Chapter Text
Vi keeps her hand steady on the wheel, gaze fixed straight ahead on the road. The silence in the cab of the truck is unnatural, unfamiliar; it’s not like the quiet and peace she’d gotten used to over the past three years, the comforting feeling of calm she’d grown to look forward to every night. Instead, now, underneath the weight of an impossibly everyday sun, the weight of the unspoken awkwardness in the truck settles deep in Vi’s gut, settles like fallen ash, deep into her marrow, stains the vibrancy that once had been there.
She bleeds, unseen. The wounds are deep, the scarring deep gouges in her heart.
Vi had been told it’d be difficult. She’d known that, prepped for it, tried and failed to defend her broken heart against it.
But it’s so hard. It’s so hard being alone and not alone, so hard to look at the woman sitting next to her and seeing her loved one and knowing she isn’t there anymore, not like she used to be.
A part of Vi wishes — it’s a dark wish, a desperate one, fragments of despair coagulating into something awful but Vi wishes it all the same — a part of her wishes she could’ve forgotten Caitlyn too, the way Caitlyn’s forgotten her.
Vi keeps her hand on the wheel, clenching it tighter to hide the trembling, breathes in to stop herself from looking, again, at the woman next to her. Caitlyn, but not Caitlyn. It’s Caitlyn but it isn’t, she isn’t the same Caitlyn, she isn’t the Caitlyn who loved her—
“I believe it’s the next right,” says Caitlyn, next to Vi, her voice quiet — Vi recognizes the tone, tension underneath each syllable, an awareness of just who the two of them are now and what it means for the both of them to drive on this long trip, to not look back but Vi can’t help but rewind time and see it all over again, the life they’d had before and the shattered reflection of it she’s living in right now.
“Yeah, thank you,” Vi says. She’s impressed her voice is level. She feels anything but.
She takes the next right, hands moving methodically on the wheel, pointedly still not looking at her…companion. Partner? No, they’re not partners anymore. The right word is…But they’re not really friends either. They’re strangers, at best. As far as Vi knows, Caitlyn doesn’t see her as anything but an unknown, like an empty blurry space in a picture that she can’t recognize.
Vi is not exactly sure what Caitlyn’s last memory of her is — maybe the first time they’d met in Stillwater? Does Caitlyn even remember that? That hadn’t been a great first impression; the Vi from five years ago had been a snarling, angry little street rat, and she’d made sure to give that new Chief of the Wardens a piece of her mind.
The memory makes Vi wince.
If that’s Caitlyn’s only memory of her, Vi knows there’s a long, long road ahead of them. For her, to heal and grieve. For Caitlyn, to remember, or…move on.
Vi keeps driving. She doesn’t say anything to Caitlyn, and Caitlyn says nothing to her — just looks out the window, fingers fidgeting in her lap, occasionally glancing at Vi in the reflection of the glass.
—-
“Yeah, yeah, we made it safe,” Vi says into the phone shoved between her ear and shoulder; she grunts as she leans back against the front door, hauling in one of the last few boxes into the lakeside cottage that’s meant to be their home for the next few months. “We’re good, Mel, it’s fine, I have things under control.”
“Good. I’m glad the new phone also works well.”
Vi snorts. “It’s a hell of an upgrade. I can actually download apps on this thing. Don’t have to keep deleting apps just to take a few photos.”
“I still can’t believe you were walking around with a phone from five years ago! Living in the stone ages like that must’ve been awful,” Mel chuckles, then pauses. “You could say this is…one good thing, about this witness protect program. You get new things, Vi.”
Too many new things, some of which were unwanted, like living with a woman that doesn’t remember anything about her other than she’s prone to punching and lashing out and probably thinks she’s a violent criminal.
Vi, of course, doesn’t say any of that.
“Yeah, the new digs are nice,” she says instead. From the foyer of the cottage, Vi turns down a short hallway, two doors leading to two separate bedrooms with their own separate bathrooms. She ignores the twinge in her chest, the strangeness at this new place that is nothing like the home she’d made in Piltover, that penthouse apartment she’d gotten used to sharing with a partner. “I like the sidehouse place, building, thing? The place that has a gym and an office. It’s really nice, I like it being separate from the main building.”
“I figured you’d like a place of your own to work,” Mel says. “I know you need time to heal too, Vi. I hope it serves you well.”
