Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

No matter how much Caitlyn believed that she and Vi were making strides in their relationship, reality consistently found a way to remind her of who Vi truly was—predictable in her unwavering selflessness.

"You’re doing it again,” came a rough, familiar voice from behind her. Caitlyn jumped slightly in surprise, her breath catching for a moment before warmth flooded her chest as strong arms wrapped around her waist.

It was always the same—Vi’s presence grounding her, even when her words carried a mix of teasing and concern.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," Caitlyn replied, her tone light but unconvincing. All she received in response was a low, familiar grumble from Vi. Without a word, Vi removed her hands from Caitlyn’s waist and gently spun her around to face her.

Her silvery, powder-blue eye locked onto Caitlyn’s—a gaze so intense it seemed to pierce through every barrier Caitlyn had ever built around herself. And for once, Caitlyn held her gaze, something she never thought she’d have the strength to do.

For the longest time, Caitlyn had struggled to see herself as whole again. No matter how many times Vi reassured her that she was as beautiful as the day they met, that losing an eye didn’t lessen her, Caitlyn couldn’t shake the doubt. Vi would tease her, calling the eyepatch badass, always trying to make her laugh. And Caitlyn would—she had to. But she never forgot Vi’s reaction the day she found her in the hospital.

-

“Where’s she?” "Where's Caitlyn?" Vi demanded, her voice raw with panic and on the verge of hysteria.

When she found out that both Mel and Caitlyn had gone toe-to-toe with that shifty, self-serving war pig, she’d been a wreck. The thought of losing Caitlyn had unravelled her, but it wasn’t just that.

She couldn’t forget what she’d witnessed before—the image forever etched into her mind. Her baby sister, Jinx—no Powder, falling to her demise with a smile on her face, even as Vi screamed and cried, her voice hoarse and broken. She’d begged and pleaded, as though sheer desperation alone could undo the inevitable. It had felt like hours, maybe longer, before Ekko found her, pulling her back from the edge of despair. He’d held her as she sobbed uncontrollably, eventually telling her everything that had happened—things she couldn’t bear to hear but needed to know.

And now, with Caitlyn lying wounded and fragile

this world was a wasteland

Caitlyn was okay—just in critical condition. But that word, critical, had shattered what little composure Vi had left.

“She wishes to be alone and has forbidden any—” The poor staff didn’t get to finish before Vi interrupted, her voice a storm of anger and desperation.

“-Bullshit. I don’t really give a flying—”

“-Vi!”

The soft yet firm voice cut through the chaos, bringing Vi to a sudden halt. She spun around, her mouth half-open to argue, but the sight of the tall, regal woman froze her in place.

“Mel,” she said, her voice faltering, her fury momentarily dimmed.

“It’s good to see you in one piece,” Mel said, attempting to lighten the tension with a hint of dry humour.

But Vi wasn’t in the mood. Her jaw tightened. “I don’t really have time for small talk, Mel. With all due respect, where the fuck is Caitlyn?”

Mel’s face softened with a trace of pity, though her voice stayed calm. “She doesn’t want anyone to see her... in this state... especially you.”

“I don’t fucking care,” Vi shot back, her voice cracking slightly under the weight of her emotions "Please just let me see her"

Mel sighed, the kind of long, weary exhale of someone used to navigating chaos. “Follow me.”

-

I guess this is what I deserve, Caitlyn thought bitterly. She could try to blame Ambessa for everything—for the betrayal, the bloodshed—but deep down, she knew better. This was her fault. Every choice, every misstep, had led her here. And now, she was paying the price, guilt crashing over her like waves, along with the reality of Piltover and Zaun.

A sudden rush of pain surged through her body, the wound in her stomach a constant, throbbing reminder of her failure. It hurt just to breathe, let alone acknowledge the loss that weighed even heavier than the physical injury. She had lost something far more valuable: her eye.

How is Piltover’s finest sharpshooter? The question gnawed at her, mocking her pride and the identity she had spent her life building.

