Chapter Text
VI’s POV.
Things had changed. Not small changes, where you’d have to really think about them in order to notice. Things had changed drastically. There was a war. Things and people got seriously fucked up. The cities didn’t even look the same anymore. They looked… alive. While all of the ass kicking, back stabbing and explosions were happening, I was ‘safely’ stowed away in a cell. My life passing me by as I rotted away in a damp cell.
Stillwater Hold was not for the faint of heart. I had spent the last 10 years there, fighting to stay alive and those fights, luckily, earned me the respect of the inmates. No one would fuck with me. The guards? Well, not so much. There were endless beatings, where I refused to even groan or whimper. I had spent so much time in solitary that I thought that maybe I might actually go insane. But, whenever that wave crept closer, ready to claim my sanity, the warden would sweep in and back to gen. pop I went. It was torture.
Well after my time behind bars started to bleed into one continuous routine of shit food, fights, sleepless nights and abuse, I was suddenly released. I thought maybe it was all just a vivid dream and that the last frayed cord of my sanity had snapped. I was pulled out my cell, escorted from dark and grimy halls to ones that were considerably much cleaner and sun lit, a plastic bag of clothes that definitely wouldn’t fit me anymore was shoved into my hands and then I was shoved onto a boat.
The sun burned my eyes and my skin was prickling under it direct rays. I sat on a sea sprayed bench and eyed the guards with suspicion, maybe they would wait until we were in the middle on nowhere and then chuck me over board. It wouldn't be the first time a prisoner had been whisked off by guards, and never seen again.
When the boat docked at Piltover harbor, I wasn’t sure what to do. I stood frozen in place. Things were strange. Growing up, I remember Piltover being pristine and shiny. Something untouchable and powerful. There was rubble scattered in piles. Pilties and Zaunites working together. I’m not joking when I say my brain short circuited. My jaw fell slack, my eyes went comically wide and I dropped my shitty plastic bag on the deck.
“516, unless you want this to be a return trip, I suggest you get off.” A burly man chuckled behind me and gently gestured towards the docks.
“Sanders, she’s no longer just a number.” A stern voice rasped from the docks.
Grayson.
I hadn’t seen her since I was maybe 16 or 17 years old. She looked older. Her hair much grayer, her wrinkles slightly more pronounced. Still, her eyes and the cigar in her hand stayed the same. “Sorry ma’am.” The guard answered sheepishly and my eyes bounced between them in a state of disbelief.
“Come on, I don’t have all day Vi.” Grayson pushed off the pillar she was leaning against and dusted off her uniform. Still feeling rather disorientated, I jumped over the chain and landed with a dull thud. If it had indeed been a dream, and if I had woken up after my feet made contact with free ground, I think I would have killed myself. There are no words to explain how I felt in that moment. Apprehensive, afraid, confused, liberated, concealed giddy-ness bubbling under my skin. It was over. I was a free girl. Well, woman now.
“Welcome home Vi.” Grayson patted me on the shoulder and I almost cowered. Her eyes were apologetic, but the small smile still pulled at her lips. “I- uhm, is this real?” I whispered and looked around. More boats were flooding in from Stillwater with other new releases. Enforcers were scattered along the docks, but they weren’t wearing masks. They were even smiling and helping people.
What the fuck alternative universe kinda fuckery is this?
Grayson’s deep raspy chuckle pulled in back to reality, “It is,” she nodded and gestured for me to follow her, “Things have changed, as I’m sure you’ve heard. Silco is gone, along with any chem-barons who sought his chair, the council is now made of Piltovians and Zaunites. Things are certainly not better, but we’re working to get it there.” She explained as we walked towards a truck parked on the road. News did travel fast, even in the prison. Guards would gossip loudly and from there it was simply like wild fire. I knew Silco was assassinated, I knew Marcus, the pig who arrested me, was dead. I knew Vander was gone. I knew there was a war. These things I had made peace with. Well, sort of.