“Wish I could invite you, Jinx, and, you know, the other guys,” Vi puts the box down in her bedroom, gripping the phone normally in her hand as she heads back out to the truck to grab another box.
“I would love nothing more than to come visit you both, and I’m sure Jinx would say the same, but you know how these protection programs are,” Mel says. “Best that no one close to you know where you are, exactly, until…the matter with the assailant is resolved.” Her voice goes tight at the end.
“…Yeah,” Vi says. She stops on the front porch, swallowing. She doesn’t rewind time; she refuses, she can’t look at that night, can’t think of it, not right now, not when she’s still raw and bleeding.
Mel draws her back to the present.
“But you can still call, of course. Call, or video chat. You know I’m here for you and Caitlyn, and I’m sure your family would say the same. Do give them a call tonight, please? I was told explicitly by your sister that if I didn’t confirm your safety within the next hour, she’s to pelt my house with paint balls.”
That gets a chuckle out of Vi. Good ol’ Jinx. “Yeah, yeah, no problem, I’ll call her. Speaking of, can I still call Lux, and Ekko? I’m allowed to call them, right?”
There’s a short pause, as if Mel is thinking. “Lux is acting Chief of the Wardens until Caitlyn’s recovered, so I think it is permissible for you to contact her for updates on the investigation. Ekko technically is not…officially part of the case, but I won’t say anything.”
Ekko’s Firelights technically weren’t sanctioned by the Council, but Vi knew what Mel meant. Ekko still had a slight distrust for topsiders, but even though it was unsaid, Vi knew Caitlyn had earned the man’s trust over the long years.
And now said man was on the hunt, too. It’d made Vi tear up when Ekko had given her that promise.
“Great, thanks, Mel. Anything else? I really gotta get back to unloading.”
“Nothing else of import to tell you. You’re aware of the ground rules — don’t stray too far from town, keep a low profile, if anyone asks, show your fake identities. You have those memorized, correct?”
“Yeah.” Vi doesn’t comment further. She feels the burn in her back pocket, her wallet, the false ID there that has a fake last name that matches the fake ID in Caitlyn’s wallet. Vi doesn’t think of how she’d once stupidly whispered to herself her own name, appended with Kiramman at the end, and heard Caitlyn laugh behind her.
Vi doesn’t think that. She doesn’t listen to the old echoes.
“Anything else, Mel?” Vi asks, voice strained, and not from picking up a heavy box from the truck.
“No, other than I want you both to take care.” Mel pauses again, and Vi can almost picture the woman’s pensive expression as she stood at the windows of her grand office, at the top floor of the Medarda city building. “I know…it’s hard, Vi. I’m sorry. Maybe Caitlyn will remember you in time.”
Or maybe she won’t.
Vi doesn’t say that aloud.
“We’ll work on things,” Vi says, voice hollow. “Call you later.”
“Goodbye, and give Caitlyn my regards.”
Vi hangs up, lugs the heavy box back into her bedroom, and as she sets it down onto the floor, she hears a faint knock on the doorframe.
When Vi straightens up, Caitlyn stands there, hesitant, pursing her lips in that way of hers when she’s uncertain. She’s doing that thing too, hands fidgeting in front of her, and Vi doesn’t comment on it, just gives a little nod of acknowledgement, gesturing a hand for Caitlyn to say her piece.
“Um, Vi?” Caitlyn starts. She doesn’t say Vi’s name right, it’s…unsteady, a different kind of tone that isn’t something Vi recognizes. It makes Vi’s heart ache. “There’s this box, of clothes with my name on it, but I don’t recognize any of the…articles? They might be yours?”
Vi knows what she’s talking about, and has to mentally reprimand herself. Caitlyn’s perception of her own wardrobe from five years ago was radically different than what it was before the incident; of course she wouldn’t recognize—
“Right, yeah.” Vi crosses over into Caitlyn’s bedroom with her, kneeling down at said open box and looking at the array of jerseys and sweaters that she used to call her own until Caitlyn had methodically stolen them all, winter by winter, year by year, claiming them for herself. “Those used to be mine, but…you liked wearing them, so I just…let you have them.”
“Oh,” Caitlyn says, voice quiet.