Was this the early retirement her mother had wished about all those months ago? Or was it Janna’s way of stopping her once and for all—a divine punishment for the control of power Caitlyn had?

She didn’t know the answer. All she knew was the ache in her body and the growing void inside her heart.

"Oh, Cait..."

No, no, no. She couldn’t be here. Caitlyn felt a surge of panic as the familiar voice reached her ears. She couldn't let her see her like this. Not now, not in this broken state. She couldn’t bear the thought of Vi looking at her with that same expression of pity and sorrow that everyone else had.

She'll leave. She’ll see me for what I really am—the same broken mess that ruined everything for everyone I ever cared about.

You were supposed to be her saving grace. Instead, all you do is hurt and disappoint her.

The thoughts flooded Caitlyn like a tidal wave, drowning her in a sea of self-loathing. How could she have let it come to this? How could she have failed the one person who meant everything to her?

“Hey, hey, easy, cupcake. I’m  here.” Vi's voice was gentle, yet firm, as she moved closer, sensing Caitlyn’s distress.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Caitlyn choked out, her voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want you to see me like this...”

Vi didn’t hesitate. She gently cupped Caitlyn’s face in her hands, just like she always did when Caitlyn needed comfort. Her thumb brushed softly across Caitlyn’s cheek, soothing the pain that wracked her. Caitlyn closed her eyes, wishing she could see Vi the way she used to—before all of this.

Before everything fell apart.

But she couldn’t. She would never look at Vi the same way again, not with only one eye.

The weight of it all became too much, and Caitlyn broke. She began to sob, the tears coming in heavy, uncontrollable waves. Vi pressed soft kisses to her forehead, her lips tender against Caitlyn's skin as she whispered words of comfort. She gently wiped Caitlyn’s tears away, her touch like a balm against the rawness of Caitlyn’s heart.

“I have nowhere else to go,” Vi said, her voice strong and steady, though laced with a vulnerability Caitlyn rarely heard. "I’m never leaving you again. You can punch me, shoot me, scream, kick, and..." Vi trailed off for a moment, her breath catching as her hand cupped Caitlyn’s cheek. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re all I have left.”

Vi took a deep breath, her gaze unwavering. “A little wound and a lost eye aren’t going to change anything. I’ll always be by your side, now more than ever. I love you, Caitlyn.”

The words, fierce and full of conviction, hung between them like a lifeline, an unspoken promise: she wasn’t leaving. Not now, not ever. And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Caitlyn allowed herself to believe it. She let herself lean into the warmth of Vi’s love, the only thing that had ever truly felt like home.

-

"Earth to Cait."

Caitlyn snapped out of the memory and suddenly pulled back into the present, where she was once again met with the familiar silvery, powder-blue eye, staring at her, searching for an answer. Her gaze flicked over to Vi, and it took a moment to realise they were sitting in the living room, tangled on the couch— more intertwined than she'd realised.

"Gonna tell me what’s on your mind, or do I have to play psychic?" Vi’s voice was soft, but there was a teasing edge to it, a little smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as she waited for Caitlyn to respond.

"Thinking about how much I love you."

It was a lie, Vi could tell, but she decided to play along, sensing that Caitlyn needed a little break. She’d humour her for a moment.

"Oh really? After all these years, you still can’t get enough of me? That’s kinda corny, babe." Vi teased, her voice warm as she tucked a stray strand of Caitlyn’s hair behind her ear and pressed a soft kiss on the tip of her nose.

This made Caitlyn giggle. Bingo.

"Says the woman who gives me a hundred different pet names." Caitlyn smiled, her gap-toothed grin barely exposed, but it was enough to melt Vi’s heart. It was adorable.

"You love it; don’t even try to deny it, Kitty Cait."

All Caitlyn could do was smile as she melted under Vi's touch, her heart softening in a way that only Vi could manage.

-

"Up again?" Vi sighed, mentally kicking herself for waking Caitlyn. She had hoped to get some sleep, but it seemed like that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

Vi sat on the edge of the bed, her body heavy with exhaustion, while Caitlyn, still in nothing but her eyepatch, rested her head on Vi’s shoulder.

