Archive of Our Own ^beta

Wisteria petals fall slowly toward the ground, fluttering purple in the wind. Caitlyn holds out her hand, letting a few of them float gently into her open palm, before letting them fly away once more. They swirl in the air as she sits down on the bench.

She can almost feel her mother's arm wrapping around her shoulders. A tremble flits through her shoulders, and she shakes in the cold even under her uniform and gloves. It's not rare for Piltover to get cool like this, especially during this time of year, but it really is colder than usual.

It hadn't been cold that day, when they'd fought the Noxian forces and their terrifyingly inhuman army. Caitlyn only remembers the smoke and gas, the faceless pure-white beings reaching for her. The fight against the woman who she used to follow. The agonising, stinging pain in her eye that followed.

Her fingers reach for her eyepatch, brushing gently over the fabric. She's grown used to it now, the lack of depth perception and the confusing distance of things, even if she does bump into walls now and then when she's not paying attention. Something that Vi loves to tease her for. But she no longer spills her coffee when she's pouring it, she no longer writes slanted and messy on her documents. She's even learnt how to shoot with it, and her aim's growing closer every day to what it used to be.

Still, even two years of progress couldn't bring everything back to normal. She still misses her mother badly, even if she's grown to accept the loss and let go of her anger. She misses the days where she was naive, even stupid, but life was simpler. Following Jayce around, eager to learn anything about the Undercity from him.

Jayce. Two years since he's been gone. Caitlyn fiddles with her glove, sliding it half-off her hand before fitting it back on. The last time they'd talked, really talked, it had been right here. When Caitlyn was still swimming in grief, chin-deep in her own burning hatred. The seeds planted for the worst mistakes of her life. The worst she would ever be.

Then he disappeared. When he came back, he was different; cynical, dark, like he'd seen something no one was supposed to see. They'd barely had any time to talk then, too focused on the incoming threat, to talk. She wishes she had. Wishes she had found the time.

Because after that he'd disappeared again, but this time he didn't come back.

Sometimes it felt like Caitlyn was still waiting. Like any moment now he'd come walking out of the bushes and sit down next to Caitlyn, bumping their shoulders together affectionately just like when they were children. She'll show him all the progress they've made, show him that despite it all their city had lived through it and come out even stronger and better. She... misses him. Misses everything about him. The older brother she never had, the scientist who humoured her even when she surely must have looked like an annoying child to any other adult. 

It feels like there's a hole in her heart—an empty space in her childhood, a figure cut out of her memory. 

She rubs her hands together over her gloves. It's getting even colder now, the delicate tinkling of the chimes growing louder as the wind picks up. Maybe she should be getting back to the Kiramman estate now, especially considering how much paperwork she has to do. She's just standing up to leave when she hears it.

"Ha. Knew you'd be here, sprout."

Caitlyn freezes. The voice is familiar in the worst possible way—like the glare of the sun after a long time in the darkness. She doesn't want to turn around, doesn't dare to. Because what if there's no one there? What if she's going crazy and hearing voices, just like Jinx? 

A shaky breath forces itself out her mouth. She tries to swallow past the swell in her throat. 

"Come on, don't look so sad to see me."

Just get it over with. Caitlyn spins around, ready for there to be nothing but plants and empty air. But he's there, smiling at her. It doesn't feel as dramatic as it should be; he looks like he was always meant to be there, like he was never gone.

Before she's even conscious of it herself, Caitlyn is rushing forward, shoes thumping against the stone path. She launches herself at Jayce, arms wrapping around his neck, squeezing tight as if to make sure he's real. And he is. His body feels solid under her embrace. Warm. He catches her just as she does, arms around her waist to steady her.

She remembers, years ago—she used to launch herself at Jayce the same way every time she saw him. "Whoa," he'd said at one point, out of breath and laughing with her in his arms, "you're not five feet anymore, okay? Go easy on me." 

