Powder stared at the wood carving as it tumbled through the air. She didn't know what to expect as it hit the mirage. Perhaps she thought it would bounce back, perhaps she thought it would slip through the mirage only to reveal that what she saw was her mind playing tricks on her. Maybe it wasn't real, maybe it was just hopeful longing, a desire for an explanation of the unexplainable.

But instead of disappearing, instead of fading into nothing, the wood carving passed through the mirage, it tumbled through the air and then clattered onto the ground. But it wasn't her ground. Not the ground she had stepped upon, not the ground she knew. She stared. She stared and she couldn't tear her eyes away from what she was seeing.

The wood carving lay settled on the ground through the mirage. It appeared just as naturally as anything else she could see and Powder didn't dare move, didn't dare speak or even breathe. She was afraid doing any one of those things would break the spell, scare the mirage away, make her wake up from whatever dream she was having. And yet the longer she continued to look the more real everything seemed to be.

Powder swallowed hard as she took a moment to let what she was seeing sink in. She didn't want to put words to the things she was saying, in part because she didn't think she could describe it, in part because she was scared doing so would break the spell.

She leant to her left, she peered past the mirage and she stared back at Vi's shrine before moving to look back through the mirage. It was the same place, the same physical setting but there were differences. She leant to her right, she looked past the mirage and once more stared at Vi's shrine before leaning back to face the mirage and once more what she saw was just as it had been.

Powder blinked once, twice, she walked a little to her left and stared at the ground where she had thrown the wood carving and she saw nothing. No wood carving, no sign that something had been thrown and settled on the floor. No sign that anything had ever been present. She turned back to the mirage, she looked and just like it had been the wood carving remained on the ground.

It was like a window to another place, a window to a different world, something she couldn't explain yet. She didn't understand it enough, that much was certain. One tiny, curious, foolish part of her considered what it would be like if she stuck a hand through the mirage, if she got close enough to it to feel it, touch it, let her fingers press through the shimmering window but the smarter part of her, the sensible part of her told her to remain where she was.

She needed more answers, needed more explanations, more of everything and Powder knew she couldn't do it alone.

She swallowed, she started pacing back and forth as her mind turned over the problem again and again and the more she thought and considered the more she realised she couldn't do this alone.

Or she needed someone to bounce ideas off, someone to talk to, someone who could tell her she was crazy, losing her mind, seeing things, hearing things, letting herself fall into older times that she wished she could forget and— and?

And Powder had kept this from Ekko for long enough. She hadn't told him what had been on her mind, hadn't let him in at all and she knew that wasn't fair, knew that wasn't right.

But she had been scared, afraid, too terrified of how it would sound. And yet Powder knew Ekko would understand. He always did. It was time, Powder knew that much. Time to talk, time to come clean, time to trust Ekko the way he deserved to be trusted.

Powder took one last look through the mirage, she stared at the wood carving on the ground. She looked at the paint splashed on the surfaces and the things, the trinkets, cushions, the signs of life and she realised she was trying to memorise what she saw and she thought she did so because she was scared that it would disappear and never return, or it never existed in the first place and it was her mind losing control of reality, beginning to slip, slip away, slip further into her past, slip back into something she hated and despised and feared.

And then Powder pulled the lever back, the hum of arcane power died and the mirage vanished without a trace.

It was strange, Powder thought. Part of her expected there to be some grand reaction to her shutting off the power. Part of her wondered if she'd just wake up in her bed, the things she just saw nothing but a dream. And yet none of that happened.

She stood where she had always stood. She held in her hand the lever that was now powered down and she stared at the spot the mirage had been. Powder stared at that spot for seconds, perhaps even minutes but the longer she looked the more the mirage's existence seemed like it had been her imagination.

But she knew that not to be the case. She promised herself she hadn't imagined it, she promised herself that what she had seen was real, that the things she had seen with not-Ekko had been real.

Powder took in a steadying breath, she held it in her lungs and she exhaled, she let it rattle out past her lips and she knew she needed to talk or she'd lose her mind.

Powder stared up at the portraits of Vi. Each one she looked at was grand, so awe-inspiring, so real, too intimate for her to understand. They were so lifelike and before she had just thought it was her longing that had made her think so. Before she had thought it was her desire and the guilt she felt ever present in the recesses of her mind that had convinced her that the portraits of Vi were a window into a world where Vi had lived, had grown, been given a chance to become the woman she never had.

And Powder had believed those thoughts to be true simply because she had desired them to be true.