"Couldn't sleep," Vi said helplessly, the words slipping out with a sigh.

"Guess I ought to up my game if you’re still awake after... all that." She couldn’t help but giggle, the playful side of Caitlyn bringing a warmth to her heart.

Vi turned her head, pressing a soft kiss to Caitlyn’s head, letting the moment linger. "No need, I’ll never get tired of you... of this. You really do live up to your name. So sweet."

Caitlyn’s cheeks flushed, the heat spreading across her face as she smiled, embarrassed yet touched.

"Come back to bed." Caitlyn muttered, still half-dazed with sleep.

"I am in bed," Vi said, her voice teasing but gentle.

"You know what I mean."

"Guess I ought to up my game if you—" Vi smirked, nudging her gently.

"Violet!" Caitlyn interrupted, as she swatted at her. "I appreciate your warmth very much, darling, please."

"Whatever the princess wants."

-

"I was there that day," Caitlyn said quietly as they sat at the table, breakfast freshly prepared by Vi.

Vi glanced up from her plate, giving Caitlyn a questioning look.

"When you went on the heist... all those years ago," Caitlyn clarified, her tone soft but loaded with meaning.

Vi froze, her fork hovering mid-air. Her body ran cold as the words sank in.

"I was helping Jayce carry boxes of materials to his apartment," Caitlyn continued, her gaze fixed on the steaming cup of tea in front of her.

Vi just stared at her, the weight of Caitlyn’s revelation crashing down on her like a wave.

"Before I knew it, the building blew up in blue smoke..." Caitlyn explained.

"My father was so upset. He forbade me from seeing Jayce—called him a misfit," Caitlyn chuckled at the memory, though it was tinged with melancholy. "That was one of the only times my mother stood by me when my father didn’t. She sponsored Jayce’s studies... sponsored Hextech... and reaped the benefits."

Vi’s grip tightened on her mug, her knuckles turning white as guilt clawed at her insides. She hadn’t realized how far the ripples of that day had spread, how close Caitlyn had been to the chaos she’d caused.

"Hey, what’s with the face? You shouldn’t feel guilty about it," Caitlyn said, her voice soft but firm. She was no longer looking at her tea but directly at Vi, her piercing gaze unyielding. "It’s not your fault," she added, her tone laced with reassurance.

But Vi couldn’t meet Caitlyn’s eyes. Vander’s words echoed in her mind, relentless and sharp:

You say run, they run. You say swim, they dive in. You say light a fire, they show up with oil. But whatever happens, it's on you.

Vi clenched her jaw, the weight of those words suffocating. "It’s my fault, Caitlyn," she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper, but it carried the full weight of her torment.

"Hey, none of that," Caitlyn said softly, her hand gently cupping Vi's cheek. "We can't change the past, no matter how much we beg, plead, and pray... I didn't bring it up to cause distress. It just has me thinking."

Caitlyn moved a little closer, her gaze softening as she spoke. "You truly are my soulmate, Violet. Our fates have been intertwined before we even knew it."

She smiled, her gap-toothed grin lighting up her face, and Vi couldn't help but be drawn to her. Without thinking, Vi leaned in, pulling Caitlyn into a deep, lingering kiss, as if to prove that nothing—no matter how hard the past had been—would tear them apart now.

-

They stood by the statue in silence, the air heavy with the weight of unspoken thoughts. The stillness was broken by Caitlyn’s soft sobs, a sound that surprised Vi.

"You think after seven years the pain gets less?" Caitlyn’s voice trembled as she tried to hold herself together, but the cracks in her façade were too deep. She dropped to her knees, her body wracked with the grief she could no longer contain"I wish I could do it all over".

Vi knelt beside her without a word, pulling Caitlyn into her arms, the rawness of the moment pulling them closer than ever.

-

They were at the firelight mural, the soft glow of the flames flickering in the evening air. Vi had just finished praying for those she had lost, the quietness of the moment hanging heavy between them. As she placed a bouquet of flowers down, the silence seemed to stretch, but it was broken by Vi's soft words.