Vi doesn’t look at Caitlyn’s expression; she doesn’t need to, because they’ve had small bits and pieces of conversations like these scattered with each other the past few weeks, ever since Caitlyn woke up in a sterile white room and a frantic Vi had instead been confronted with a woman who’d been horrified to see her there, terrified that Vi had been the one to put her in that hospital bed with a grievous wound to her head.
“I’ll take them back,” Vi says, voice steady. She’s impressed by herself, really, holding herself together like this in front of Caitlyn. She bends down, picks up the box, and doesn’t look at Caitlyn as she crosses back into her own bedroom.
How Vi’s gut had twisted, standing in the hospital corridor, listening to the sympathetic doctor’s explanation of Caitlyn’s amnesia. Five years, gone. Obliterated, disintegrated into dust. Everything they’d had — just gone.
All those mornings, those evenings, the sunrises, the sunsets. The adventures, the hunts, the chases. The secrets and whispers, the laughs and giggles. Gone.
If Jinx hadn’t been there, hadn’t been gripping her arm, shaking, looking at her with such terror, Vi would’ve ripped herself out of that hospital in seconds, gone hunting into the night with a ferocity and focus unparalleled. Vi would’ve gone to the damn ends of the planet, would’ve found that man and his smiling white mask and throttled him with her own fucking bare hands—
But no, Jinx had been there, fingernails digging crescents into her wrists, fear plunged in her heart — not just fear that Vi would die too from hunting a man whose bullets went just as far and just as accurately as Caitlyn’s, but that the raging abomination tearing Vi apart from the inside out was something else entirely.
The two sisters had been together their whole lives, and Vi knew, at that moment, standing in the hospital and looking down at her sister’s face, she knew, she knew, Jinx had never seen this kind of fury in her before.
It’s why Vi had stayed, why Vi had listened to reason.
Vi sets the box of Caitlyn’s — no, her jerseys, her sweaters — she sets it down in her room, and goes back outside to the truck. She pretends not to see that Caitlyn’s still standing in her room, hands fidgeting, glancing up at her as she leaves.
—-
The cottage still needs some unpacking done, but Vi manages to get mostly basic necessities and things set up; thankfully, the cottage came furnished, and there’s only a few household things Vi does to make the place livable for a day until she can head out tomorrow and run errands. She’ll setup the office later, and check out the gym in the morning.
Clearing her throat, Vi raps on the doorframe of Caitlyn’s bedroom. Caitlyn sits at the end of the bed, looking over a binder — the doctor’s notes, scheduled appointments and activities for her to go through as the two live in the safehouse. There are boxes they’re meant to open during their designated ‘memory sessions,’ filled with memorabilia and things to help Caitlyn’s memory. Vi has her own copy of the binder, and she’s memorized it already.
“Leftovers from lunch are in the fridge,” Vi says, looking somewhere a little bit to the left of Caitlyn’s face. “Feel free to, you know, have whatever you want. I’ll head out tomorrow and get things for us while you check in with the doctor.”
“Alright.” Caitlyn nods. “That sounds great.”
“Great.” Vi gives her own nod. “Are you feeling alright, any headaches, any—?”
“No, no. I’ve taken my medicine for the evening. I’m feeling fine.” Caitlyn reaches up and tucks her hair behind her ear, her fingers trembling as they ghost over that spot, by her temple. Clearing her throat, she says, “I’ll let you know if I need assistance.”
“Cool, yeah, let me know if you feel any pain, or need something, I’ll just be, you know.” Vi makes a lame gesture behind her. “‘Night, then.”
“Yes, thank you. Good night.”
It’s a foreign feeling, strange, and uncomfortable, but Vi closes the door to her bedroom. She sits down on the bed, takes out her phone, tries not to think of how weird it is to not see a cracked screen with a background wallpaper of herself and Caitlyn at the carnival—
Vi swipes up on the lock screen, and decides right then and there she’ll keep the default wallpaper.
She video calls Jinx.
Her heart’s so wounded still but it lifts slightly, seeing her sister’s face pop up on the screen, brightly grinning at her, face illuminated with that brightass lamp she always has on at her workshop table.
“Vi! You’re okay!” Jinx says excitedly, and the screen fumbles for a second as Jinx presumably sets the phone against something on the workshop table. “How’s the move? You done unpacking?”
“Yeah,” Vi says, unable to help her own smile. “Wasn’t hard at all. You know how good these babies are.” Vi moves the phone away to fit herself and her flexing arm in the frame, pressing a kiss to her bicep.
