Chapter Text
On the first day, they run.
Caitlyn cannot tell when and how things happen, why she’s being urged on through unknown streets in a body that is shattered through with pain and despair.
She dimly recalls hours before: stirring from unconsciousness, her skull searing with pain; the sound of metal scraping and a low, magnetic hum whirring into something loud and dangerous; Vi calling out, indistinct, before her voice drifts closer—
Vi. The name fades on her tongue as arms loop around her.
‘I’ve got you.’ Vi says, and Cait hopes it’s true.
She feels herself hauled up into trembling arms, and tries to focus on anything but the ringing in her ears. Everything tilts threateningly on an unknown axis, so she breathes in, concentrates on Vi’s body next to hers, leaning into her side more heavily as they move.
It’s so hard, suddenly, to focus. Like there’s a persistent yelling in the back of her mind, trying to tug her up by the collar and scream about…something (“but what?” she asks, and only static answers). At the same time, a soft voice coaxes her to sleep; to just lie under a thick fog devoid of thought, and be still.
It’s like looking at the world through water, suspended and separate, and it seems so much easier to just turn onto your side and fall back into a deep—
‘Stay with me,’ The voice cuts through the thickness, and she digs her fingers into Vi’s shoulder, feeling Vi’s voice crack beneath her nails, ‘We can— no. Oh no—no no no no no.’
The yelling in her mind becomes more urgent, and adrenaline starts to surge through her. She sways her head upwards, peering through bleary eyes as an arc of light and smoke — bright and blinding and effortlessly angry — splits the sky in two above them.
Topside and bottom, she distantly thinks, oil and water. You and me. Powder and Jinx.
She’s not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse, to have her mind finally click into a sharp-eyed clarity as she watches the distant tower — the Council room, she knows but prays she’s made the mistake anyway — light up in the wake of the oncoming storm.
Mum.
As the scream rolls up through her body, a hand presses urgently against the back of her head. Her face is directed into the hollow of Vi’s throat as the tears start to flow, and she doesn’t know where the desperate wailing is coming from: supposes it might have something to do with the way she’s beginning to splinter into pieces beneath Vi’s palm.
Vi keeps her mouth to the shell of her ear, mumbling soothing, unknowable words despite the way they both shiver against one another, devastated.
Cait doesn’t know how much time passes there, at what point they both collapse into each other and onto the floor, arms wrapped around one another as if they are the only things of weight in this new, chaotic world.
Eventually, the metal underneath them bites cold reminders into their legs, and Vi moves her hands to Cait’s arms, squeezing lightly.
‘We can’t be here. Someone will come looking for—’ she trails off, and Cait clings more tightly to her, ‘we have to go.’
And so, they run.
---
On the second day, they rest.
She’s exhausted when dawn arrives, the phosphorescent lamps of the undercity acquiescing to the few tendrils of sunlight that creep in from above. She tries to keep herself upright, pulling away from the steadiness of Vi’s shoulders that flex as she works at a lock, swearing under her breath.
Cait inhales, trying to ground herself. She knows that her nervous system is working in overdrive right now to protect her: her body is moving only because of the pure adrenaline coursing through it, and her mind has shuttered away the scenes from before, obscuring them with a dense, impenetrable fog. It’s proving difficult for her to stay conscious and standing, and everything’s moving in weird ways. Cait’s eyes train on the sign above the door as a sort of anchor point, but the words are blurry, spiralling things.
Banchos. Beenos. Benzos?
She rocks unexpectedly, placing her hand along Vi’s spine to steady herself, and Vi tilts her head towards her, worried.
‘Alright, Caitlyn?’ She asks, and Cait has the wherewithal to nod, ‘I’m almost done with this, and then we can—'
The lock clicks loudly, and the door swings open.
‘Come on, this is an old friend’s place. He won’t mind if we stay here for a bit and lay low.’ Vi says, her arm finding Cait’s waist again as she guides her in.
It feels like it takes forever, moving from the entrance of the dim, dusty shop, down a handful of stairs, and finally alighting on a bed. Vi is with her every step of the way, murmuring encouragement as Cait stops, breathes, tries again, until she’s sat on the hard mattress and trying not to let her vision spiral out into nothingness.
‘Caitlyn,’ Vi says, squatting and placing her hands on Cait’s knees. She squeezes, and Cait’s mind reaches out of the mist to grab hold of the sensation, ‘Cait. You need to stay awake. I think you might be concussed.’
‘I’m alright,’ Cait murmurs, swaying slightly as she runs a finger over the fresh cuts of Vi’s face, ‘You’re hurt, though. Let me—'
‘It’s okay, cupcake. I’m okay.’ Vi wraps her own fingers around Cait’s wandering hand and pulls it away. She rests their hands against her collarbone and looks up to Cait, blinking away the mist that pools at the corners of her eyes, ‘I’m more worried about you right now.’
Cait just wants to sleep, but the feeling of her hand against Vi’s neck sends her floating into an image from before: tucked onto her bed, two people pulled together from worlds away, curling towards something new…
She looks down at her fingers now, blushed with the smear of Vi’s blood, and it all feels like a lifetime ago.
Her eyelids are drooping, chin slowly coming down to rest onto her chest, and she feels Vi stand up. She feels her hands drift around her as she helps her to swing her legs onto the mattress, guides her backwards onto one side of the bed, and supports her head as it finds its way onto the pillow.
She isn’t allowed to drift away into sleep. Vi tucks in next to her, pulling at her shoulder until she rolls onto her side to face her.
