AN: Hi! Some of you may know me as agonothymicInsomniac on Ao3! I decided it was time to cross-post for more feedback! Here's a fic back from June '15. So, enjoy and leave a review :) !
Vi untangled her fingers from Caitlyn's hair. The dark-haired beauty was curled up against her side, her warm hand laid upon her chest, fingernails grazing the enforcer's collarbone. Another restless night for only one of them, it seemed.
Vi peered over at her lover, who was busy snoring softly. If only Cait knew what was happening.
If only Vi could tell her…
She reluctantly let Caitlyn's hand slip off of her as she climbed out of bed, the sheriff barely stiring.
Quietly, she slid the screen door open, stepping out onto the balcony and taking in the view of Piltover. The City of Progress. Vi laughed bitterly at the thought. When it wasn't funny anymore, she allowed herself to frown. To show weakness. She took a drag off her cigarette and lit it, hoping her worries would blow away with the smoke.
So Ekko was back. And he damn well remembered what Vi had done, and she knew he'd never forgive her unless she went back to being a criminal. A member of their gang.
But life wasn't a game anymore.
Vi had found a meaning, had found a purpose. A lover, even. In Zaun, she had been nothing but a lackey, a child wandering the streets carrying out whatever scheme she was given, regardless of the cost.
Her life had been worth nothing. Less than nothing.
While other kids came home with paper cuts and bruised knees, she slept in the slums, nursing a broken rib this week, a broken nose that week. And although she could protect herself against such things now, why would she want to go back to the nights where she was barely scraping by?
When she had smoked her cigarette down to the filter, she stabbed the end out in the ashtray.
God, she needed to relax. To forget about it.
Slipping back into the house, she glanced at the clock. 4AM. What was the point of sleeping on these toxic thoughts? Instead of trying to catch two hours of what would probably be restless sleep, Vi figured she may as well try to be productive and get a lazy, albeit practical, head start by taking a shower. What the wind couldn't carry would be flushed down the drain. Maybe, when it was a little later, she would even make her and Cait a good breakfast!
Yes... that sounded perfect.
Humming a upbeat tune in an attempt to pump herself up, she stripped down to her underwear, leaving her nightclothes on top of the dresser. She ran her fingers through her hair and headed to the bathroom, grabbing a towel out of the adjacent closet.
She stopped as soon as she walked through the door.
The towel fell and wrinkled at her feet. Her fists clenched, short nails digging into her palm.
In thick black paint on the mirror:
SELLOUT
Vi took a deep breath, and another. She clenched and unclenched her fists for what seemed like years. She felt empty, for a moment. What came after was blind rage. She cried out, kicking her towel out of the way and lunging at the mirror.
When her fist came into contact with the word, the mirror shattered. She held back sobs, but let herself scream as she did it. Vi may as well have blacked out, for all she remembered of the moment. She cradled her bloodied hand and bent down, slumped over her own legs–how did she get down to her knees?
It had to be him. Had to be Ekko. A million questions ran through her head: How did he get in? How did he know where she lived? Was she in danger? Was she putting Cait in danger? When did he do this, and why?
And, despite not regretting any of her decisions, why did she feel so guilty?
"Vi…," she heard from behind her, barely a whisper.
Fuck.
Caitlyn stood at the doorway, her hands held out slightly in front of her, as if Vi was a wild animal about to lunge. The sight only made Vi feel worse about how she had acted out, but she could hardly blame her for being cautious. She doubted she would have acted differently.
"H… hey…," Vi whispered, trying and failing to flash a broken smile. Only then did Caitlyn allow herself to kneel down next to her and take her hand into her own. Vi took a sharp breath in as Caitlyn examined her hand, taking note of all the small glass shards that had stuck and the small flecks of paint she'd have to rinse off.
Caitlyn pressed her lips softly to Vi's tattoo before retrieving a first aid kit and leading them both to a different room to avoid the wreck. She pushed her long hair over her shoulder (Vi was sad she could not do it herself) and used the tweezers to start pulling some of the glass out. Vi winced with every shard that was removed.
"You're not feeling lightheaded?" Caitlyn asked, noticing the blood came out in a small but steady stream.
Vi shook her head, sucking air through her teeth as Caitlyn washed and rubbed a deep red disinfectant over her wound.
"This could have been much worse."
"Couldn't possibly be too much worse, Cupcake. How's it lookin'?"
Caitlyn began to wrap gauze tightly over her knuckles, which had suffered the most damage. "Just fine, for now," she said, kissing each knuckle when she had . "We'll just have to keep an eye on it. There's little more the hospital could do, but if the bandages bleed through…"
The pair sat in silence, Caitlyn running her thumb over the back of Vi's hand. Neither looked at each other much.