It was the things I didn’t know that were burning a hole in my chest. “Where’s Powder, is she okay? What about Ekko? What the actual fuck happened?” I asked quickly when I climbed into the truck. The leather seat set my ass and thighs on fire and I shifted uncomfortably in my clothes. The heat sucked, but after being sun starved for so long I would accept it.
Grayson started the truck with a chuckle and opened the windows. “Look, it’s hard to explain. But, Powder is okay.” She shrugged and pulled off into the street, avoiding monster sized potholes and piles of debris that had been stacked in organized piles. My brain had been so deprived of stimuli for the last ten years that I couldn’t think about all my questions and take in the city as we drove through it. So, I sat, chewing the corner of my thumb and prayed to whatever deity was out there, that this wasn’t some fucked up dream.
Grayson pulled up next to community center of down town Piltover. “Follow me kid.” I jumped out and immediately wanted to curl in on myself. All eyes snapped at me. I was however still wearing that trademark orange jump suit and black slip on shoes. “Don’t mind them. Come.”
I was ushered through large, fancier than necessary, doors and into a massive hall. Tables and chairs set up in rows. People stationed behind computers and clothes and books and sign-up sheets. It was a lot. There was a lot going on. Other prisoners were in ques and speaking with shocked expressions written all over their faces. Stranger yet, the people who were ‘helping’ them seem more than happy. Comfortable even.
“People who were wrongly convicted and imprisoned have been released,” Grayson supplied as I absorbed the scene. “We can never take it back, but the council can definitely help its people get back on their feet.” I think I blinked at her with a blank glaze over my eyes. “Come.” She placed her hand on my shoulder and guided me towards the first counter.
“Sherrif. Welcome. How can I assist you today?” a preppy woman smiled way too happily and I grimaced at her.
“This,” Grayson pointed at me, “is Violet Lane. She needs to be processed.”
“Whoa, what ya mean processed?” I started to walk backwards. Processed in my language meant a strip search, followed by less than professional frisking and a humiliating photo op.
“We’re going to get you some clothes, see what kind of school you would like to attend or jobs you would like. We’ll see if there are any apartments still available, and then we’ll be on our way.” The overly chirpy woman explained and Grayson nodded along. I pinched the bridge of my nose and exhaled sharply, “Okay so, let me get this straight,” I squared my shoulders and braced myself, “I get wrongfully imprisoned because of a corrupt system, I spend ten fucking years in hell,” I sneered and held up my hands to emphasize my point, “There’s a god damn war and then the council figures out that if they want to fix shit, they need to get their heads out of their own asses, I’m released and the solution is to throw hand outs at me and hope that won’t stay pissed?”
Grayson nodded and the chirpy woman stared at me wide eyed.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me. Like seriously, my life was taken from me, Grayson. And the fucking council wants to throw money at their problems and hope that it fixes it?”
“Yes.” “No.” both women replied at the same time and I huffed.
“Stop being my pain in my old ass and get a move on.” Grayson’s voice was stern but could see the amusement dancing behind her blue eyes.
The fucking nerve of this woman.
I spent the better part of the day standing in ques, not knowing what to expect. I had been given basic clothing, some reading materials to take with me because I could not decide on whether I should apply for a job or study something. I was given a bank account with money already in it, which pissed me off. I was put down on the waiting list for an apartment in down town Piltover, and then I was back in Grayson’s hot truck with absolutely no clue where this fucked up, but insanely amazing day would take me next.
Turns out the answer wasn’t as exciting as I’d hoped. Grayson took me back to her apartment because I had nowhere else to go. She had a spare room with a simple single bed, a side table, and a desk. I spent the first three weeks sleeping on the floor instead of the bed because it felt too wrong. Too warm and too soft. I hurled my lungs out every time I ate something with actual nutritional value and treated my room like a cell. I’d take food to my room and eat alone. I’d still take cold showers where I refused to close my eyes, even when the water ran over my face. I’d stare at the books I was given to read and I did a million push-ups, crunches and squats until I collapsed from exhaustion. Then the cycle would repeat itself.
