Chapter Text
Caitlyn made her way to the mess hall three minutes early. After the morning workout her stomach was rumbling and despite the slop they’d usually get served, Caitlyn would eat a piece of cardboard. Besides, she knew they’d have dessert today, thanks to her long time friendship with one of the kitchen workers.
While she waited in line with her tray, the rest of the trainees started pouring in through the double doors. Caitlyn didn’t pay much attention, as the butter frosted cupcakes behind the glass was all she could focus on.
Voices rose from the hallway and drifted into the hall, moments before a girl about Caitlyn’s age was led inside by the upper arm. She was sporting a bruised eye and her messy, pink hair had specks of blood that was definitely not hers.
Caitlyn had seen her and another girl (presumably her sister) be practically dragged into the precinct, kicking and screaming about a week before. The blue haired girl had cried, begging the men accompanying them to let them go.
Since then, the oldest girl had been nothing but trouble; getting into fights with other trainees, talking back to officers, and even throwing a punch or two at them. That last incident had landed her in the hole for the night and the entirety of that same morning.
Now, she was roughly pushed to sit at a table, and told to watch while the rest of the trainees ate.
“Next?”
Caitlyn jumped, approaching the woman serving the food. When she got to the dessert section, Caitlyn spared another glance to the pink haired girl, sitting alone and glowering at the table. Biting her lip, Caitlyn leaned in and shyly asked, “Can I get two, please?”
The lunch lady raised a brow. “One per person, sweetheart.”
Caitlyn pointed over her shoulder as discreetly as she could towards the girl. “It’s for her. She probably didn’t get food in the hole.”
The woman rolled her eyes and sighed, pausing to look at the girl, then to Caitlyn, then to the line. She picked two cupcakes and wrapped one in a napkin. “You’re lucky I like you.”
Caitlyn grinned, before practically skipping her way down the rest of the line to pick up utensils.
She had the impression that the new girl wasn’t much for socializing, so instead of sitting with her, Caitlyn slid the cupcake under the girl’s nose as she walked by, and found a seat towards the end of the mess hall.
When she dared to peek over her shoulder, she caught the girl shyly picking at the cupcake, and smiled.
Vi’s sure she is going to die.
The bleeding hasn’t stopped, new, warm blood pouring between her fingers while she presses her hand to her ribs, desperate to keep the blood where it should be. But her head is hazy and she can see her vision darkening at the edges, her body growing cold.
It’s why she doesn’t see the thin wire at her feet nor the trap perfectly hidden under mud and rotten leaves.
Vi gasps as the ground sinks under her feet and she falls clumsily at least a couple dozen hands into a pit. When she lands, her ankle twists in an awkward and painful way, and she instantly knows she’s broken something else. She tries not to cry out as to not bring attention to any wandering creatures, biting her tongue and grunting into the dirt.
As she recovers her breath and waits for the pain on her ankle to subside, Vi feels herself drift off. Her survival instincts finally flickering away. She’s bleeding out and she knows she’s going to pass out and die in a hole.
Where you were meant to.
But then, the sound of a metal fence in the distance makes her ears perk up. She opens her eyes and listens to the steps of booted feet, slow and cautious, towards the trap. The soft click of a weapon’s hammer being pulled down. Whoever it is, it’s probably the person who put this trap here in the first place.
When the steps pause, Vi twists her neck and looks up, but the stranger is still out of view. The position of the sun doesn’t even give away their shadow.
“I’m not sick.” Vi croaks, as loud as she can, through a three day dried throat.
She hears the person shift their weight and peek over the edge of the pit. It’s hard for Vi to focus, but through the blur on her vision she can tell the woman staring down at her has a distrusting scowl on her face. Her hair floats in the gentle wind, shimmering in a familiar shade of blue, and Vi is slightly relieved that her captor is a woman. Sue her.
Despite her vision going dark, Vi can still hear the woman’s breath hitch in her throat. “Vi?”