“Ugh.” Jinx rolls her eyes. “You know, muscles aren’t everything.”
“You say that, and then you’ll complain to me when you don’t have me around to open your pickle jars.”
“That was one time! One fucking time! And besides.” Jinx reaches down, disappearing underneath her table for a second before she pulls out something that looks like the claw of a claw machine. With a smug expression, she says, “This baby, I call it the bigass jar-opener, means I can replace you and your stupid muscles.”
“You literally stole that thing from a jank arcade machine in the junkyard, Jinx. I was there, remember?”
Jinx makes a face, pouting and frowning, and that gets Vi to laugh out loud — Jinx’s face softens a little.
“Knew my stupid sister was still in there somewhere,” Jinx says affectionately. Her face drops a little though, and she touches the subject Vi knows was coming. “So…how are things? With…Caitlyn? Any…anything new?”
Vi bites her lip, turns and looks away, staring at the foot of her bed. “No, nothing really new. Still…still doesn’t remember me. We’re just…vibing, I guess. Hanging out here.”
“I’m sorry, Vi,” Jinx says, voice small. “I thought…I hoped you guys taking a roadtrip together would do something.”
“No, nothing. I don’t even think…I still don’t think she believes we were…we were together,” Vi whispers, a confession she hadn’t wanted to say aloud but needed to; she needed to talk to someone, to control the spilling of her heart onto the floor so it wouldn’t threaten to constantly overflow out of herself at any second in front of Caitlyn. “I don’t…Like, to her, I’m still an inmate at Stillwater. For all she knows I’m a crazy criminal or something.”
“But you’re not,” Jinx says, brow furrowed. “I can get Lux to send over the official records — you were falsely imprisoned by that asswipe, Marcus. Just show Caitlyn that.”
“I guess,” Vi says, still unconvinced. “It’s like starting from step one, all over again, you know? And this time, I don’t have the benefit of helping her take down a street gang.”
Despite their tumultuous first introduction, Caitlyn had gotten Vi out a few months after her imprisonment once Marcus had been rightfully shown to be corrupt. From there, the new Chief had apparently sought justice in its most righteous form; freeing Vi but with the condition of asking her to help take down the chembaron’s gang that’d framed Vi in the first place.
And Vi had proven herself. Vi can still recall, with clarity, the morning after as wardens hauled away the beat up criminals and the indignant chembaron and Caitlyn and Vi stood at the docks together. At the time, Vi had figured that’d be the end of it — she got her freedom, did as Caitlyn had asked. As she held out her bandaged, bloodied hand to Caitlyn to say job well done and bargain upheld, Caitlyn had instead grasped it and held on.
That’d started everything.
“Not that I don’t think going through hell and lots of bullets and shit together is a great way to bond and stuff,” Jinx says, rolling her eyes a little. “But you can gain Cait’s trust another way too, you know. Being nice to her, hanging out with her, helping her with whatever the fuck she needs. You know, normal people things.”
Vi swallows, grimaces, shakes her head. “It doesn’t feel the same, Jinx. I can tell. She doesn’t trust me. I don’t even think she likes me.”
“Because she doesn’t know you yet, dummy. You’re gonna be stuck together for the next couple of months anyway, she’s gonna have no one else to talk to.” Jinx kicks back in her chair, propping up her feet on the table. “It’s gonna take time, sis. Don’t give up, okay?” Her expression and voice softens.
Vi can’t help a chuckle, giving a small shake of her head. “Damn, when did you become the big sis, huh?”
“Since that time you thought Bigfoot was real,” Jinx deadpanned. “So, like, forever.”
“That picture of Bigfoot was totally fucking legit, you asshole—”
The two sisters jab and tease at each other, like they used to, but Vi tries not to notice that it’s weird doing this without Caitlyn laughing at her side. Normally, Jinx would even toss out a few digs and little snide remarks about Little Miss Perfect but she doesn’t, not this time.
She’s a good sister. Jinx knows when to cross lines, when to step back. It makes Vi miss her all the more, knowing she won’t be able to be with her sister for a while.
“I think Lux’ll be back from the station anytime now, so I’m gonna go,” Jinx says, putting down one of her more recent works-in-progress on the table, an enhanced form of radar. It’d been Vi’s last request, before she’d left with Caitlyn to the safehouse; Vi had wanted something to give her better warning the next time she went out on the hunt. “Call me whenever, okay? Doesn’t matter what time. You know I’ll skip lecture to talk with ya.”