One Month later.
I heard the front door click closed and the familiar sound of Grayson’s boots being kicked off and placed neatly on the shoe rack. I stared up at the stark white ceiling, my head resting on my hands as I breathed slowly. Still trying to unravel the mystery of what to do with my life. “Vi, could you come here please.” Grayson called from the living room and I sighed. She has this irritating habit of trying to help. It wasn’t helpful, I felt like I was backed up into a corner every time she brought things up.
I still hadn’t seen or heard from Powder and Grayson would tell me to be patient, which made me want to punch her in her old lady face.
“Are you never going to leave the apartment?” she asked as I sat down on the sofa. I stared at the wall and shrugged. Truthfully, I didn’t want to go anywhere. If Pow knew where I was, I wanted to be here in case she showed up. I was never going to admit that to Grayson though. “Look, I want to help you Vi. I’m trying to help you,” She opened the fridge and grabbed two beers. The bottles clinked together as she held them in one hand. She passed me one as she flopped down on the couch and huffed in relief, “I promised your old man that I’d look out for you, so please. Let me.” Her statement caused my eyes to snap up.
“I don’t know how to…” I sighed heavily and opened the beer. The only sound filling the room was the distinctive hiss that escaped the bottle as the top flew off. I took a big sip and wiped my lips with the back of my hand, “I don’t know what to do.” I sheepishly admitted and instead of lecture, I was met with a gentle glance and a nod. “Your apartment is going to be ready soon, and as much as I’ve enjoyed your stellar company, I doubt you want to stay with me forever,” she chuckled and her voice was laced with sarcasm.
“You have a good heart, Vi. And the spirit of a warrior. Stop hiding away from life. You’ve treated yourself as a prisoner in my home and it’s not healthy.” My eyes welled up, Vander used to say soppy shit like that to me. “I’m sorry.” I looked her in the eye and she shook her head in denial. “Look, I know you’d rather go straight back to Stillwater than come work for me as an Enforcer, and that’s fine. But, you are a protector by nature. I think you should enroll at the fire academy. It’s one year of training and tests. I can pull some strings to get you in, because enrollments closed last week. In the meantime, I think you can work part-time in the bar down the street. It’s equidistant from your new apartment and mine. So, I can keep an eye on you and if you ever want to crash here, or of things get lonely I’ll be right here.”
“Thanks old timer.” I smirked at her and she flipped me off. I laughed at her and sipped my drink once more.
“No, really. You didn’t have to take me in. So, thank you. For everything.” I chewed my bottom lip and looked at the mat under my feet. “I like your idea. I’ll look into it tomorrow.” I stood up and downed the rest of the beer.
“Vi?” Grayson said as she stood. And I hummed in response. “I’m proud of you. Vander would be too.” She whispered and I launched myself and the huge woman. My face landed in her chest and my arms wrapped around her body as the dam wall finally broke and I sobbed in her arms. She held me up and patted my shoulder gently. I can’t remember how long we stood there for, I wasn’t embarrassed about my inevitable break down. It needed to happen. At least I had someone in my corner.
I heard the front door creak as it slowly swung open and when I turned around there she was. A heavily pregnant, blue- haired woman with eyes like our mothers’.
“POW?!”
I pulled out of Grayson’s embrace and once again launched myself at a woman, a girl who had grown up and lived her life in my absence. She was still stringy, but taller than I remember, her braids fell past her hips and her very round belly felt warm against my body. It was a very emotional reunion. I ugly cried, I snotted on her dress and told her it was great practice for motherhood and she punched my arm. I finally had her in my sights. My reason for fighting, the reason I took all those beatings and the only reason I had not run away. She had come back to me. My only family. I felt a piece of my soul returning to it’s place. I think I genuinely smiled for the first time in years, even if it was through tears and uncontrollable sobs wracking through my body.