Well, he doesn't seem to care so much now. He spins her around before setting her down on the ground gently, hands over her shoulders and dusting her off. "Jayce," she says, because she can't say anything else. Jayce is back, he's back, and her heart feels like it's about to burst. Tears are welling up in her eyes and she frantically wipes them away before he can see.

He looks similar to how he did before his disappearance. Beard thick but trimmed, long dark hair framing his face. The bags under his eyes have lessened, though, and the shadows over his eyes have disappeared. It makes him look happier. Younger. 

"Been a while." He brushes her hair out of her face, fingers lingering over the eyepatch. It makes her feel like a little girl again. "I didn't know you, ah... I'm sorry. It must have been difficult."

"It's alright. I've grown used to it now," Caitlyn reassures him, before she realises that Jayce is here, after being assumed dead for two whole years. Even Ekko, the only possible eyewitness, had said it: they just disappeared. "Jayce, what—what happened to you? Where did you go? And, and what about..."

Trailing off, she finally steps back and realises there's another figure behind Jayce. Cloaked and hooded, hunched over, but when he looks up Caitlyn instantly recognises his face. The same face that led Jayce around like a puppy, or was always by his side in the lab, or in the background whenever she and Jayce spent time together. His partner. And the man responsible for the threat that had befallen Piltover during the battle.

"What is he doing here?" She spits out before she can help it. She takes another few fumbling steps back at the same time Jayce reaches forward, other arm stretching out as if to put a barrier between Caitlyn and Viktor. Which of them he's trying to protect, she's not sure. "He aided Ambessa's army!"

Words hang in the air unsaid. He's the reason so many people died. He's the reason Piltover was nearly razed to ashes. He’s the reason you…

Jayce shakes his head. "No, no. You don't understand, he... I..." His voice goes weak, as if he himself doesn't know how to explain it. Caitlyn knows the feeling. When you're lost for words—when it feels like nothing you can say would fix anything. Which is fitting, because she doesn't know what he could say that would fix this.

“Didn’t he… kill you?” Caitlyn forces out through gritted teeth, quiet so Viktor wouldn’t hear. It’s what everyone had believed. It’s what Caitlyn herself had believed, all this time, flipping mentally through every memory she had of Jayce’s partner. His partner who had betrayed him.

“No, no! You don’t understand, this is all just… it’s not what happened,” he says, voice growing weaker as he talks. “He didn’t do anything to me.”

Viktor raises his hand to touch Jayce's arm. The gesture is gentle and barely there, just a flutter of fingertips, but it still sets Caitlyn on edge. When he speaks, his voice is low, and she has so strain to hear it: "I told you I should not have come, Jayce."

Somehow this makes him shake his head even more indignantly. His hand goes to wrap around Viktor's, a far more firm and confident touch compared to his, thumb rubbing his skin in comfort. It's an intimate gesture, not unlike something Vi would do to Caitlyn. She can't help but feel like she's interrupting something, or that there's something here she isn't quite understanding.

For a moment she considers that Jayce has been brainwashed too, taken over like all the other lifeless puppets swarming around Piltover that day. But he doesn't look anything like them, and furthermore he doesn't act at all like them either. He's full of life in a way only Jayce could be; 

the way he smiles, the way he touches, the way he carries himself.  

What the hell is going on here, then?

"Look, what he did was wrong. But he's... sorry. And he's been working to fix his mistakes." Jayce gestures at Viktor, pushing him to say something.

A small sigh slips out of Viktor as he tugs his hood down even further nervously. It's almost funny. Whenever Caitlyn saw him back then, he never seemed like the type of man to be capable of nervousness, always so confident and well-spoken and mature. More mature than Jayce, anyway.

"You have my... deepest apologies, Miss Kiramman." He takes a step forward, and Caitlyn resists the urge to back away. She reminds herself not to let the simmering, burning anger inside control her. In a way she supposes she has no right to judge. "Not as if it makes my actions better, but I was... lost. Foolish. Too stupid and blind to realise how terrible and fruitless my actions were.”