“Don’t skip class,” Vi chuckles. “Vik’ll chew me out if you come close to truancy again.”
Jinx scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Vik knows I’m smarter than all those bozos. I don’t need class to know how to build cool shit.”
“You know what I mean, Jinx. Be good, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Jinx’s face scrunches up a little, like she’s fighting back a sniffle. Softer, quieter, she says, “Don’t give up, Vi. I mean it. Don’t give up on her. I know you guys’ll figure it out.”
“Yeah,” Vi says, but she doesn’t have as much conviction as her voice as she’d like. “Talk to ya later, sis.”
“Later, gator.”
Vi settles into bed, trying not to think of how lonely it feels to not have someone next to her. She rolls onto her side, presses her face into her pillow, and tries really hard not to cry, but a sob chokes itself out anyway.
—-
Vi wakes up early, like she always does, and gets herself ready for a morning run. When she leaves her bedroom, Caitlyn’s door is closed. Vi pauses outside of it, just briefly, but then shakes her head and goes to the kitchen, rummaging around in boxes to pull out her favorite mug and Caitlyn’s favorite mug, then she fires up the coffee machine and sets the kettle on to boil.
She’ll get coffee after her run, but she leaves Caitlyn’s favorite tea leaves on the counter, next to the mug.
The doctor had told her to try and do small things, to help Caitlyn remember. Going over everything in the past few years all at once was a no-no; it’d hinder the recovery process, having a flood of information overwhelming Caitlyn all at once. Instead, doing small routine things over the months would help ease Caitlyn into the transition, warming her up to bigger memories to uncover over time.
Vi didn’t object. She still doesn’t really know how to talk to this…this version, of Caitlyn, anyway.
Vi goes out on her morning run, finding a nice and easy trail to follow around the lake by the cottage. The air is brisk, cool, and it helps clear her head and ease the hardwired tension in her body. It feels good, familiar. Back in Piltover, usually it was Vi who’d get up early and go on a run before she’d return to do their usual morning routines, waking up Caitlyn, making breakfast, heading out to the station for a day of work.
Except, when Vi ends her run and slowly walks her way back to the cottage, she doesn’t know what to do about…this Caitlyn. Would she want to be woken up, by Vi? Cait’s doctor’s appointment isn’t until later. But maybe Vi should wake her up, because it’s what they used to do? But maybe she shouldn’t, because it’d be weird if Vi just went into her room and woke her up, because that seems kind of creepy—
Vi opts to simply keep her distance and do nothing with Caitlyn. It’s easier than having her brain go crazy trying to think of what to do.
Except there are still some things that are instinctive, automatic. Vi enters the cottage and heads straight to the kitchen, tearing off her sweaty t-shirt, leaving on only her shorts and sports bra as she opens the fridge, grasps a water bottle, snaps off the cap and chugs it in one go.
It’s only when she turns around does she see Caitlyn sitting at the tiny dining table at the side of the room, avidly staring at her, lips parted.
“Oh, fuck,” Vi hisses, frantically trying to put her shirt back on. “Shit, sorry—didn’t know you were—”
“No, no,” Caitlyn says hurriedly, abruptly raising her cup of tea to her lips, gaze darting away to look at a speck on the table. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare—”
“No, it’s fine, sorry, I should’ve kept my shirt on—”
“It’s fine—”
Vi manages to dodge even more awkward confrontation by quickly ejecting herself from the kitchen and going to her bathroom to shower. When she finishes, purposefully wearing far more nicer clothing than she’s used to — a button-up and jeans — she sees Caitlyn sitting on the couch in the living room, laptop on her lap as she scrolls through news.
Caitlyn glances up as she walks in. “I’m just catching up on some things. I’ve taken my medicine for the morning, and I’ll meet with the doctor in half an hour.”
“Great.” Vi nods. It’s weird, having a conversation with Caitlyn and yet at the same time, it’s like they’re talking about nothing at all. Caitlyn talks to her matter-of-factly, as if Vi were her assigned caretaker and not…
Well, Vi realizes bitterly. She kind of is technically her caretaker, and her bodyguard. Vi pushes down her discomfort.
