can’t.”

Jayce froze. “What?”

“I—I can’t.” Viktor glanced at the curtain like it was the only barricade between him and judgment. “Not out there…”

Between him an absolution. “Viktor, what are you saying—of course we have to present! We’re up!”

“Jayce, I—”

Jayce took a step back, assessing the situation in front of him.

He’d never seen Viktor like this before. Viktor had always been a force to be reckoned with. He was confident in his assertions. He was steadfast in his methodology. He was…pretty abrasive in his nitpicking.

. 

“Rude,” Viktor muttered.

“But true,” Jayce countered easily, gently nudging his side. “One the things that makes you…amazing.”

Viktor didn’t meet his eyes.

“You always have been.” Jayce stamps down the urge to place his hand over the fragile curve of Viktor’s shoulder. “Always will be.”

. 

“You’re being ridiculous,” Jayce sighed. “This isn’t the time for cold feet—”

“I—Jayce, I can’t go out there,” Viktor whispered. His eyes were wide. Shiny with unshed tears. His knuckles were white from where he held a suffocating grip on his cane as he drew his gaze to the floor. “There's—there's too many—”

Jayce sighed, growing antsy, growing impatient as murmurs began to flow through the curtains. “V, that’s the whole point, isn’t it? That all these people, that huge crowd, sees our work?” That we can prove them—

Prove them all wrong.

“Come on, you were the one who suggested this!” Jayce muttered under his breath, walking over to Viktor with a roll of his eyes. “We’ve worked too damn hard to let your nerves get the better of you,” Jayce chided, pulling Viktor by his hand.

“Jayce, I really, really can’t—”

Jayce should have heeded the desperation in his voice. Should have known that push too hard, push too far.

At the end of the night, they won first prize and demonstrated to the world just what the power of Hextech could do.

That there was a bright future ahead of Piltover—

And Jayce Talis was leading the way.

All the while, Viktor stood at the back of the stage, trembling, having humiliated himself in front of his own partner,

And owing him a new pair of shoes after vomiting all over them.

.

“Ah…stage fright?” Viktor murmured. “Hm…can’t say I’m surprised.” He shuddered. “Just the thought of performing on stage makes my stomach turn.”

Jayce gave an empty laugh.

That had been a defining moment in their relationship, the turn of their partnership,

Jayce just hadn’t seen it at the time.

The crowd only saw Jayce Talis. They didn’t even care to look at Viktor, the single name attached to the project. The brilliant scientist that dragged Jayce out of the mires of shame, the same brilliant scientist that progressed Jayce’s life work as his partner, the co-founder of Hextech.

Jayce remembered standing there, before an entranced crowd, clamoring to the front of the stage, rapid-fire questions flying out of their mouths as cameras flashed like a sea of stars.

Jayce felt like he was on top of the world, showing off his inventions, the culmination of years of working in seclusion and secrecy—

All the while, Viktor stood behind the curtain.

Jayce never realized how far he’d left Viktor at the bottom.

Not until he realized when he turned around that his partner was no longer by his side.

(Part 4: Hyacinth – Forgive Me)

Jayce had been quick to fixate on the past. When the world had been simpler. When it was himself and Viktor, out to prove themselves and climb their way to greatness.

Musing, reminiscing, finding comfort in the persisting memories of their greatest achievements, the long nights spent by each other’s side, and the adrenaline of discovery as progress turned a key to every door.

It was easy, then. To fall to nostalgia. To look at Viktor across from him and share a memory, a moment, watching his mouth twitch with amusement, the corner of his eyes crinkle with a mirrored, echoed laugh.

But the memory never did reach his eyes.

“Anything, V?” Jayce dared to ask, voice fracturing at the end. His voice had grown hoarse from talking. Clouds swirled overhead. He didn't know how many hours had passed. “Anything at all?”

Viktor considered him for a moment. Perhaps deciding between choosing kindness or truth.

“I’m not sure.”

Jayce felt a new injury slice right through his chest.

All the while, Viktor shrugged. Apologetic, but nothing more. “You’re a good storyteller.”

Jayce wanted to laugh at that. A natural showman, Viktor once told him, holding up a copy of Piltover Press from Jayce’s first speech. All the world was a stage, and Jayce was starring in a tragedy of his own making.