Vi’s eyes flutter and she squints, trying to focus on the woman’s face. The pair of sapphire blue eyes are unmistakable in the light. “Kiramman?”
She hears her scoff, and Vi can’t contain an ironic noise of her own. “Firelights treating you well I see.” Kiramman says.
Vi makes a noise of annoyance that burbles out like a whine. She’s struggling to keep her consciousness afloat. “Never joined. I’m ‘bout to pass out, Cupcake. Give me a hand?”
Caitlyn nods towards the bleeding wound on her side. “What’s that?”
Vi rolls to her back with a grunt, attempting and failing to sit up. “I got mugged.” She waits a beat, but Kiramman doesn’t move a muscle nor says anything. Vi could practically see the gears turning, thinking about what to do with Vi next. Then Vi lifts her shirt, showing her the stab wound. “See? Not a bite. Please help me out.”
Caitlyn quickly steps away. Vi waits with a bated breath and manages to raise her upper body up to a sitting position, feeling the nausea push bile up her throat when the world starts to spin. Then, a wooden ladder slides down the side of the pit, and with her rifle swung over her shoulder, Caitlyn descends.
She crouches next to Vi and extends hand. “Can you stand?”
Vi’s vision drifts. She swallows, trying to focus her vision on Caitlyn’s face to stay awake. “Your little death trap broke my ankle.”
Caitlyn hums and scooches closer, draping Vi’s arm over her shoulders. “That’s the point.”
With some effort, Caitlyn pulls Vi to her feet and helps her up the ladder. She’s stronger than she looks, staying a couple of steps below Vi and carrying some of her weight as she painfully and slowly makes her way up. Once on the surface, Vi slumps onto the ground with a pained grunt, pressing her hand to her wound.
Staying crouched next to Vi, Caitlyn asks, “What’s your business here?”
Vi snorts weakly. Caitlyn’s posh accent and formal language is one of the reasons she couldn’t stand her. “I’m going into the city.”
Caitlyn frowns. “The QZ?”
Vi’s breathing is now labored, and she doesn’t have the brain power nor the desire to elaborate. She shakes her head and musters the only word she has energy for. “Sump.”
Caitlyn’s eyes widen. “That place is plagued. You’ll die.”
Vi presses her lips on a thin line, but doesn't reply as her mind starts to drift off. Caitlyn looks up in the distance. The sun is setting quickly, helping the chill in Vi’s bones grow by the second. Her eyes fall closed and she starts to feel very, very tired.
“Well, if you want to get there, the fastest way is…”
Caitlyn’s instructions fade out as Vi loses consciousness at her feet.
It’s just her luck.
In the four years Caitlyn had bunkered herself in her family’s country state, five people had fallen in her traps. Well, five healthy people. One died with the fall, who Caitlyn buried somewhere at the edge of the thicket. Three were quickly sent on their way. One stayed for a couple of weeks, before disappearing into the night. All of them were going in the opposite direction of Piltover.
And then there was number six.
Vi. The young girl that had been tossed into the Academy along with a younger sister and begrudgingly followed Enforcer training. Neither of them wanted to be there, if the constant fights with other trainees and multiple attempts at escaping were any proof.
Vi’s sister made it out during one of such attempts. But Vi didn’t.
Caitlyn scratches the faint scar on her neck absently and sighs. The last time they saw each other, things weren’t exactly friendly.
She couldn’t in good conscience leave Vi out to die, so Caitlyn had quickly grabbed one of her wheelbarrows and rolled the half dead woman into the estate, grumbling under her breath the entire walk home. The reason Caitlyn survived this long isn’t just the traps, or the hextech fence, or her hunting abilities. It’s because she keeps to herself and doesn’t trust anybody.
This goodhearted act could cost her her life and she would only have herself to blame. But when Vi had passed out at her feet, Caitlyn saw that the stab wound at her side was still bleeding, and she felt a pang of guilt.
“She can recover here and then leave”, Caitlyn mutters to herself. “A few days, max.”