“I’m gonna unpack the office, and then I’ll be out on errands for a bit for the rest of the day. Give me a call if you need anything,” Vi says.
Caitlyn nods, and then Vi leaves out the backdoor to the second, smaller building on the property. She’d put the boxes in the office last night, so today, Vi goes through the motions of unpacking, setting things onto the tables, setting up her own computer and gear, placing things in toolboxes and shelves and drawers. She holds in her hand for a minute the screwdriver Jinx had gifted her — more of a hand-me-down, but seeing the little scratched in monkeys and stupid doodles on the handle does give Vi a chuckle.
When she gets to opening a box of photos and memorabilia of her friends and family, she smiles to herself hanging up photos of herself, Jinx, Mylo and Claggor and some other Zaunite citizens they called their allies and friends; she makes a reminder to herself to make a call to her two brothers, who were out at sea as traveling sailors.
There’s a few more pictures of Vi in Piltover, either with family members or coworkers from the wardens, jovial snapshots of a life that felt so long ago.
It’s the photos buried at the bottom of the box that makes Vi’s gut twist, and she steels herself, withdrawing the few that are there. She’d never really had a penchant for taking photos — Caitlyn had been the one to do all that, and now Vi regrets not taking a few more.
With careful, delicate hands, Vi puts most of the photos into a little cabinet, away from where her gaze might snap to it and her heart might ache.
But one framed photo nestles in Vi’s hand as she sits in her chair, and she looks down at it for a long minute — remembering every second of that night, a party up in Piltover, Vi in a handsome suit and Caitlyn in the most gorgeous dress. It’s a candid shot, probably taken by Mel or Jayce or something, but Caitlyn sits in Vi’s lap, laughing, nestled close with an arm around Vi’s shoulders as Vi grins at the camera, holding up a glass of celebratory champagne.
A lifetime ago, another life, another person. Another kind of love.
With trembling hands, Vi puts the photo frame on her desk, tries to stomach looking at it for longer than a few more seconds, but then quickly puts the frame facedown. She’s not strong enough, not yet.
She continues unpacking. The pain fades, so long as she doesn’t look at painful reminders.
It’s the last box that sits by the door though that makes Vi sigh, closing her eyes for a minute, pinching the bridge of her nose. She’d left it for last on purpose, knew that its contents would bring to her a battle, an uphill one that’d last for…however many months, years, it took for her to find a conclusion.
Vi makes sure the giant, wall-sized corkboard on the wall is aligned straight, and then she methodically unpacks hers and Caitlyn’s notes about their last case, their last target, from the box. She puts up the torn-out sheets of paper, the scrawled sticky notes, the white-bordered photos, the red strings and colored pins and detailed maps, all on that board.
Vi can feel the old ghost of Caitlyn at her back, hand on her chin, looking at the year’s worth of careful observation. Vi can picture it, too, see the Caitlyn she’d loved in her uniform, her hat perfectly prim and proper atop her head as those calculating blue eyes looked over every detail, every missing piece in the puzzle displayed out before her.
Gritting her teeth, air hissing through her mouth, Vi screws her eyes shut and puts a hand over her face, trying not to lose herself again. She’d done it enough times in a hospital corridor — there’s no more tears left in her.
Clenching her hand into a fist, Vi looks up at the board, the long-simmering anger in her heart clawing itself out of the volcano, magma lapping up at the insides of her chest.
“I’ll find you, Jhin.” No poison, no venom, could match the death dripping out of Vi’s voice just then. “I’ll find you — you’ll fucking pay.”
They don’t have any clear concrete photos of one of the most elite assassins in the world. There’s just a single blurry one, from a far distance — a silhouette in the window, ominous white mask still an evil grin despite the fuzziness of the shot.
But Vi doesn’t need a photo. She can recall, with perfect clarity, that night, that night she’d failed—
A knock on the office door has Vi flinching, startled, heart pounding.
When she opens the door, it’s Caitlyn on the other side, hesitant as always.
Vi’s heart whiplashes uncomfortably; first seething anger, now pathetic heartache.
It only makes sense Caitlyn’s nervous around her though. Vi knows what she looks like, knows that Caitlyn only knows her by her criminal record.