“I don’t know if anything feels familiar,” Viktor started, picking at the flowers by his side, holding the fragile stems as the petals swayed apathetically. “Or if I just enjoy hearing you reminisce.”

“What can I do?” Jayce asked, begged, pleaded. "To get you to remember?"

“Perhaps…” Viktor bit his lip. “I could do better with concrete information. Memories of experiences are—vague. I can only hear of the time I’ve lost through your eyes.”

Jayce admitted that it made sense. There was only half a heart poured into those tales.

(The other half was elsewhere, somewhere only Viktor can reach.)

“Episodic memory and semantic memory are perhaps retrieved from differing methods,” Viktor mused and Jayce had to wonder just how deep his partner’s well of knowledge ran. “If we're having difficulty with the former, then focusing on the latter may be of some help.”

“What, you want me to discuss your favorite physics equation?” Jayce snorted. But he would, if Viktor wanted him to. Naturally, Jayce knew it off the top of his head.

But Viktor had something far more personal in mind. “What were we working on?”

Jayce froze.

“You mentioned a lab. You mentioned being…work partners.”

Jayce bit back a flare of indignation. No, not just work, not just in the lab, not just when it wasn’t in front of them, they were partners in everything, Jayce wouldn’t be here for a fucking academic associate—

“You spoke of competitions and grand scientific discovery. Of endless work, dragging us to the point of exhaustion.” But here, it was colder. Even more distant than that. Viktor gave him a hapless smile. “I admit—I’m far more intrigued to learn what we did together. What I might have learned during that time.”

Here,

They were strangers.

Jayce shook his head. “Okay…” He gave a hard swallow. "We worked on a lot of things. Where do you want to start?"   

“Perhaps—this is a selfish request,” Viktor started, as if it weren’t a selfish wish that lead them here. “But I’d like to satisfy a personal curiosity.”

“Anything,” Jayce promised.

“What was our greatest invention, Jayce?”

Jayce felt his breath catch in his throat.

It felt like a test.

“Our magnum opus?” Viktor asked. "Perhaps, something big. Something meaningful—

For the both of us."

Jayce had to tamp down his immediate response. The one that came, unbidden, to the forefront of his thoughts, only locking the words behind his lips as his throat choked on his bitter, wretched truth.

The Hexcore—

—Even when it poisoned you,

Even when it took control of you,

Even when it took the very person I loved and twisted you,

Distorted you,

It was the one thing that brought you back—

Brought you back to me.

Jayce took in a shuddering breath. He couldn’t. He couldn’t start with that. Not when they still bore the marks of their sins.

Not when Viktor had finally wrenched himself free from its snare.

“The Hexgates," he said. The words came out short. Aborted. A defeated whimper instead of their grand triumph.

Viktor raised a brow and for an earth-splitting moment, Jayce feared he caught him in his lie. But Viktor only hummed. “An ambiguous name. Care to elaborate?”

Jayce chuckled weakly. “You were the one that named it.”

“Its function?” he prodded. “And its mechanism?”

Ever a scientist, Jayce thought helplessly. “To understand the Hexgates…let’s start with Hextech.”

“A teleportation device…” Viktor huffed out a laugh. "Powered by none other than…" His voice sounded strained. It echoed disbelief. He tore his gaze from Jayce’s and brought it skyward. Right at its tear. Right at its impossible existence. “Magic.” He spat out the word like it left a foul taste in his mouth.

"I think you're on to something with this Hextech of yours."

Viktor had been the one to approach him. Had seen his work and when the entirety of Piltover condemned him for being dangerous, for being a lunatic—

Viktor had found him.

Had approached him with curiosity.

With determination.

“You’re—you’re being completely serious.” Viktor paused, his wide eyes searched Jayce’s face for a hint of a lie. “You’re…you’re actually serious.”

This time, Viktor looked at him with wariness; with caution; with skepticism and disbelief.

“I am,” Jayce said carefully. “We—”

Our future is bright—!

Jayce squeezed his eyes shut. “We wanted to bring magic to the world.”

But it came at a heavy cost.