Vi stared at her lover's manicured nails, painted navy blue. She willed her hand to stop aching, or to stop bleeding at the very least. A visit to the emergency room was hardly any fun.
It was the sheriff that finally broke the silence, her voice ringing like a shot fired into the night.
"What happened?"
In that moment, Cait's voice pierced straight through Vi. She sounded confused, distressed. Commanding, but not angry. Vi had never seen her so worried.
An excuse, an excuse, an excuse. That was all she needed. Vi tried to think of a good story, but Caitlyn knew better. The hesitation only made it easier to see through her.
So Vi said the worst thing possible.
"Nothing."
Caitlyn's thumb stopped moving. It was only then that Vi realized she was looking at her, and they both stared deep into each other's eyes. Slightly ashamed, Vi broke the contact after a few long seconds.
Caitlyn tried again, " I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong."
Vi let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding.
"Your records show very little about my childhood, right?" Vi asked. When she got a slow nod in response, she continued. "Well shit, Cupcake, though I don't remember much, what I do know is pretty… distinct." She kept talking as Caitlyn led them back to their bed, the two resting not in dissimilar positions from prior in the night. "You know the rundown. I was working for some bad people. But it wasn't just me. There were a few of us." Vi turned to face Caitlyn. "I had become good friends with one of our youngest. Well, not ours. But he was in a similar line of work. Ekko, we called him. His heart was in our actions, maybe he thought we were doing something good, but… he misunderstood. Didn't know how this kind of thing worked or how bad Zaun's crime syndicates power had gotten." Caitlyn lightly ran her nails back and forth over Vi's arm. "As I got older, I saw how corrupted everyone had become. And when I broke off from them, I never expected to see any of them again. Not ever. Definitely not after I accepted your job offer. But now…" Vi trailed off. Caitlyn understood.
"I'm sorry," Caitlyn said, nuzzling into her lover's tattooed shoulders.
"You know, he had parents. That was more than most of us could say. But since they worked long hours, he got away with a lot." Vi hesitated, biting her lip. "Cait… to this day I wonder if I had just… said anything to them, then he wouldn't have… that I could have…"
Caitlyn pressed her thumb gently to Vi's lips to silence her. "It's not your fault."
And for a fleeting second, Vi believed her.
Long stretches of words left unsaid occupied the spaces between the two.
"Since your… old cohort knows where I live, do you feel safe here?" Caitlyn asked.
"I will, once you're holding me," Vi said with a small chuckle. Caitlyn obliged and snaked her arms around her lover's muscular waist. "But… to tell you the truth, I don't know. Do you?"
She paused. "I don't know. I can make arrangements, if it comes to that," she responded, her voice but a whisper.
Vi sheepishly smiled, and when Caitlyn kissed her she responded with tired, but long, kisses.
Caitlyn, breaking it for only a moment, breathlessly asked, "What did I do for this?"
Vi grinned, looking away nervously, "Because you saved me back then. Gave me an opportunity. A life."
Caitlyn resumed their kiss, giggling as Vi's cold hands drifted up her stomach.
"You never needed saving."
That night, there was no teasing or punishments to be had with Caitlyn.
No, that night Vi latched onto Caitlyn's head for life, her wrists left unbound and her heels against her lover's back. Later, Caitlyn had latched onto the headboard of the bed above Vi's beautiful face, her hand gently squeezing Vi's injured one.
It wasn't their normal.
It was free, uncensored, helpless love.
Somehow, it helped Vi realize this was exactly where she wanted to be. Past and future be damned.
Ekko pulled his scarf tighter around his neck. Piltover sure was cold when you were standing on the roof of a small, but lavish, penthouse. Somehow, the one next to him managed to be bigger and better. He knew it was where Vi lived now, though she didn't technically pay for the place. She lived with that Piltie Cop Caitlyn.
Ekko had already felt betrayed when Vi had left, but sleeping with the very person who took her from home? Even he didn't think she'd stoop so low.
Maybe he should have felt remorse for writing on their mirror. Ekko laughed at the thought of the best criminal he knew sharing a mirror and a bedwith the worst cop he knew. This had to be a first.
The next time he looked over at their apartment, the curtains on the screen door seemed to have been quickly drawn.
Ekko sighed. He had hoped to catch Vi at her balcony and swing over. Try to convince her, somehow, to come back home.
That was apparently not going to happen. "Too busy with her Piltover whore," he bitterly mumbled under his breath.
That was okay. There were 365 days a year, and Ekko knew how to make every second count.
She'd come back to Zaun.
They always did.