In his voice there’s an unmistakable tone of sincerity, one Caitlyn’s heard in her own voice before. It makes her falter just for a second. “I don’t ask for your forgiveness,” Viktor continues. “Only that you… understand.”

She hesitates, wrapping her arms around herself. Even now, after that, just looking at his face makes her angry. Makes her remember all the lives lost, humanity almost wiped clean to nothingness. No, she certainly can’t forgive him.

But understanding? She does think she can do that, a little.

“I suppose I do,” is all she says. It’s all she can manage to say. Viktor nods, his eyes soft as he looks up at her. With his hair falling over his face and the downturned curve of his lips, it seems almost unbelievable that this man was once so dangerous. Mostly he just looks sad.

“Thank you,” Viktor says in return. He turns to Jayce, shifting his staff gingerly. “I’ll leave you both alone.” Then, as if to reassure Jayce, he adds: “I would like to take a look around the garden anyway.”

Though he doesn’t like it, Jayce seems to realise that it’s for the best when he looks between the two. “Don’t go far,” he says worriedly.

Viktor’s already walking away. “I can handle myself, Jayce,” he deadpans, his accent prominently sharp when he says Jayce’s name. There’s fondness in it, too. 

Caitlyn watches him walk away down the path, releasing the tension in her shoulders she didn’t even know was there. She rubs her arms, the remnants of fear and apprehension leaving her even chillier than before. Like frost is growing from inside of her.

In only a moment, though, Jayce’s warmth settles over her, his hand rubbing her back. “I’m sorry, you must be cold,” he says. Caitlyn doesn’t even have time to deny it before he’s taking off his coat and draping it over her shoulders. It’s heavy, but it does warm her up. “There you go.”

She knows this is how Jayce shows his love. Taking care of others however he can. So she lets it happen. 

They move to sit on the bench. Caitlyn facing the lake, Jayce facing the wisteria, just like the last time they talked. She cringes to think about it, the person she had been then, blind to her own actions.

Yes, she supposes she has no right to judge Viktor after all.

“What… you and him, you’re…” She stutters, unsure how to phrase the question. What are you two to each other? 

Thankfully, Jayce seems to take the hint. He rubs his wrist absentmindedly, the one where he used to wear his bracelet. It’s not there anymore, replaced with strange patterns—scars?—webbing over his skin. “He’s my partner,” he says quietly, like it’s a secret, or perhaps a confessional. “He’s my everything.”

He turns to Caitlyn, eyes wide as if trying to convince her. “I know that he did a lot of things wrong, but I promise it was just…”

“It’s alright, I understand. I do,” she says, placating him. He turns back, fingers picking at his wrist. “But I… maybe it’s best to keep him away from Piltover for now.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah,” Jayce agrees. He looks to the distance, where Piltover’s centre rises high. Not as grand or big as it used to be, but still visible above the skyline. “You rebuilt it.”

Pride beats in her chest when she realises what he’s talking about. Usually it’s him building things and telling her all about it, showing her invention after invention as she looks on in rapt awe. This time it’s her turn to show him what she’s done. “It took a lot of work,” she says. “But we did manage to.”

“Free of Hextech.”

“Of course. Despite what some councillors wanted,” Caitlyn replies, before it hits her what that must have meant to him. “Um, well…”

But Jayce just nods. A faint silhouette of the determination and anger he’d worn before the invasion. “Good,” he says shortly. “I’m glad. You’ve grown up. You should be… better than me. Wiser.”

“No, no. You’re the one who’s…” Caitlyn’s hands curl in her lap. It was Jayce who was the hero, the one who fought for what was right. Even if he did create Hextech, it wasn’t like he could’ve known. Him and Viktor and Councillor Medarda. As if any of them were to blame. “I’ve made too many mistakes to be wiser. ”

His hand covers hers on her lap. “Mistakes are a part of being human,” he says seriously. “What matters is that you’re making up for them. Are you?”

She bites her lip. “I’m trying,” she opts to say.