When he rubbed at the burning in his eyes, quick to wipe away the tearstreak of regrets, Jayce watched with an ache in his chest at the sight of a flicker of iridescence, an oil-spill shine, bleed and overtake the warm amber of Viktor’s eyes. 

“But that…” Viktor’s voice wavered in the still air. His eyes were pinned to the sight of the clouds stirring overhead. To the crack in the sky. Then to this solitary place—quiet—too quiet— to where even birds refused to pass overhead. “…that didn't end very well, did it?”

There was a degree of awe in his voice.

And a sliver of fear.

(But fear is the heart of love,

Isn’t it?)

“No…we did…” Jayce heard his own voice die in his throat as the muscles tightened to a bitter swallow against his words. “We still did great things.”

In the pursuit of great—

We failed to do good.

Viktor nodded absently. “We did incredible things…”

The way Viktor said incredible sounded more like he meant terrible. Horrible.

Unnatural.

Viktor’s voice sounded…strained. Far away. He was right next to him. Jayce ensured that.

Viktor trembled. There wasn’t a breeze to be felt along the valley of flowers, despite the swirl of stormclouds and the gaping maw in the sky, but still—

Viktor shivered.

He looked pale.

His eyes looked empty.

“Viktor,” Jayce called softly. He shook his shoulder with concern. “Hey—hey, it’s all right—”

“What are we doing here, Jayce?” Viktor whispered. “This place—there's something wrong with it."

Jayce's jaw tensed. "Viktor, focus on me…keep looking at me, okay? We'll figure it out later—"

"It doesn't feel right—I don't feel right—not since the moment I opened my eyes."

I had just gotten you back—you had died and I couldn't let you go. You were kept in the Hexcore's influence for too long, we were scattered into the infinity of the arcane together, and you have no memory of any of that happening.

"After all you've been through…" Jayce found himself saying instead. "That wouldn't surprise me."

Viktor sucked in a breath. "Was…was this our doing?”

Jayce gave a bitter swallow. “…yes.”

Viktor fell silent again. Jayce stared at the wound in the sky with him.

Jayce had never known Viktor to be a man of faith. Had never known him to place his fear into anything but public speaking and his own dwindling mortality. But Jayce knew Viktor had reached the same conclusion as Jayce:

Punishment.

Purgatory. A sentence written into their fate, ensuring they'd never escape from their sins.

Jayce, losing the one person he loved above all else,

And Viktor, losing himself entirely.

The winds kicked up. An errant cloud masked the anomaly overhead. A sudden breeze broke the tension.

A fabric fluttered in the wind, demanding Jayce’s attention.

His chest tightened at the sight of it. But against himself, the corners of his lips lifted in a smile. “Hey…that looks familiar…” Jayce winced as he maneuvered slowly towards a billowing, inky blue shadow, caught in the cluster of flowers, growing in vivid blooms. Catching the fabric in his hands, Jayce forced out a laugh.

Viktor was still shivering by the time Jayce returned to him. He stiffened as a tattered blanket was draped over his shoulders.

“You looked cold,” was Jayce’s only explanation.

Viktor looked as small and confused as when he awoke in the lab. All the same, he wrapped himself with the small comfort Jayce offered him.

"Thank you…Jayce."

Their journey left its visible scars, painted on their skin and in the color of the eyes Jayce fell in love with all those years ago when he balanced his life on a ledge.

He wasn't about to give Viktor up without a fight.

(Part 5: Orchid – Beauty || Fragility)

Jayce didn't mind the silence.

He continued to speak. Continued to reminisce. He wove flowers with every memory he shared, every secret and every thought that went unspoken—

Out of fear,

Out of confusion,

Out of doubt.

But there was nothing left of that now. There was only Jayce and his memories and a field of colors and blooms, and a broken crown of flowers as Viktor—his Viktor—was elsewhere,

Perhaps in another sky.

"You teased me mercilessly when the first batch of merch came out for the Man of Progress." Jayce gave a rueful grin. "I was mortified. They put my face on a mug and you came to the lab late that morning. I nearly had a heart attack."

Viktor made a noncommittal noise.

Jayce bit his lip. He continued on. "Five years working together at that point and the only time you ever came to the lab late was when your pain started acting up. Then your lungs—" Jayce's voice came to an abrupt break, weighted down with too many emotions. But he had to continue.