But now, after not-Ekko, after the mirage, after the times she had spent arguing with herself, she couldn't help but to think the portraits more than a wish, more than a dream. Perhaps they were memories, moments in time to which Powder wasn't privy.

And so Powder stared. She stared and she remained quiet, still, calm as she waited for Ekko to speak, to voice anything into the quiet that had settled around them.

"She looks so badass," Ekko said quietly.

Powder felt a small chuckle slip past her lips, she turned to face him and she smiled and there was a longing in her heart, something she wanted to embrace more than she should as she stared at Ekko.

"That's what I said, too," she whispered.

Ekko nodded his head slowly, the motion perhaps subconscious as he seemed lost in the paintings in front of him.

"I—" he shook his head. "It's incredible."

Powder bit her lip and looked down at her feet. For some reason she felt an odd sense of pride for this version of Vi, this version of a woman she had never met, who had never had a chance to live.

But she wondered what not-Ekko had meant when he told her Vi was the toughest person in all of Zaun, she wondered what must have happened in Vi's life for her to still need to fight, to survive, to stand up for those that couldn't stand up for themselves.

For that had always been who Vi was. She'd stand up to the bullies, she'd fight for those she loved and Powder had always sought solace in the fact that Vi would have found herself not needing to fight, to protect with fist and blood those she cared for in the Zaun she never got to see.

And Powder felt sadness tug at the corners of her eyes, she felt pain begin to wriggle itself into her heart.

"You really don't remember painting this?" Powder asked, her voice was quiet, thicker than she wanted it to be, coloured by pain and sadness and she swallowed the lump in her throat.

Ekko stared at the paintings again, and she could see him trying to pull the memories back from the nothingness, she could see him fighting for any kind of explanation.

"I'm sorry," he said, he shook his head and looked at her. "I don't," she could hear the guilt in his voice, she could hear the anguish and she knew Ekko would have carved those memories into existence, gripped them back from the ether if he had even a glimmer of them.

Powder wasn't entirely sure which answer she hoped for the most. Part of her wanted Ekko to remember, maybe that could explain everything, maybe it was just a weird symptom of their exposure to such a raw amount of arcane power. But part of her wanted him to not remember, to not know what had happened if only because it meant there was a Vi out there, a Vi who had fought, had lived, had survived and had been given the opportunity to grow and become someone Powder had longed to meet and to see just once.

She didn't realise she had started crying until she felt a tear fall down her cheek, she blinked, she felt the heat behind her eyes and she turned from Ekko, she wiped her hand across her face and she tried not to let him see, she tried to shield him from whatever unfocused pains she felt and—

"Hey, Powder," he said, she felt warm hands clutch at her shoulders and pull her towards him and she didn't resist, she didn't pull away.

She couldn't.

Powder felt her heart beginning to seize, she felt her guilt beginning to taunt her, she felt the voices full of blame start to ever so slowly creep into her consciousness and… and?

She pushed them away pushed back her pain, pushed back her guilt and she embraced Ekko, hugged him tight, felt the beat of his heart and she choked the tears back as much as she could.

"I'm here, Powder," he said. "I'm not going anywhere."

She didn't think Ekko meant it in that way, but as his words filtered through her pain she felt an ironic sense of déjà vu settle upon her.

She didn't voice it, didn't say anything until her breathing settled, until her mind had focused. And eventually Powder managed to pull herself from him, she blinked but the tears and she didn't care that she probably looked so unfocused and maybe even a little crazed as she stared at Ekko.

To his credit Ekko remained quiet, didn't push for answers, didn't question her or seem to think any less and she smiled, she looked him in the eyes and she searched for her Ekko, she searched for the Ekko she had sought comfort in when she had fallen apart after Vi's death.

And Powder smiled, it was a small smile, something probably a little less happy given her pains, but it was a real smile.

"I need to tell you something, Ekko," she said eventually. "It's going to sound crazy."

And so her Ekko just nodded his head and he looked at her with the same emotion he always had and for the umpteenth time Powder knew she was safe.

It was somewhere between the cool and the warm. Vi lay on her back, the sheets wrapped around her, one of the many pillows that she always fought against ever piled up against her body. She was asleep. Or perhaps not quite asleep. Her mind was just a little restless, not enough to keep her awake, but enough that if she let it be she'd wake, she'd open her eyes and she'd stare up at the grand ceiling of their shared room.