“Vi? Are…are you busy?” Caitlyn asks, glancing around Vi and Vi suddenly remembers the doctor warning her to ease Caitlyn slowly into memories past — and only the gods know what’ll happen if Caitlyn sees reminders of the most brutal man they’d ever met —
Vi abruptly jerks forward, Caitlyn startling backward, Vi’s hand gripping the door handle so she can close it behind her.
“No, no, not busy,” Vi says quickly. “What did you need?”
Caitlyn looks at her for a beat, then back at the closed door — Vi knows Caitlyn knows she’s hiding something, and the two stand there for a second of silence.
“My appointment with the doctor ended early, since there’s not much news on my part. I was wondering if you’d like to go on errands, together,” Caitlyn says finally, and she straightens up a little — Vi remembers when the woman used to be taller than her, but ever since Vi had gotten her fill of fine Piltover dining and nutrition, she’d grown a few inches the past few years, had just an inch of height over Cait.
“You…wanna go together?” Vi asks, trying to figure out the different angles of that request, what it means, why she’d want to do this, how the day Vi had planned out in her mind of being alone was now breaking apart—
“Yes,” Caitlyn says, clearing her throat. “The doctor recommended I not be too far from you in any case,” She makes an awkward gesture at her head.
“Right.”
They stand there for a moment longer, and Vi realizes that Caitlyn’s expecting her to say her approval or denial.
Logically, there isn’t a reason to say no.
Emotionally, there's a thousand reasons to say no.
Vi tries to think, really quickly, of whether or not she can stomach going out to buy groceries with Caitlyn, whether she can ignore and push down the memories of domestic things she’d used to do with Caitlyn in the past.
Logically, the answer is no. No, Vi isn’t strong enough to snuff out those memories, memories that she craves so desperately, so desires to be real again. Logically, the correct thing to do is say ‘no’ to Caitlyn and save herself some of the inevitable pain.
Emotionally, Vi is stupid.
“Okay,” Vi says. “Get your things, I’ll meet you by the truck in ten.”
“Okay, great.” Caitlyn’s smile is small, and Vi can’t help one of her own — but it feels more like a grimace.
The short drive to town is yet again, another silent one. The forest scenery is nice, however, and Vi likes the different change in pace from the skyscrapers of Piltover and the junkheaps of Zaun.
They park at the grocery store, and as they walk towards the entrance, Vi says, “Remember, identities.”
“Of course.” Caitlyn nods at her.
It’s when Vi has her elbows on the shopping cart, looking at the handwritten list of things she needs to buy, does Caitlyn ask, “Did we do this, a lot? Luna?”
“Sorry?” Vi straightens up, blinking. She’ll have to get used to her new name in public. “Do what, Mira?”
“Go shopping, together. Do this, I mean.” Caitlyn waves a hand at the vegetables and fruits sitting before them on the stands.
Vi is silent for a long moment, not really sure of how to answer, but she decides the truth is the right thing to say. “Yeah, we did.” She leaves it at that, not wanting to add more.
Vi steps forward, and Caitlyn takes a startled step backward again, and Vi simply reaches around her to grab a few onions. She picks out the good ones, leaves the bad ones, and puts them into a clear bag.
“I’m sorry if that was a strange question to ask,” Caitlyn says tentatively, reaching out and taking an onion too, making a show of looking at it — but Vi knows, remembers, that the Caitlyn from five years ago hadn’t really ever gone grocery shopping on her own. The woman hadn’t ever really learned how to pick out the too-ripe fruit or aging vegetables from the best — why would she need to, when a servant or a delivery person could just do it for her?
“Ca—Mira, that’s a bad onion,” Vi chuckles. “See the spots, here? They’re kinda small, but tells you the onion’s not good. You also don’t want onions that are beginning to sprout.”
“Oh, right, yes, I knew that.” Caitlyn hurriedly puts the onion back down and Vi can’t help an amused huff, even though her heart sinks a little. This moment is an almost exact reflection of what the two had been through years ago, when Vi had first taken Caitlyn out on a grocery run.
Vi’s heart twinges. She shouldn’t have brought Caitlyn here, but in all their years together, she never quite figured out how to say no to her either.
As if to recover from her small failure, Caitlyn clears her throat and asks, “So, what exactly are we shopping for, again? Is there anything I can help with getting?”
“Sure. I’m gonna make you your favorite dumplings tonight for dinner. I thought you’d like something nice to remind you of home.” Vi hands over the written list to Caitlyn, who glances up at her in surprise. “Wanna grab the gyoza wrappers?”