He had to.

"A-And you come in…" Jayce chuckled. "You come in with a mug. A mug with my face on it." He searched Viktor's eyes for a flicker of amusement. For a flicker of recognition. But Viktor held on to his silence with a delicate hand, a gentle caress to the petals of the vibrant blooms around him, as if it held some fragility,

As if he worried his touch would bruise or break it.

Jayce swallowed. "And you know what you said?"

The blanket slipped from Viktor's shoulders, falling to his lap as he leaned to his side. "Hm?"

It was something.

It was all Viktor could offer him.

"You said you stood in line for hours to get one." Jayce let out a laugh. It sounded like a sob. "You said—it was limited edition!" Jayce remembered feeling the worry ebb out of him as irritation crashed over his heated head like a tide as Viktor proudly held up the damn Man of Progress mug in his hand like a trophy, while Jayce was on the brink of calling an ambulance to his apartment. "I didn't have the heart to tell you that the company that made them had shipped a box to my house about a week before the mugs hit the shelves—I was just too mortified that it was even happening."

.

The mug became Viktor's favorite. He drank his sweetmilk from it every morning.

Then, Jayce lost his mug and began using Viktor's. It was only natural—they were partners, after all. Viktor used his goggles on the off-day when he bothered with lab safety. Jayce used his fancy fine-tip pens that he used for blueprints and diagrams. Viktor used his chair when his back ached,

And Jayce used his mug.

And just—

Kept using it.

Viktor groused about it once. There were no more clean cups in the break room.

"I stood in line for it," Viktor had muttered.

Jayce only raised the steaming cup, straightening his posture and pointing his nose up at an angle to match the pose. "But whose face is on it?"

Jayce then proceeded to spill coffee all over himself.

.

"That was the most I ever heard you laugh." Jayce smiled, wide enough for his cheeks to ache. But his vision swam as tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. "I—I thought I was going to have to take you to the hospital because you—you kept coughing and hacking in-between. And, of course, I spilled coffee all over the floor trying to help you, but that just made you laugh even harder."

Viktor let out an amused huff. He even gave a ghost of a grin as Jayce continued. But it was clear to see—

Viktor's mind was elsewhere.

"You…ended up getting your own mug afterwards." Jayce held his breath. "It didn't have my face on it. And I was really annoyed by that for some reason."

Look at me.

Jayce wanted to plead. To beg.

Viktor was right there—right in front of him. Alive. Safe. Whole.

But only physically.

There were parts of his partner that only existed in scattered recollections, fragments and glass-sharp slivers of every moment they shared together,

And no scrying, no ritual, and no magic spell here was going to bring Viktor back to him.

There was only Jayce.

And there was only his love.

Jayce felt his mouth go dry. "I started stealing that mug too."

Viktor paused. Listening, even distantly. Even against the noise, the chaos, the clutter, and the unknowns, Jayce could see the gears turning in his head.

Ever a scientist, Jayce thought with equal parts affection, equal parts frustration. Curiosity caught the tail-end of Viktor's attention, and Jayce had to reel him back in. "Do you know why?"

"Were you too lazy to clean the one you took from me, too?" Viktor asked, voice barely grazed with humor.

"No," Jayce responded with a touch of indignance. "Plus, we were supposed to take turns with cleaning—"

A scoff. A roll of his eyes. "Then you obviously skipped your turns." They were amber now.

"That's—" Jayce let out a defeated sigh. "That's besides the point."

Viktor finally lifted his gaze to meet Jayce's eyes, only to send him a glare. "That's entirely the point."

Unbelievable. Jayce scoffed. "But not the one I'm trying to make."

Viktor took in a breath. "Okay. I'll play along. Why did you take my mug, Jayce?"

.

"Really? I just got that one…"

Viktor looked back at him with a questioning gaze. And Jayce had an answer at the tip of his tongue, a remark, a rebuttal, the echo of a familiar song and dance between them.

But Viktor only sighed.

He grabbed a styrofoam cup from packaging behind the cupboards.

And Jayce watched as the distance between them grew larger,

Louder.

Louder than the silence at everything that went unsaid between them.

.

"Because I wanted you to use the other one again."