Dutifully, Caitlyn had placed Vi in one of the six other bedrooms, cleaned and cared for her wound. Her ankle was only sprained, not broken, but that meant Vi wouldn’t be able to go anywhere for several weeks without putting herself in danger.
Sighing, Caitlyn wraps Vi’s foot up tightly, leaving it propped on some throw pillows before she inspects the rest of Vi’s body. She’s littered with bruises and scrapes, and she has lost a dangerous amount of blood. She’s concerningly cold to the touch, so much that Caitlyn goes down to the winery where she keeps a second cooler and pulls out a bag of her own blood. Lucky for Vi to bleed out at a universal donor's doorstep. She wouldn’t be the first one to take it.
When she goes to hook up the needle, Vi’s arms are wrapped up in bandages, a habit she’d had when she was a teenager.
Caitlyn worries for a moment that Vi had lied about being bit, but no blood is visibly sipping through them. She removes them to inspect the freckled skin under them and lets out a relieved sigh when she finds nothing but tattoos and a handful of scars.
The latter ones are mostly hidden under the ink and look funny; none of them look like cuts or bullet wounds like the ones on the rest of her body, but these are wide and almost perfectly square, done with too much precision to be from an injury.
“Huh.”
While she lets the transfusion do its work, Caitlyn searches through Vi’s stuff. Her leather satchel is almost empty though, save a few scraps of dried meat, a small notebook, and three bullets for a gun she doesn’t have. Also, strangely enough, an old, dirty plush bunny that had been patched up to pieces. Under the left ear, someone had stitched Violet .
Caitlyn can’t contain a smile at that. After all these years, the insults, the yelling, the punching and the rebellion Caitlyn had seen Vi showcase, her actual name turned out to be surprisingly delicate .
She looks back at Vi’s sleeping face, eyes darting to the tattoo under her eye, taking in the freckles over her cheeks, darkened with the sunlight.
Vi has grown quite nicely into her face; her jaw is now sharp and uneven, her brows strong, her lips full. The sun damage had given her some wrinkles around her mouth and the corners of her eyes, and whoever mugged her had also left a parting gift on her jaw and the bridge of her nose, now covered with medical tape. Weathered, but beautiful.
Shaking herself out of her strange reverie, Caitlyn puts everything back in Vi’s bag and sits on a chair in the corner of the room, pulling out a book that she’d read a hundred times already, and waits with her rifle resting to her side.
Vi stirs some hours later, well into the night. Caitlyn isn’t tired, but she wishes she could go to sleep and not worry about having supplies stolen at best, or killed in the middle of the night at worst.
Her breathing is labored, but some color has returned to her face. Vi groans, and when she opens her eyes, she blinks. She stares at the dark green canopy for a whole minute before she scans the room and finds Caitlyn studying her.
“Feel better?”
“Shit!” Vi hisses, startled. She shoots up to sit, crying out when the sudden move pulls at her injury.
Caitlyn clicks her tongue in disapproval and stands to approach the bed. “Be careful, please. I don’t want to have to redo your stitches.” She reaches for Vi’s shirt, but Vi flinches away. With wide eyes, Caitlyn deadpans. “Are you shy? Because I had to remove your clothes to patch you up.”
Vi’s cheeks darken then, proof that she has more regular levels of blood in her veins. She pulls her shirt (Caitlyn’s shirt, since Vi’s was ruined) up and studies the wound, gingerly prodding around it with her fingers. “Uh. Thank you.”
Caitlyn nods curtly. “Your ankle is just sprained. And you’re welcome.” Then she crosses her arms and straightens her spine, ready to give her the conditions she’d been turning over in her head the last few hours. “You can stay until you feel okay to walk. Then you’re out of here. Understood?”
Vi scoffs. “Don’t worry Cupcake, I’ll be out of your hair before dawn.”
Caitlyn frowns. “You lost two pints of blood, Vi, if not more. It will take you at least fourty-“
Vi interrupts her. “You don’t want me here, and I don’t want to be here, so as soon as I can stand without passing out, I’m leaving.” She snaps, wincing when she readjusts herself on the pillows. “Last thing I need is you calling your Enforcer buddies to take me back to QZ. Or y’know, blow my brains out.”