Vi snuggled a little more deeply into the bed, she rolled onto her side and she pulled Caitlyn's sleeping body towards her. Vi felt herself smile into the warmth of Caitlyn's body, she felt herself settle into the familiar pressure, she felt herself ever so slowly beginning to settle.

She thought traveling to the Lanes, traveling to her old home, at least partway, and she thought seeing what Jinx had created and how she had found some kind of Peace with Isha had helped. Of course there had been pain, guilt, so many other emotions that had stabbed into her heart. But still, it had helped more than Vi had expected.

Vi didn't notice it at first but as she continued to hold onto Caitlyn's waist she realised Caitlyn's body was tense, she realised her body was flinching ever so slightly with each second or third breath. It took Vi a moment for her mind to catch up with what she was feeling, it took her a moment to turn back from the sleep and then she opened her eyes slowly.

Their room was dark. The moon still hung dutifully in the sky and Vi had to blink, had to squint in the dark as the gentle dance of candlelight shone a lonely shadow upon the headboard of their bed.

Then Vi felt it.

Caitlyn's body was tense, she shivered, sweat seemed to cling to whatever part of her skin Vi could see and though Caitlyn was turned from her she could glimpse a frown etched itself across her face.

"Caitlyn," Vi whispered quietly, her hand careful as she pressed it against Caitlyn's shoulder.

The only response was a muffled whimper, a flinch, something cruel, something unkind, something full of fear.

"Cait," Vi squeezed gently, her voice a little more firm in the dark. "Cait."

There was a deeper frown, a deeper sound of pain that speared into the dark. Caitlyn started to jerk slightly, she started to flinch a little more forcefully against her.

"Cait," Vi squeezed Caitlyn's shoulder, she pulled her towards her and Caitlyn's body rolled onto her back and—

And Caitlyn gasped, she shouted, she yelled, Caitlyn's fist snapped out fast, it hit Vi square across the cheek as she bolted up. The sheets pooled around her waist, her eye searched, scanned, darted back and forth in the dark as her breathing came out ragged, broken, desperate.

Vi reeled back from the blow, her hand came up to block whatever came next but before she could do anything Caitlyn spun around, her hands balled into fists and hate and fury and disgust and panic, fear and loathing had consumed her.

Caitlyn lashed out again, a fist snapped forward but Vi blocked it, she pinned Caitlyn's arm to her side and she took the hit from the other fist before—

"Get off me," Caitlyn snarled, "Get the hell off me Madd—"

But Caitlyn stopped. She blinked, she stared and her eye was unfocused, full of pain and fear and Vi hated it.

She hated everything. Hated not having been there, hated not being able to protect, not being able to fight for Caitlyn when she had needed her the most and…?

"Vi?" Caitlyn's voice was quiet, hoarse, ragged.

"It's me, Cait," she said quietly. "It's me."

Caitlyn blinked, her eye began to focus, it began to settle and Vi saw the pain starting to ebb, she saw the panic starting to be pushed back and she saw the realisation, she saw the understanding and the recognition.

"I—" Caitlyn's voice didn't quite make the sounds she had been trying to make before a choked sob broke free.

"It's ok, Cait," Vi said quickly, she leant forward and wrapped her arms around Caitlyn, she held her, steadied her, hurt with her. "I'm here, Cait," no matter how much Vi's cheek was hurting it didn't compare to the pain in her heart, "You're safe. I'm not going anywhere."

Vi could hear Caitlyn's breathing fighting for control, she could hear Caitlyn fighting for control and Vi hated it, hated that Caitlyn struggled at times, hated that she didn't have the ability to rid her of the memories but she'd be there, she'd always be there.

Eventually she felt Caitlyn's hands push her away slightly, her palms still a little shaky as they pressed against her chest. Vi didn't protest, she let Caitlyn push them apart, she let Caitlyn get the space she needed and Vi stared into her own lap. From the corner of her eyes she could see Caitlyn wipe her hand across her eye, she saw her adjusting her small eye-patch and she she didn't want to intrude, not if Caitlyn felt weak, not if Caitlyn wanted space.

"I—" Caitlyn's voice was still hoarse, still just a little shaky. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Vi looked up at Caitlyn then and she ignored the fact she could see streaks of tears that had clawed their way down her cheek, she ignored the redness of her eye, she simply reached out and squeezed Caitlyn's hand in her own.

"It's ok," Vi said—

But Caitlyn gasped as her eye landed on her cheek.

"Vi," she whispered and there was more pain, more guilt, more anguish colouring her tone. "I—"

But Vi simply shook her head, stopped Caitlyn from spiralling, stopped her from reaching out and touching the bruising of her cheek and she stared at Caitlyn as sincerely as she could.