Jayce said it thoughtlessly. Carelessly.

Honestly. "The other one…" Viktor frowned. "The one with your face on it?"

No matter how disastrously stupid it all sounded. "Yeah."

Viktor cocked a brow, his mouth forming a familiar, wry line. "A little egotistical, don't you think?"

Jayce barked out a laugh. He couldn't help it. A single tear rolled down his cheek and the dam was fit to burst. "It—It was so dumb. I didn't understand—I got worked up over it—" Jayce could feel the tears rolling down his cheek, the warmth and shame and iron-hot desperation branded over his chest, over his heart. "I hadn't seen you for what felt like weeks because of—stupid galas and speeches and events and you hated going, you hated coming along, I had to get Sky to drag you to Progress Day because I kept talking about you, but you never showed up, and—"

I was losing you.

Jayce never got to tell him. Never told Viktor that he'd felt the distance. Seen the quiet between them. Saw how Viktor hesitated to reach out and ultimately retreated back to the lab, back to the shadows, behind the curtain, back behind Jayce when his partner should have been by his side the entire time.

And Jayce didn't know how to bridge that gap. Didn't know how to broach the truth they didn't want to face.

Not until it was too late.

Not until Jayce lost him.

Lost everything—

"It was affection that held us together."

Jayce took in a breath at the gentle touch to his knee. He turned to Viktor. The scars were still apparent. It laid on his skin like an oilspill over the constellation of moles and freckles on his skin. "And?" he asked softly, gently. "It's just a mug, Jayce." So much so that it aches.

"I know." Jayce's voice was tight, wound taut with too much regret, too much grief, too much of everything much too tentative, much too frail, to fully enclose everything grown between them and everything that was taken. "But it was our mug."

Viktor's eyes softened. Jayce didn't even know if he was making any sense. But if there was anyone who could make sense of his ramblings, it was Viktor. "And then what happened?"

Jayce scoffed, hiding a fresh flood of tears with a wry smile and a quick swipe to the corner of his eyes. "You bought yourself a third one. And I ended up with two mugs and cracked both of them."

And Jayce couldn't call it hope—not yet, not when the roots hadn't found their soil, not when the petals had yet to unfurl, not when Viktor still looked at him with a guarded sort of affection, a distant sort of fondness—but something budded from the cracks in his heart as Viktor gave a thoughtless, careless laugh,

And nodded. "That…sounds about right."

(Part 6: Dandelion – Divination || Survival)

.

When Jayce was a boy, he spent lonely days in his mother's garden. Out of all her prized blooms and blossoms,

He favored the weeds that grew with rebellion, with audacity, in his mother's perfect garden the most.

Outcasts to the perfect blossoms his mother grew with care. But Jayce knew something she didn't:

In the books he bought from trading ships and markets, he read that some magics could be drawn from even ordinary things like the weeds his mother plucked from their roots:

A spark of the divine,

A flicker of secrecy,

A breath of magic.

And so Jayce scattered dandelion seeds across his mother's prized garden, each lonely day carrying a wish. It was superstition, when it came down to it. Folklore, rather than magical spells.

But it became a habit as he grew older, as he passed by the weeds growing at the sides of the road, at springtime in parks and when he visited home. The same wish, in practiced ritual.

Then he met Viktor.

He stopped wishing on dandelion seeds not long after.

.

"There's beauty in imperfection."

Jayce always knew. There was an elegance in Viktor's soft words, his lithe frame, his crooked posture, and the harsh lines that contrasted against the cosmic hues of his partner, painted in starlight.

Jayce was prepared to die there. He knew it was the inevitable outcome. He was aware of the insurmountable choices, decisions, missteps, mishaps, and mistakes that lead him here.

But having his partner in his arms again—

Was well worth the sacrifice.

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond

any experience, your eyes have their silence:

in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,

or which i cannot touch because they are too near

Jayce's journey to magic started with Viktor. With the mage that fed his obsession with a single rune, and with the best friend and partner that lifted his dreams from the ashes of an explosion.

Their stories were always intertwined.

Their fates were always entangled.

They were never complete without the other, and—just like magic—wonder and ruin were held in the same hand.