Caitlyn tries to control the surge of anger. “I wouldn’t do that, because I’m as much of an Enforcer as you are.”
Vi’s face opens up slightly in surprise. “You’re not?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“I quit.”
“Okay, but why?”
“None of your fucking business.” Caitlyn snaps as tempered as she can be, but her nails are now digging crescent marks on her palms.
Vi’s smirk is mocking. “Oh, wow! Not only she quit the Enforcers and moved out of QZ, she swears now!”
Caitlyn seethes. She is two more insults away from tossing Vi out into the woods to get eaten by the wolves. “Do you ever say thank you?”
“For what? For rescuing me from your own fucking trap? Or perhaps because you kept me from leaving QZ? Should I thank you for that too?” Vi sneers. Her voice wavers and Caitlyn can see her muscles clenching as she presses her hand to her side, biting her words through the pain.
Caitlyn closes the remaining distance from the bed with a few stomping steps, making sure her height looms over Vi. “I saved your arse then Vi. And when you deserted. Hadn’t I been there they would’ve executed you.”
Vi sits up, masking another wince under her scowl. “Fuck you.”
Caitlyn leans down, making sure Vi could hear her when she growls, “Fuck you, Vi.”
Vi scrambles then, pushing Caitlyn back to slide off the bed and stand. But the argument and the painkillers Caitlyn had given her just a few hours before must have made Vi forget about her sprain, and as soon as she puts weight on her feet she cries out and falters, falling to her knees onto the floor.
The fall and Vi’s attempt to slow it has her pulling the muscles on her side and hurting her stab wound. She curses loudly, pressing a hand to her side, and slams her fist on the wooden floor.
Caitlyn sighs pitifully, and bends down to offer a hand. Vi weakly smacks it away. Caitlyn grunts in annoyance and walks around Vi to kneel in front of her. “Do you want to make your way through the Undercity with twenty percent blood loss and a sprained ankle?”
Vi meets her gaze. Her eyes are those of an angered animal that had been pushed into a corner. Defiant, but scared. She doesn’t reply.
Caitlyn nods. “There’s a bathroom behind that door with running water. I’ll bring you clean clothes. Then I’ll make us something to eat.”
The brawler’s body sags in defeat, her head hanging. After a moment she sniffs, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “You’re too sweet for your own good, Cupcake.”
Caitlyn stands, and as she walks out of the room she throws over her shoulder, “Try to not get the stitches wet.” and slams the door closed.
Running water was an understatement. Caitlyn has hot running water. Vi is torn between sitting there to enjoy what is possibly her first and last hot shower of her life and not wanting to waste it.
But since she isn’t staying long and Caitlyn hates her guts, and the shower has a stool where Vi can sit on, she thought, why the fuck not?
There’s a knock on the door sometime later, followed by Caitlyn’s muffled voice. “I brought you some clothes. I think they should fit. I’ve also left a pair of crutches by the door.”
Feeling the water run down her face and enjoying the warmth enveloping her like a cocoon, Vi takes a moment to reply. “Thanks.”
She thought Caitlyn had walked away, but her voice comes through again, “Are you okay?”
Vi can’t contain a laugh. “Fine.” She reaches up to close the faucet, already missing the heat, and stands with a groan. “I was indulging a little.” Stepping outside, she wraps herself in a towel that feels too soft for the apocalypse.
Caitlyn hums. “You can indulge longer. I rigged the water heater with hextech, it barely consumes anything-“
Vi limps towards the door and opens it as Caitlyn starts going on her own little science lecture. It’s a little endearing and a bit nostalgic to hear her speak like that, practically word vomiting information no one had asked about but that she is always happy to share.
A ship has a rigid metal hull, that’s not a blimp.
Finding each other now face to face, Vi watches Caitlyn’s jaw tense and her back straighten. For a split second, her blue eyes dart down Vi’s damp and towel covered body, a movement impossible to miss at this distance, and Vi smirks.