"They would have loved you."

Caitlyn, standing beside her, turned her head, a small, uncertain smile tugging at her lips. "You think so?" She asked shyly, not entirely convinced. After everything she'd done—was she truly worthy of such kindness?

"Mylo might have been an ass," Vi said with a quiet chuckle, the memory of her brother still bittersweet. Caitlyn snorted at that, unable to help herself.

"But he'd come around... eventually," Vi added, her voice tinged with a hint of sorrow, as though the absence of those who had loved her was still a wound that hadn’t quite healed.

Caitlyn’s gaze softened as Vi spoke, her heart aching with the weight of the things left unsaid, the people they never got to say goodbye to.

"Oh, Janna," Vi murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, the loss of her friend still so raw. "I wish we had more time."

All Caitlyn could do was watch, the sadness in Vi's eyes settling deep within her own chest. She leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Vi’s cheek, her heart full of empathy.

"I’ll give you a moment," Caitlyn said quietly, stepping back to give Vi the space she needed to grieve. The weight of everything was heavy, but in this moment, Caitlyn knew she could stand by Vi, in silence, offering the comfort of just being there.

"I don't want to lie," Vi whispered, her voice shaky. "I wish you all were more than just a memory. I dream about you, but it feels like you’re haunting me... All I want is peace of mind." She paused, her voice softening. "I have something good going on with Cait. She’s everything to me. I don’t want to ruin it. I always choose  wrong;  have to let this go to keep her. I know I do"

Guilt consumed her, gnawing at the edges of her soul every second of every day. No matter how hard she tried, Vi always felt like she chose wrong— every single time .

Every day, Vi was haunted by the what-ifs.

The biggest one always being:

What if she had never gone on that stupid, fucking heist?

In her mind, that was the moment. The one choice that set off a chain reaction—the butterfly effect—that shattered everything. The world might have gone to hell for countless reasons, but Vi carried the weight of it like it was her fault alone.

Vi sighed deeply, her sorrowful gaze lingering on the flowers. "I would do it all over if I could... I swear," she said, her eyes filled with regret and resolve.

Chapter Text

Vi woke up. The air was heavier than usual. She tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable spot, but something was off. The bed beneath her felt harder than she remembered. It was a stark contrast to the usual—the best mattress, pillows, and silk sheets Piltover could offer.

Vi had always teased Caitlyn after they moved into their apartment:

“You can take the Kiramman princess out of the luxury mansion, but you can’t take the luxury out of Caitlyn Kiramman.”

But Vi didn’t mind. Sleeping beside Caitlyn made every night for the past seven years feel like the best sleep she’d ever had.

Speaking of Caitlyn, Vi realized she couldn’t feel her warmth in bed. Her side was empty.

Vi's eyes fluttered open, barely at first, and then snapped wide as she took in her surroundings. This wasn’t her bedroom—it hadn’t been for years.

The walls were decorated with colorful doodles and splashes of paint, the smell of axle grease, alcohol, and fumes... it was unmistakable.

Oh, Janna—

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, searing headache that made her clutch her temples. A voice, soft and ethereal, echoed in her mind:

"I’m giving you and your beloved a second chance.

Answering your prayer to change your future.

I hope the wind will not come between the love you two hold.

This kind of love only comes once in a lifetime.

Fight to make a future worth living for."

Vi’s breath hitched, her heart racing as the weight of those words sank in. A second chance? To do what? And why her—why them?

"Vi."

A soft, unmistakable, raspy voice broke the silence—a voice she could never forget, one that haunted her nightmares and echoed with the weight of guilt she could never shake. "Are you okay?"

The concern in the tone pulled at Vi’s heartstrings, tugging harder than she wanted to admit, leaving her momentarily speechless.

Before she could muster a response, a head of messy blue hair appeared, followed by wide, searching eyes that locked onto hers with an intensity that made her chest tighten. It was a look she hadn’t seen in years, one she thought she might never see again.

"Pow Pow," Vi whispered.