And with Viktor in his arms,

With reality twisting, turning, and tearing at the seams,

Jayce didn't know where he ended and where his partner began as he felt their very souls, their very existence, begin to unravel, untether,

Scattering across the infinite embrace of the arcane.

your slightest look easily will unclose me

though i have closed myself as fingers,

you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens

Jayce was ready to meet the end. With fear, with regret, with love, and with acceptance.

"Because I promised you—"

The ruins of Piltover. The decaying puppets.

And Viktor,

All alone.

Left in the rot of a fate that Jayce couldn't save him from.

"We end this—

or if your wish be to close me, i and

my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,

as when the heart of this flower imagines

the snow carefully everywhere descending;

—together."

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals

the power of your intense fragility: whose texture

compels me with the colour of its countries,

rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes

and opens; only something in me understands

And now Jayce was here. He'd survived, despite it all. And despite it all, he felt nothing but the echoing loss of a limb torn from his body, half his soul torn from his being, and half a heart shattered into pieces as Viktor looked at him with uncertainty. "I lost myself," Jayce confessed. The truth was bitter, but he swallowed around it all the same. "I lost…sight of what really mattered."

"Jayce…" Viktor started, his touch petal-soft. "You cannot shoulder all the blame."

"I…"

"You think it's so easy? To turn your back while your whole city looks to you for salvation? To cling to principles while your best friend bleeds out in your arms?"

"I don't," Jayce murmured. And it was true. A part of those memories held the sharpened edge of resentment. Viktor was there. He could have crossed the line. "But I should have still been there. When you needed me."

 But why didn't he?

"I could have been there for you, too," Viktor offered, something of an apology to an old hurt. "You sounded like you were struggling. For a long time."

Tears blurred his vision. "I should have told you. There were a lot of things I should have told you." The words were bitter on his tongue. A confession, just at the tip, right between his teeth. "I just. I thought…"

"You thought…?" Viktor pressed.

"I thought that I needed to." The flowers bruised too easily in his hands. Something he created, once more deteriorating in his hands . "God, V—You were growing sicker and sicker and—you hated it when I asked." Motivations, reasons, excuses: they fell flat on the soft, bloom-dotted field. "I thought if I could carry this, if I could take this off your plate, if I could shoulder the burden—"

Good intentions, he thought emptily. And looked where they paved a path for him. "And then it ended up consuming me."

A hell of the deepest circle, a torture that was crafted for Jayce and Jayce alone.

His partner,

His Viktor,

Looking at him like a stranger.

Jayce cast his gaze towards the ruined crown in his hands.

"I'm not so fragile, you know."

Jayce lifted his head, ready to apologize, ready to retort— but Viktor only took the wrung flowers from his hands with.

.

When he was a boy, he spent lonely days in his mother's garden. Out of all her prized blooms and blossoms,

He favored the weeds that grew with rebellion, with audacity, in his mother's perfect garden the most.

Outcasts to the perfect blossoms his mother grew with care. But Jayce knew something she didn't:

In the books he bought from trading ships and markets, he read that some magics could be drawn from even ordinary things like the weeds his mother plucked from their roots:

A spark of the divine,

A flicker of secrecy,

A breath of magic.

And so Jayce scattered dandelion seeds across his mother's prized garden, each lonely day carrying a wish.

.

"We're partners," Viktor said with a familiarity that made Jayce's chest ache. "I should have been able…should have been willing to lend you the support you needed."

Jayce found himself wanting to argue. That Viktor was his partner and Viktor needed him and Hextech needed him and the Council needed him and Piltover needed him and—

There had been so much at once. So much to shoulder. So many voices that were calling to him, demanding him, unraveling him and cannibalizing what was left.

Then the bombing happened.

And he saw Viktor there,

Bloodied,

Unmoving,

And achingly silent.

Nothing else mattered after that.

Everything Jayce did and everything he sacrificed meant nothing the moment Jayce had Viktor dead in his arms.

Not even the oath he made to Viktor himself as he fed his body and pieces of his soul to the very thing Jayce promised he'd destroy.

I couldn't bear to watch you wilt before others could see you bloom.

"Dandelions and orchids," he murmured. In a field of flowers, it seemed only fitting. Two of a different world. "What a pair we make."

Viktor turned to him. "Hm?"