“That’s all we can do,” he says, squeezing her shoulder. He turns back and catches a few petals in his hand himself, letting them dance through his fingers. “We can’t make a better tomorrow if we’re too focused on yesterday.”

“You’re right,” Caitlyn murmurs. Don’t get dragged down by self-pity, don’t wallow in your own regret. It just makes you more useless than you already are, as Ekko puts it. She exhales and realises she never got an answer to her previous questions. “What happened to you? We all thought you were…”

Dead . She can’t bring herself to say it. Like maybe if she does, then it’ll come true, and he’ll turn to dust right as he sits next to her. It’s stupid, but her throat closes up nonetheless.

“What have you been doing all this time? Why didn’t you come back?” As soon as Caitlyn says it, she hates how much she sounds like an affronted, whiny child.

“I’m sorry,” Jayce says. “I’ve been… I guess you could say I’ve been exploring. The things I’ve seen, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Both good and bad.”

“So tell me,” she says, vividly remembering the days in Jayce’s apartment when she used tot stare at his diagrams and sketches and asked what every single one of them meant. And she never understood his answers, not on a technical level, but she understood the spark in his eyes and the passion in his heart. 

To her disappointment, Jayce shakes his head. “I can’t. Trust me when I say that.”

Caitlyn huffs. Clenches her hands into fists, nails digging into her gloves. She almost wishes she didn’t have them on, so the pain would ground her. “So you’ve just been, what, gallivanting across the world? For the past two years?”

As if just now registering how upset she really is, Jayce turns to her again, going to place his hand on her shoulder. She slaps it away. “Please, just—”

“We needed you.” I needed you. “And you weren’t there! Your mother, she grieved you for so long. Did you even think about her?”

“Of course I did,” he responds immediately, in that urgent way of his. When he’s desperate for someone to understand something to the point of anger. He runs a hand through his hair—it falls back down on his face within seconds. “How—how is she? My mother?”

“...Fine. I suppose. She’s been doing better recently, and helping out with the reconstruction efforts in her own way.”

“Good. Good. I’m glad.” He does seem genuinely relieved. When he looks at her, his eyes are wide and glossy, like a dog asking for forgiveness. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back. Did you miss me that much?”

Though his voice is teasing, and Caitlyn knows she’s falling into his trap, she replies with a begrudging, “of course”.

After all, he was the only friend he had for years. Perhaps it was embarrassing that her company of choice was a man eight years older than her, but Caitlyn never really did get a hang of the whole socialization thing. Even now she fumbles with it, at large gatherings and negotiations with Zaun.

With Jayce it was always natural, easy, like she could be herself. Maybe because they were kind of the same in some ways, how they always bit off more than they could chew and got more than they asked for. Loved, but never liked.

“Well, it’s alright now,” she says, mostly just feeling lighter at the prospect of having Jayce around again. “It’s good to have you back. I’m sure your skills will be useful in the city’s development. They’re still figuring out how to deal with Hextech, so you can help with that too.” 

She skirts around Viktor’s existence. She still hasn’t figured out whether she wants to put a legal punishment on him—it only seems right, but she has a feeling it would make Jayce upset. 

Jayce, who is shaking his head and rubbing his face with his hands. A habit that he does often, like he has a constant, never-ending migraine. “Caitlyn, I’m sorry. But I can’t come back. I’m not coming back.”

The breath disappears from her lungs. It feels like being stabbed all over again. “What?” She asks, bewildered, hoping that she’s just heard Jayce wrong or is misunderstanding something. But the look on his face doesn’t give her much hope. “Are you serious?”

“I’m really proud of you, you know?” He says, taking Caitlyn’s hand. “Seems like yesterday you were just a little girl curious about the outside world and following me around. Now look at you. Raising a city.”

“No, I…” She sniffs. Her eyes are stinging again and she hates it. 

“Things are better without me. Without both of us. You learnt to live, and so did my mother and everyone else.” He smiles at her as if it makes it all okay. “I’m done. It’s time I stopped being a burden on this city.”