Vi shot upright, her instincts kicking in before her mind fully processed what was happening. She quickly reached out, pulling her little sister onto the top of the bunk bed with ease. The moment their bodies collided, she wrapped her arms around her tightly, holding her in an embrace she had longed for ever since that fateful night at the warehouse—the night she was ripped away from everything she loved.

She clung to her, her grip firm yet trembling, as if afraid Powder might disappear again if she let go. She would never let go of her again, never let her slip through her hands.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Powder asked, her voice soft and innocent, her wide eyes full of concern.

"Yeah," Vi forced out, she had been living a nightmare ever since she lost her sister... time and time again. Her throat was tight, refusing to let go of her little sister. And Powder, in turn, held onto her just as tightly, her small arms wrapped around Vi as if to anchor her in place.

"I love you so much, Powder," Vi whispered, her voice breaking under the weight of her emotions. "Nothing is ever going to change that."

She buried her face in Powder’s messy blue hair, breathing in the familiar scent that she thought she’d lost forever, letting her tears soak into the strands as she held on for dear life.

"I know, Vi," Powder said, her voice muffled against Vi’s shoulder. She pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at her sister with a shy smile. "I’m going to make you proud, I promise. I’m working on this new bomb—I’m calling it Whisker. It’s going to work this time—"

"Powder," Vi cut her off gently but firmly, placing a hand on her sister's shoulder. Her eyes softened as she looked at her, a mix of love and worry etched into her face. "You don’t have to prove anything to me. You already make me proud, every single day. Just… stay you, okay?"

Powder smiled—a small, hesitant curve of her lips, but it was there. "Can I sleep here tonight? I just… I don’t want you to wake up alone again."

Vi knew it wasn’t the whole truth. Still, she didn’t want to let her sister go, not now. She nodded, pulling the blanket around them both. "Sure, Pow."

Powder snuggled in closer, her excitement bubbling through despite the quiet moment. "Tomorrow’s a big day, so we have to rest up, Vi!" she screamed whispered.

Vi raised an eyebrow, her voice soft and curious. "What’s happening tomorrow?"

"The heist, Vi!" Powder squealed, her energy returning in full force. "It’s my first time going topside!"

Vi’s heart sank at the mention of it, but she forced a smile, ruffling Powder’s hair. "Yeah, big day. Let’s get some rest."

She held her sister tighter, silently vowing to keep her safe, no matter what.

Okay, so this is happening, Vi thought to herself as she stared at the ceiling, listening to Powder's soft, rhythmic breathing. Her little sister had dozed off in minutes, leaving Vi alone with her thoughts.

How was this even possible? This had to be some kind of sick dream, right? But it felt so real.

Vi never thought she'd miss Claggor’s deep snores or Mylo’s faint sleep whistles, but here she was, soaking it all in. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt a pang of happiness, mixed with the overwhelming ache of knowing how this had all ended.

Was this a second chance? A cruel trick? Janna’s way of testing me? Vi didn’t have the answers, but she knew she had to make a change.

Number 1 on that list was avoiding everyone going on that damn heist.

Protect the family.

-

"You said I was ready!" Powder complained, her voice tinged with frustration as she crossed her arms and threw herself on the couch next to Claggor.

Vi couldn’t help but sigh. She understood her sister's eagerness, but this wasn’t the time for reckless decisions. She needed to keep Powder safe and make sure she stayed Powder for as long as possible.

"Vi is right, you know," Mylo said with an air of smug satisfaction. "Maybe you should just stay this one out. You'd just jinx the job."

Vi’s blood ran cold at the mention of that word, jinx . A flash of old memories hit her, and something inside her snapped.

If it were anyone else—anyone other than her dead brother who was somehow alive right now—she would’ve knocked them out cold. But it was Mylo, so Vi took a deep breath, counting to three, and then she spoke, her voice firm and unyielding.

"Mylo, don’t call her that," she said, her words clipped. "She’s not a jinx. And none of you are going on this heist."

"What? You can’t just—"

“I can, and I will,” Vi interrupted, her tone final, cutting through the rising tension before it could escalate further.