"Orchids, you know?" The memory sent a sharp sting to his chest; of his mamá and her prized blooms. "They're beautiful, but difficult to care for." A labor of love, she'd said, showing off the vibrant colors and the elegant petals. "Sensitive to the soil, the water, the environment where they're planted." His mamá said the same about people, too. "They need a place dedicated to them where they can thrive. Otherwise…they wilt too easily."

Jayce wanted that to be the lab. A sanctuary for the both of them. A place where Viktor was free to pursue their passions while Jayce dealt with the pressures of Piltover breathing down his neck. Somewhere Viktor had control, had authority, had the prestige and freedom to create without constraint.

But even then,

Jayce watched year after year as Viktor slowly worsened from his illness.

"And the dandelions?" Viktor asked, drawing his thoughts back to the present. Back to the Viktor in front of him.

Not the Viktor he might have lost. "Dandelions—even if some people find them a nuisance, they're hardy. Resilient. They can survive anywhere." Jayce made wishes upon them, as a child. Plucking them from their roots and casting a secret to a fickle fate before his mother scolded him for spreading weeds. "Even just being carried off into the winds."

Jayce thought back to his months in that ravine. The hunger that scratched at his insides. The pain that steadily grew to a sickening comfort and proof of his survival. Of the promise he made and the dogged refusal to let his partner go a second time.

It kept him going, rooting his drive, his purpose—

To the memory of the man right in front of him.

"A nuisance, eh?" he laughed.

Jayce gave a self-deprecating grin. "Stubborn, too. Almost impossible to get rid of."

Viktor scoffed. "Naturally, one has to be in such a world of your description. I'm not quite sure how to feel being compared to a common weed, but I'll take it as a compliment, nevertheless."

"Wha— no, I mean—"

Viktor paused, eyeing Jayce,

His eyes a blazing, brilliant gold. "And since when did you know so much about botany?"

Jayce's breath caught.

The barest of threads. The needle-point tip of hope. "I'm…not calling you stubborn. If anything you're the orchid. And besides…" Jayce wasn't about to get ahead of himself. "My mamá did raise some prize-winning orchids…She taught me a thing or two about caring for them." He just needed patience.

Viktor raised a brow. "Wait, you think you're the dandelion?"

Jayce blinked. "You think I'm an orchid?"

Viktor sent him a flat look. "Jayce."

"Viktor," Jayce returned with equal disbelief.

"Do you want to check off some boxes?" Viktor raised a plucked bloom, seeming to sway in agreement. "Sensitive, for one."

Jayce sputtered. "Me?!"

"By your very definition," Viktor muttered, having woven in a flower or two to the ruined thing he'd taken from Jayce's hands. "You carry a blanket to the lab because you get chilly."

Jayce froze.

"You insisted on getting a cot in the lab when we had a perfectly respectable couch," Viktor counted off as he wove another flower with deft movements. “And you always had to have your coffee just right,” Viktor argued. “And you had to drink it out of your special mug. That I bought! And that you broke after a month!”

"Viktor…" Jayce murmured, heart thundering in the cage of his ribs. Even then, he couldn't help the wobbly smile lifting at the edges of his lips.

Of course his partner's memories would start to return,

All to prove him wrong.

Ever a scientist. "You even get defensive with our intellectual disagreements! Not to mention—you completely changed your entire tone and ideology after spending, what, a week in the council? You became a completely different person, it was terrifying—"

Jayce winced. "I know, I…"

"And you have the audacity to say you—cared for me like—a fragile little flower?" Viktor gave a derisive snort, shaking his head, having swiftly woven a few more blooms with every hammering point.

"I do care for you, I just—" Jayce handed him another flower; an apology that came far too late. "I lost my way…"

Viktor accepted it without hesitation. "I know you hadn't meant to." The flower and perhaps the apology too. He gave a weary sigh. "I know you wanted to do what was best. But Jayce, you change so drastically depending on your environment, and it hurt because I did see you were struggling, but I couldn't reach you, so if anything, you're—"

Viktor froze.

Jayce held his breath.

The crown dropped from Viktor's hands. Jayce held them through the shock, the tremors, the dawning realization, holding fast, holding tight before Viktor was swept away by the deluge of the past.