“You…you know how to make my grandmother’s dumplings?” Caitlyn asks, a little breathless.
Vi just nods, looks away. “I’m gonna go grab the rest of the ingredients. Why don’t you get the wrappers, and grab whatever snacks and things you want?”
She doesn’t give Caitlyn a chance to really answer before she starts pushing the cart again, aiming towards the green vegetables.
Caitlyn does as she’s asked, returning a few minutes later with the wrappers and a few other things that Vi recognizes; tea bags, that one cereal that tastes bland as hell but Caitlyn likes anyway, and some biscuits. That much at least, is still the same, even after all these years.
They check out, and Vi predictably hauls all the grocery bags to the truck in one go, Caitlyn tailing behind her. On the way home, they make a quick stop at a sandwich joint for lunch, getting sandwiches to go before heading out on the road again.
Vi notices Caitlyn poking at her food as they drive, pensively looking out the window.
“It’s nice here,” Caitlyn says quietly.
“Yeah.” The scenery’s like the green forests by the Kiramman summer estate.
“It reminds me of my summer home,” Caitlyn says, glancing at Vi. “Have we…Have you been there?”
Vi has to bite her tongue, because, fuck, of course they think the same thing. “Yeah, a few times. We went together. You showed me your shooting range.” A light chuckle escapes Vi. “You whooped my ass at it, a lot.”
That manages to draw a smile from Caitlyn. “I think I, um, ‘whoop’ a lot of people’s asses when it comes to shooting, actually. Not to toot my own horn.”
“No, yeah,” Vi says, mildly amused. “You have every right to say that. You’re still an incredible marksman. People still call you ‘Piltover’s finest shot.’”
“Really? They still call me that?” Caitlyn says, a little bit exasperated, but she’s still smiling a little too. “Jayce was right. I can’t believe I haven’t gotten a better nickname in the past five years.”
Nicknames. Vi opens her mouth to try and give a casual reply, something to keep the conversation going, but something tight clenches around her chest and it’s hard to breathe.
It shows on Vi’s face apparently, because Caitlyn’s smile fades, hesitance replacing her expression again. “Sorry, did I…did I say something wrong?”
“No,” Vi forces out. “No, it’s fine.”
“…I had different nicknames, didn’t I.”
“Yeah,” Vi says, swallowing, keeping her eyes on the road. She makes a right turn, down the driveway to their cottage. “Yeah, you did.”
Parking the car, the two of them get out of the truck, Vi heading to the back to pick up their bags of groceries. Caitlyn makes to take one before Vi can object, and they walk inside the cottage in silence.
When Vi makes to put things away in the fridge, Caitlyn near her putting things in cabinets, Caitlyn says, “Can you…can you tell me, what other nicknames I had? I’m curious to know.”
Shutting her eyes for a second, Vi breathes in, breathes out. She closes the refrigerator door, looking at a spot on the floor near Caitlyn’s foot. “I…I can tell you about it, when we reach the part in your, uh, memory therapy about us. I don’t think now’s a good time to really talk about what we had. For me, anyway.”
It’s the truth. Vi desperately wants to get out of the room, to distract herself from buried memories.
“I understand,” Caitlyn says softly. Standing by the cabinets, she lowers her hands, fidgets with the hem of her shirt. “If my questions are too much, please, let me know—”
“No, no, you’re fine,” Vi says, doing a little shrug, putting more bravado in her voice than she needs to. “I get it. You’re still a detective — you’re supposed to ask questions. Don’t apologize for doing that, I just…I just need some time, you know?”
“Yes, I understand.” Caitlyn nods, the two of them standing so close in the kitchen yet also so far, a gap between their bodies that’s a solid wedge between them both.
“Anyway, uh.” Scratching the back of her head, Vi makes a gesture. “I’m gonna be in the gym or office for the rest of the day, so, let me know if you need anything.” She makes to leave—
“Wait, Vi?”
“Yeah?” Vi turns around.
Caitlyn stands there, looking hopeful. “When you’re making the dumplings, could I come help?”
“Yeah, ‘course. You’re the one who taught me how to make ‘em in the first place,” Vi chuckles.
Caitlyn’s smile — it’s sweet, but Vi can tell that her own face doesn’t quite match the same thing, because there’s a bit of sadness in Caitlyn’s gaze too.