“It’s not safe going topside,” she added firmly, her eyes sweeping over the group.

“Oh, but you can go, and we can’t?” Mylo shot back, crossing his arms with a bitter scowl. “We've been playing this job for days!Just admit it—you don’t want to take Powder. Now we gotta stay and babysit her.”

At his words, Powder shrank into herself on the couch, curling up with her arms wrapped around her legs and her face buried in her knees. The sight of her little sister folding in on herself like that struck Vi straight in the chest.

“It’s not that,” Vi said, exhaustion lacing her voice as she moved to Powder’s side. She crouched down in front of her, gently lifting Powder’s head so their eyes met. Vi tried her best to muster a reassuring smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I can’t guarantee our safety topside,” she explained softly, her gaze flicking between Powder and the others. “Anything and everything can go wrong up there. I don’t want enforcers raiding the Lanes because of a job gone bad.”

The room fell into an uneasy silence. Mylo’s frustration hung heavy in the air, his scowl deepening, while Claggor nodded subtly, his expression one of quiet acceptance. Powder, however, simply stared at Vi, her wide, innocent eyes filled with a mix of emotions—hurt, understanding, and trust.

“I promise to bring something back,” Vi added after a moment, her voice steady but filled with determination.

“You better,” Mylo muttered, his tone sharp, but there was a reluctant edge to it, a sign that even he wasn’t entirely unmoved by Vi’s words.

Vi glanced at Powder once more, her heart aching as she gave her little sister’s hand a gentle squeeze. She knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but if there was one thing she was certain of, it was her resolve to protect them all—no matter the cost.

"Stay here, don’t follow me. I’m going topside alone," she said, but it was more direct at Powder than anything else, her voice firm but tinged with something softer beneath the surface."oh and-"

"-Don’t tell Vander," the other three orphans chimed in unison.

Vi froze at the mention of Vander. She had to face him—again. She had kept her composure around her siblings, but the thought of seeing him again, of witnessing his death twice and watching him transform into a chemical beast, twisted something inside her.

She didn’t know how she’d react.

But then, she couldn’t help it. A small chuckle slipped past her lips. "Hey, you three knuckleheads actually have brain cells after all," she teased, trying to lighten the mood. It was the best way to avoid the weight of the situation for just a moment.

As Vi stepped into the bar, her eyes immediately found him—Vander. He was standing there, just as he always had been, the same steady presence she remembered. The man who had taught her how to throw a punch, the one who had always been there to clean up her bruises. He hadn't changed.

"You up early, kid?" Vander asked with a half-smile, but there was an unmistakable seriousness behind his words. "Should I be worried?"

Vi didn't know what came over her, but in that moment, everything hit her at once. The weight of it all—the memories, the guilt, the fear—crashed down on her, and she couldn't hold it back anymore. Tears welled up in her eyes, and before she knew it, she was rushing to him. Without a second thought, she enveloped him in a tight, desperate hug.

Vander didn’t hesitate. His arms wrapped around her instantly, pulling her close as if to shield her from everything. For a few moments, all Vi could do was sob into his chest, the sound of her cries muffled by the warmth of his embrace.

After a beat, Vander’s rough, honeyed voice broke the silence. “You okay, kid? Not that I’m complaining.”

“Never better,” Vi rasped, her voice thick with emotion, her eyes still brimming with tears. A bittersweet smile tugged at her lips, though the weight of everything still hung heavy in the air.

Vi was the one who pulled away, she had to pull herself together she had a whole lifetime to be sentimental over her family if she just played her cards right.

"I'm heading out, but I'll be back—don't go growing any more gray hairs while I'm gone," Vi teased with a playful smirk. Before Vander could protest, she cut him off with a heartfelt, "I love you, Vander," she said as she walked out of the last drop into the lanes

-

It's nice getting above it all, huh? Vi thought to herself as she gazed at the City of Progress sprawled beneath her. An aircraft roared overhead, a stark reminder of how far things had come—and how far they had fallen. She took a deep breath, trying to process what had just happened.