"Jayce…" Viktor gasped in shaky, staccato breaths.

"Viktor…" he pleaded, drawing him close, watching every flicker of emotion. "Is it you?" His voice broke off at the edges into a sob. "Do I have my partner back?"

"I…" Viktor shut his eyes, expression crumbling as his voice fell to a whisper. "I don't know…"

"Hey, hey…" he murmured, ignoring the screaming ache in his leg to bring Viktor into his arms. "It's all right…" he soothed, unsure if the words were directed at Viktor or to himself.

"Jayce—we—I—"

"I'm right here," Jayce reassured, arms wrapped around him, resting his head on his partner's trembling shoulders. "That's all that matters." Jayce blinked the tears from his eyes, hope tearing open a hole in his heart. "I'm right here. With you…"

"You shouldn't be…" Viktor murmured against his shoulder. "You should have gone when you had the chance."

"No, never…" Jayce tightened his hold. "Not without you."

"I…" A sob wracked through Viktor's lithe frame. "The things I did—"

"It wasn't you— it was that thing, that parasite—"

"It was still me, Jayce…" Viktor whispered, voice barely able to carry the weight of his words. "In the end, it was still me underneath it all."

The mannequins.

The people Viktor turned.

The people Viktor was convinced he was helping—

The people Viktor was convinced he was saving—

"It wasn't, V…" Jayce shook his head, pulling away to wipe the tearstreaks from his partner's face. "I had to drag you out of there myself." Even when Viktor tried to pull away. "And with help from some friends." Jayce traced the faintest lines of iridescence on his face. The cracks of a mask falling to pieces. To break open that shell of corrupted magic and false ideologies,

To find his perfectly imperfect partner. "But I got you back…"

Viktor was giving him that exact look again. Jayce hadn't known if it had been hours, days, or eons since Jayce last saw him like this. His partner.

His Viktor.

Somehow still doubting him all this time. “Why…why…do you keep coming back for me?”

Jayce looked fondly at him, his face warm and his vision blurring with tears. “Because you're right, V. You're no orchid. You…you could thrive anywhere. You're stubborn, resilient, a downright nuisance when you want to be, and you fought every step of the way for your survival." Jayce leaned down, brushing a kiss to the corner of his eye as more and more tears streamed down his partner's face. "And I…I lost my way when you were out of my sight."

My place was always in the lab—

With you.

"Who am I without you, Viktor?" Who was he without the only home his heart had ever known? "I don’t know how to exist without you.”

And here, in a strange land, their past scattered in the winds with the sins written on oilspill scars and etched across an endless sky,

In a field of flowers with his partner in his arms, and every wish that ever mattered coming true,

The dandelions began to bloom.

(the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)

"We're not in Runeterra anymore, are we," Viktor murmured.

They followed the water hoping to reach someplace, somewhere, away from the widening maw of distortion just hidden beneath the stretch of clouds. But no matter how far they walked, no matter how many hours passed,

It seemed like they'd traveled nowhere at all.

Jayce squeezed his hand.

The river rushed in a quiet babble. The trail just beyond them seemed to stretch to infinity, towards impossibility.

"No…we're not," Jayce agreed. "But I think…we were only meant to pass by this place. Not to stay."

The longer they stared at the empty stretch of road, the more the landscape around them flickered, a mirror distorting ever-so-slightly as they watched it from a tilted angle.

"Where do you think the rest of this road will take us?" Viktor asked, and for a moment, for a breath, Viktor was bathed in starlight, nebulas dancing off the gold in his eyes.

"I don't know," Jayce admitted. "We'll never find out until we get there."

Viktor nodded. "It's…frightening, isn't it? The unknown. Whether it takes us home, or somewhere we've never been."

Jayce shrugged, falling into step with his partner, their walking sticks etching a print on the dirt. Perhaps the only proof of their existence they'll leave in this place. "It's not so bad."

Viktor chuckled. "How can you be so sure?" He tugged the blanket tighter over his shoulders. "What if it takes us nowhere, or somewhere in-between?"

"Then, we'll find a way forward together."

A brazen statement. Hubris caught aloft on a summer breeze. Viktor could only scoff.

Jayce smiled as he felt Viktor squeeze back in response.