"It's ok," Vi whispered.

Vi didn't let her gaze waver from Caitlyn's face, she didn't let her gaze waver in strength or intensity. She saw pain in Caitlyn's eye, she saw her lip begin to quiver before Caitlyn bit it as if the physical was more welcomed than emotional pain that clearly had taken hold.

"I've been punched in the face before, cupcake," Vi said quickly.

Caitlyn just choked out a quiet sob that was mixed with a laugh.

"Why don't I get us some tea?" Vi said, she already started to stand and she knew Caitlyn would urge her not to if she didn't begin making a move. "I'll be right back."

Vi squeezed Caitlyn's hand briefly before she started walking out of their bedroom. Her bare feet padded against the floor, the carpet underfoot welcomed in the cool of the still early morning.

Caitlyn hadn't talked to her much about what had happened during her fight with Ambessa, she hadn't delved quite so deeply into the pains and Vi wouldn't push her to, wouldn't dare force Caitlyn to share more than she was comfortable with but Vi could read between the lines, she could figure out most of it and it made her grind her teeth, it made her hear ache and her soul rage. But she couldn't change the past, that much was certain.

But Vi could make sure Caitlyn was safe, she could make sure she was secure, protected and loved as strongly as she could ever imagine and if that meant waking up in the middle of the night, if that meant making sure Caitlyn's nightmares didn't linger anymore than she wanted, if that meant being punched, bit, slapped, scratched and clawed at at every turn she'd take the pains, she'd embrace them, wear them as a scar, a sign of her devotion in some cruel, sick, twisted way.

There wasn't anything else Vi could do.

It only took another few minutes before Vi was almost back at their bedroom, cups of tea held in each hand. Her fingers were burning a little but she pushed that pain aside as she continued her quiet return. She'd already tried thinking of what to say to Caitlyn, she'd already started planning conversations to take her mind off the memories and—

And vi paused. She paused at their bedroom door and she held her breath. Vi could hear the feint sounds of crying, she could hear the heavy breathing and she could hear the pain in Caitlyn's voice as clearly as she could remember her face, her laugh, her smile, every single part of her.

Vi's own heart began to bleed, it began to tear itself into pieces and part of her wanted to push forward, shield Caitlyn from the pain but she knew that would only make things worse in that moment and so she started walking back quietly, her feet careful and sure as she moved further back down the hallway.

She moved back far enough that she'd have to call out to Caitlyn, she moved back far enough that she couldn't hear Caitlyn's crying and then she called out.

"Cait," Vi said, her voice echoed in the quiet. "Can you open the door? The tea's hot."

She started walking, she tried to keep her face as calm as possible as she approached and then the door opened.

Vi stood face to face with Caitlyn. There was no sign of the tears, no sign of the pain, no sign of the crying that she had just heard. Vi ignored it as she stepped inside carefully, she moved to the side of the bed and she sat, Caitlyn close by her side as she sat, too.

"Here," Vi said, she held out the teacup upon the saucer and Caitlyn accepted it with a small thank you.

Vi watched carefully as Caitlyn held the tea cup before she took a small sip. She waited until she was sure Caitlyn was as ok as could be expected before she drank from her own and she embraced the hot liquid, she embraced the burn down her throat and she embraced the feeling of it flooding through her veins.

Vi's own racing heart slowed and steadied eventually and she hoped that Caitlyn would say something if she needed to, she hoped Caitlyn would know she'd be there forever.

"Are you ok?" Vi asked, she looked up at Caitlyn and stared at her. There were things in her gaze she couldn't voice, things she couldn't put to words and perhaps if Caitlyn was anyone else she wouldn't see it, wouldn't understand what was being asked, what was being offered. But Caitlyn stared at her in turn, met her gaze with her own and though Vi could see the pain, though she could see the anguish, she could see the understanding, too.

And perhaps that was enough. At least for now.

"As long as you're here," Caitlyn said quietly, her voice full of emotion.

"Always."

Vi pressed herself closer to Caitlyn, she let their bodies share the gentle warmth from the lone candle and she made sure Caitlyn could feel the rhythm of her breath as they sat in quiet, the pain of old memories perhaps a little darker as it danced around them both.

And so, as Caitlyn leant her head against her shoulder, Vi wrapped her free arm around her, she held her close and she let Caitlyn's tears fall and her quiet sobs fill the room without anything but love and a promise made to always be there no matter what.