‘Stay with me. You need to stay awake.’ Vi whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind Cait’s ear. Cait mumbles incoherently at the feeling, realising that she can’t keep her eyes open as something irresistible pulls her down into unconsciousness.
I’m sorry, Vi…
‘No. No.’ Vi’s words become sharp, her fingers wrapping around her upper arm and shaking her. ‘Cait. You can’t fall asleep right now.’
‘But…I’m so…tired…’
‘I know. I know you are, cupcake,’ Vi soothes. Cait feels herself tilt suddenly and tenses at the feeling of falling, but it’s just Vi, moving closer as the mattress shifts under her weight. ‘But you have to stay awake, because I have things I need to tell you.’
These words — small and shaking and scared — combined with the way Vi’s arm creeps underneath her body and pulls her into a close embrace is what keeps Cait awake. She turns her head so that her ear is pressed to Vi’s chest and she can hear the steady beat of her heart.
‘What…what do you need to tell me?’
In another world, asked of the same person, that question would terrify Caitlyn Kiramman. Right now, as she reaches up to touch Vi’s waist just to feel the warmth of her shirt, it’s the only thing she cares about.
‘I need to tell you about who I was, before you met me.’ Vi takes a deep breath, her arm bending to bring her hand to Cait’s back, rubbing soothing circles there.
‘Okay.’ Cait whispers, and Vi begins to tell her everything.
Even as her consciousness fades in and out, every word feels important for Cait to remember. Every statement feels like a creed, every small chuckle and quiet sob and earnest sigh feel like anchors in the storm. She has to stay awake — for this, and for her — and so she holds on for dear life.
She learns about Vander, the stalwart pillar of Vi’s youth; about Mylo and Claggor, kids that had to grow up too quickly but never got to see what it meant to be an adult; about Powder, the happy, endlessly clever kid, and loving sister. She learns about the events that led Vi to that dark, unfortunate place where they met, and about the mistakes made by a frightened teenager that turned the loss of almost everything into the grief of losing it all.
Slowly, with each piece of information broken off Vi’s soul and offered to her like a gift, Cait feels like she’s being pulled back up to the surface.
Vi talks until her throat is hoarse and her own eyes flicker with fatigue. At some unknown point in time — minutes, heartbeats, aeons later — she runs her fingers through Cait’s hair, and Cait leans into the touch, murmuring inaudibly, eyes closed but awake.
‘How does your head feel?’ Vi asks, and Cait’s eyes open. She sees Vi with more clarity than she has in hours — maybe even ever — and, while there is still a voice lulling her to sleep, it isn’t tinged with the same threatening aura as it was before.
‘Good. Well, not good—' Cait admits, ‘—but better.’
‘I’m glad.’ Vi’s smile is small and tired, but relieved. Her hand cards again through the hair along Cait’s temple, eyes carefully studying her face, ‘I think it’s probably safe for you to sleep now.’
Cait can only nod, and her body begins to relax into a worn-out stupor. Wordlessly, Vi shifts closer, bringing her other arm around Cait’s waist. Her hands run protectively along Cait’s back as she turns her head into the pillow, exhaling slowly.
‘Vi?’ Cait’s not sure it comes out as a word, but Vi immediately hums in response, pulling her more tightly against her even as her eyes close. Cait sighs, tucking her head into the space between Vi’s neck and shoulders, mumbling against her skin.
‘Thank you.’
Vi doesn’t respond, her chest already rising and falling in long, slow breaths. Cait listens to the steady thrum beneath her for a moment longer, before she falls into a deep, empty sleep.
---
On the third day, the nightmares come.
She remembers only brief images of what came to her in warped dreams — of ivory towers cracking, smoke billowing red and thick out of the fractures. She remembers watching, paralysed, as the marble crumpled, pausing for an infinitesimal moment (as if asking “are you watching?”) before collapsing silently into dust.
But was the sound that finally yanked her out of sleep, so terrifying and piercing and real. A voice, laughing. Laughing as if decimating Caitlyn’s entire life before her eyes was the funniest thing to have ever happened.
Cait wakes up, thrashing and screaming.
She claws at the sheets around her, gasping as the material winds itself around her arms and chest. She kicks her legs out, and everything constricts more. Panic rising in her throat, she closes her eyes, hoping that the darkness behind her eyelids is less oppressive than the one enveloping around her.
The pressure around her wrists increases. She opens her mouth to scream again, and all of the air rushes out of her lungs. The pressure builds throughout her, along her arms and hips and shoulders, and she feels something ghost along her cheek.
‘CAIT. Cait! Wake up!’
It’s Vi, breathing raggedly into her ear as she leans her body across Caitlyn’s, hands around her wrists to steady her. Cait freezes, the panic starting to seep out of her body as she opens her eyes and finds grey ones staring back.
‘It’s okay. You’re safe.’ Vi’s face is so close, etched with so much worry that it makes Cait want to reach out and smooth the lines away. ‘It was just a dream.’
Cait’s dimly aware that Vi has released one of her wrists and is now smoothing down her hair in a regular, calming motion; but she’s even more aware of the way the pang runs through her chest at the unspoken realisation between them.
That it was just a dream, but it really did happen.
She crumples against Vi, sobbing, and Vi meets her with a tight embrace.
‘Oh, Caitlyn,’ Cait feels Vi press her lips to her temple, ‘I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.’
Eventually, Cait’s tears dry against her cheeks, and Vi’s apologies fade into soft breaths against her face. It’s still dark outside, and sleep comes to claim them once more.