“But you don’t have to be. You said you were sorry that you didn’t come back.”

It’s selfish, is what she thinks. It’s wrong. She almost considers saying it, but she knows that justice and morality isn’t what this is really about. Not when her heart is aching so and she feels twelve years old again.

“I said I was sorry. Not that I regret it.” Now he stands up as well, rounding around the bench to stand by her side. Caitlyn looks at the lake, the clear water reflecting the blue of the sky, and tries not to let the tears fall. Then she’ll really look like a child. “You don’t need me anymore. Nobody does.”

“How could you just say that?”

“Because I know it. I’ve seen it.” He clasps her hands in his. 

The battle is lost, and Caitlyn starts to cry. Quietly, tears falling down her cheeks. Jayce rubs them away with the hem of his sleeve. “You should have never come back,” she says lowly, looking down at their feet.

And she means it. The past two years she’s grown around the absence. Gotten used to the empty lab, the thick silence. She no longer wakes up thinking, I have to discuss this with Jayce. 

But now she has to do it all over again. She has to live with the fact that he’s alive, out there, somewhere, running around in the galaxy and leaving her behind. By choice.

She chokes back a sob.

“I know,” Jayce admits. “It’s selfish. But I wanted to see for myself how much you’ve grown.”

Placing a hand on her back, he turns her toward the Piltover skyline once more. “Look. Our city was nearly decimated by an invasion. And yet you didn’t let it get you down. You’ve even improved Zaun—I walked through there, earlier. You’re on your way to giving them the life that they deserve.”

It still doesn’t feel like enough, sometimes, after everything she’s done. So it’s hard to see it as impressive. “We’re still discussing its independence,” Caitlyn gets out, voice wobbly.

“Exactly. In two years? Do you know how impressive that is?” He laughs. “Caitlyn, I couldn’t manage it in seven.”

Despite herself, she laughs too. Wetly. “I don’t think… well… it really isn’t the same.”

“Point is,” he says, “you know what you’re doing. More than I ever did.”

Caitlyn hunches over, the weight of Jayce’s coat like a million tonnes. She doesn’t know how to express it, how to say that it’s not about what she needs or what he can do. What are the right words to say that she just wants her childhood friend back? 

Please stop leaving the memories empty. Please stop making me live past your loss.

“You really have to go.” It’s neither a question nor a statement; more like she’s trying to convince herself. If she says it out loud, will the pain go away? Apparently not.

“Yes,” Jayce replies staunchly. He’s so confident now, so firm. Like he’s sure this is what he’s meant to do. She supposes they’ve both grown up. “And you’re going to do all sorts of great things, just like you already have.”

He steps away, craning his neck to look for Viktor, but it seems he doesn’t really need to. As if telepathically connected, Viktor is already walking back over to them, walking stick thumping rhythmically against the ground. Jayce brightens at the sight of him, happiness pouring out every crease of his smile.

When Viktor reaches them, Jayce grabs his hand, fingers twining together. “Probably time,” he says, and Viktor hums in agreement. Time to leave, Caitlyn assumes.

Jayce turns back to Caitlyn. Considers. “Keep the coat,” he finally decides, drawing it tighter around her. “I can get another one that’s the same, anyway.”

For a second she wants to protest, but it hits her that it might be the last thing she’ll ever have of Jayce after he leaves. All she can do is nod—six feet tall and once a killer but feeling like a tiny child who’s helpless to do anything but watch as her only childhood friend walks away. She knows she’s capable all on her own. Why does that mean she can’t have him around too?

“You’ll understand one day,” Jayce murmurs, even though Caitlyn is positive she never will. “And I want you to know that I love you. I always will. You’ll always be my little sister.”

Brothers don’t leave their sisters, she thinks bitterly, but maybe they do. She thinks about Jinx, about Vi and her grief-stricken face. Maybe they do and it makes no sense but it happens anyway.