“Maybe I’ll take another shower after dinner, then.” Vi replies, reaching for the clothes Caitlyn was holding. “Thanks.”
Caitlyn blinks and clears her throat. “You’re welcome. Food is ready.” When she turns around, Vi can spot a hint of a blush on her cheeks.
On her way to the kitchen, Vi would’ve gotten lost in the expanse of this ridiculous hunting estate if it wasn’t for the mouthwatering smell drifting down the hallway. Something hearty and seared and-
The plop of a bottle has her head turning towards a fairly modest dining room. Caitlyn walks out from the kitchen and without a word she places two crystal glasses on the table, before serving two fingers of wine on each.
Vi raises an eyebrow, a gesture not lost on Caitlyn. “What?” She asks, a hint of defensiveness in her tone.
Vi shakes her head and sits at one end of the table. “I wasn’t expecting a bottle of wine and-” finally, the plate of food catches her eye. “Seared… rabbit? With roasted vegetables after being told I can go fuck myself .”
Caitlyn rolls her eyes, pushing the cork back in the bottle and sitting down to Vi’s side. “I’m not going to cook for myself and give you a can of baked beans.”
Vi shrugs. “I haven’t eaten anything but a bite of jerky in three days. I’d eat the cork of that bottle if that’s all you’d offered. But that’s not my point.”
Caitlyn cuts into her meal and daintily raises her fork to her mouth. “What is it, then?”
Vi stares at her plate. The rich smell of the rabbit and veggies filling her nostrils is making her salivate and lose her train of thought. Her point was, she wouldn’t have done the same. But instead of saying that and making herself look like a heartless prick, she grabs her utensils and digs in.
The moan that escapes her isn’t a noise she’s proud of, or even admit she could make. “Oh my fucking god.” She says around her food, spearing more onto her fork and stuffing it in her mouth before she’d even finished chewing the first bite.
Caitlyn tries to hide a shy smile behind her glass of wine. “Rude.” She mutters, but her tone sounds more amused than annoyed.
Vi doesn’t pay her much mind. She swallows her food and reaches for the glass of wine. “Are we celebrating?”
Caitlyn shrugs. “There’s an entire cellar full of bottles. Better than drink them by myself.”
Swirling the liquid inside the glass after a sip, Vi mutters, more to herself than anyone else, “I would’ve probably drank them all in the first year or two.”
“I was on a good pace to do that my first winter here.” Caitlyn replies. “Not much to do, so I just… read and drank. Helped with sleep too.”
A faint memory of Vander opening a bottle of liquor with a soft smile wormed its way through Vi’s mind. She pushes it away, “What made you stop?”
With a sigh, Caitlyn places her glass on the table. “Got too drunk, slept in. An infected managed to break through the fence, break a window and crawl into my living room without me noticing.”
Vi smirks. “Got too comfortable in your little castle?”
Caitlyn hums thoughtfully. “Comfortable is not the word I would use.”
They eat the rest of their late dinner at a relatively comfortable silence. When Caitlyn stands to clear the table, she waves Vi off to stay seated, and says, “Just go get rest. You’re going to need it if you want to make it to Zaun alive.”
Vi hadn’t forgotten about her little predicament. A sprain isn’t as big of a deal as her stab wound, but it would definitely slow her down and put herself in greater danger. On the other hand, waiting long enough for her ankle to heal might mean it’d be too late for her sister.
“ We need you here, Vi.”
That’s all her tube said. Vi had received it ten days ago in Frejlord. She’s only a couple of days by foot from Zaun, maybe one more to find wherever Powder’s camp was. Perhaps it’s already too late, but Vi doesn’t want to delay any more than she needs to.
Either way, Vi is in no condition to travel in her current state. So she tucks the crutches under her arms and limps back into the guest room.
I’ll sleep on it , she thinks before she plops on the plush, warm bed and passes out before she can even get under the sheets.