“And you’ll always be my foolish older brother.” She can’t help it. One last jab.

He grins, starts to turn away. But Caitlyn can’t help this, either—she reaches for the back of Jayce’s shirt and tugs. “Promise me you’ll come back,” she manages.

“Oh, Caitlyn.” Jayce’s eyes are sad, but his tone is warm, reassuring. That’s Jayce, she supposes. Always keeping a strong face for others. He glances at Viktor, by his side, then back to Caitlyn. “Everything comes back to us eventually. You just have to wait for it.”

Maybe it’s another of those things that she’ll understand someday . She’s always hated when adults told her that, ever since she was a child, but coming from Jayce it sounds genuine. 

“Okay.” She tries to keep her voice steady. She wants to prove to him how right he is—that she’s strong. After all, she isn’t a kid anymore. Neither of them are. “Goodbye, Jayce.”

Jayce breathes a laugh, reaching out to ruffle her hair. When she was young she used to complain about him doing that; now she wishes it would last forever.

He turns toward Viktor, mutters something she can’t quite hear. Viktor nods and they grasp each other’s hands firmly, Viktor’s rhumb rubbing over Jayce’s wrist. 

Then he looks up at Caitlyn and smiles. One last time. “So long, sprout.”

They clasp their hands together, and suddenly everything is blinding. Caitlyn covers her face with her arms, peeking through the cracks to see if she can get a glimpse of Jayce. Yet there’s nothing but beautiful, blinding light—swirling colours and luminescent white spiderwebbing across her vision.

And then, just as soon as it started, it’s over. When Caitlyn looks in front of her, there’s nothing but the scenery of the garden and a wide expanse of lake. Where Jayce and Viktor were standing, there’s nothing but empty air.

Caitlyn doesn’t know how long she stands there, coat fluttering in the wind. She holds on tight to it, afraid that it’ll disappear too. 

Everything comes back to us eventually. She’s holding him to that. 

She looks up. The sky unfurls above her, clear blue and wide and endless.

“Come on, Jayce! Don’t be such a coward!” Caitlyn pouts. Her knees are dirty and so are her hands, something her mother will surely scold her for, but she doesn’t care right now. 

“I told you, Caitlyn. Your mother will get mad at me if you get hurt.” An exaggerated shiver trembles through his shoulders. “And your mother’s scary, I’ll tell you that. I’ve seen her at the shooting grounds.”

She huffs. “So I won’t get hurt,” she says, like it’s as simple as that. “Please, Jayce?”

“I’m sixteen. I’m about to be an adult, so I can’t play around like this anymore,” Jayce says, talking like he’s regurgitating words that have been fed to him. He’s hesitant, which means that Caitlyn’s getting through to him.

“Please,” she repeats, dragging it out. 

Finally he gives in, standing up and brushing off his pants. “Alright. Just this once,” he says, which is what he says every time. He bends at the knee, giving Caitlyn space to hop onto his back. His arms secure themselves under her knees. “Jeez, you’re getting heavy.”

“Shut up!” She says, slapping the back of his neck. It forces a laugh out of him. “Giddy up, horsey.”

“I’ll drop you,” Jayce warns.

“No you won’t.”

He won’t.

Jayce shifts, making sure his grip on her is firm. Caitlyn loops her arms around Jayce’s neck, enjoying how big she feels from the extra height, how much more of the world she can see. “Ready?” He asks. 

Caitlyn’s barely nodding her confirmation and Jayce is already off, bounding down the steps. He runs across the stone path and out the gate, smiling all the while. Everything feels like a blur, like for once Caitlyn is the one that’s running faster than everyone else. Like for once, the world isn’t the one leaving her behind.

The wind blows through her hair. Laughter spills out of her mouth. Despite his earlier reluctance, Jayce is laughing too. With every step he takes, Caitlyn jostles. He runs down uneven paths and sometimes hits the ground a little too hard. 

But she’s not scared. She holds on tight to Jayce and doesn't let go.