Moments ago, she had been thrust over a decade back in time, to a world untouched by the devastation she knew too well. The weight of her mission pressed on her shoulders: she was here to change it all, to fix the future.

Janna's words echoed in her mind like a solemn promise:

"I’m giving you and your beloved a second chance."

Her beloved.

Love.

Caitlyn.

Vi's heart tightened at the thought. If Janna was right, Caitlyn was here—alive, carrying the memories of the life they had shared. The very thought made her chest ache with both hope and uncertainty. If Vi was going to find her, she needed to start at Jayce's apartment. If the timeline held true, Caitlyn would show up there any moment now.

And if anyone could save them all, it was Caitlyn Kiramman.

As Vi maneuvered through the rooftops of Piltover, her sharp eyes caught sight of something unexpected: a plate of cupcakesl. A grin tugged at her lips, breaking the tension in her thoughts.

"Oh, this is gonna be funny," she muttered to herself.

Chapter Text

In what mad world am I? Caitlyn thought, her mind spinning as she struggled to keep herself composed—or at least appear so. But no amount of effort could stop the flood of emotions when her eyes landed on her mother. Alive. Vibrant. Not a single gray hair in sight, her striking blue eyes as full of life as Caitlyn remembered from all those years ago.

Tears she couldn’t control spilled freely down her cheeks, and before she knew it, she was sobbing like a newborn. It felt surreal—like waking from a nightmare only to find the sun shining.

“Caitlyn!” her mother exclaimed in surprise, but the words barely registered. Caitlyn threw herself forward, wrapping her arms tightly around her mother's waist so fierce it nearly knocked them both over.

It didn’t matter if it made no sense. Her mother was here, alive and well, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Caitlyn allowed herself to feel hope.

But her mother must have sensed something was wrong. Concern etched itself onto her face as she turned and called out, "Tobias, dear, get some water!" She gently cupped Caitlyn’s tear-streaked face. “What is ever the matter, Caitlyn?”

Caitlyn tried to speak, but all that came out were hiccups and half-sobs. Her face flushed crimson, the tears continuing to fall. Words wouldn’t come, no matter how hard she tried.

Her mother didn’t hesitate, guiding her toward one of the comforters in the living room. “Sit here, Caitlyn,” she said, her voice calm and soothing, though worry flickered in her eyes.

Moments later, her father hurried in, as concerned as ever carrying a glass of water. She knelt beside Caitlyn and held it out. “Drink this slowly dear ” she said softly.

With trembling hands, Caitlyn took the glass, nodding weakly. The warmth of their care and the surreal familiarity of it all was overwhelming—but grounding. For now, she let herself be taken care of, if only to steady her spinning mind.

Her parents’ bright blue eyes were fixed on her—a sight Caitlyn never thought she’d see again. They looked so young, so full of life. Grief hadn’t hollowed out her father, and death hadn’t stolen her mother. It was like stepping into a dream too fragile to be real.

“I had a bad dream…” Caitlyn murmured, her voice shaky. In truth, she’d been trapped in a waking nightmare for many, many years.

Her mother sighed softly, almost amused, as though Caitlyn were still the little girl who used to climb into her parent's bed after a storm.

But the truth was, Caitlyn was that girl again—back in the body of her teenage self. The realization hit her like a jolt, making her glance down at her hands. They were smaller, softer, untouched by the calluses of years spent surviving a harsh, broken world and her eyes plural- she had them back, that very thought would make Caitlyn sob even further , her reflection in the nearby glass confirmed it: the face staring back was younger, unburdened by the trials and grief of the future she had come to fix.

Her heart raced as the weight of her mission pressed down on her.For a moment, she let herself cling to the illusion, wishing she could bask in this fleeting comfort. But she knew better than anyone that time never stopped, and neither could she.

“Caitlyn, why don’t you get dressed and meet me by the garden? It’s been far too long since we had a proper mother-daughter talk.”

Only then did Caitlyn glance down at herself, realizing she was still in her pajamas. Heat rushed to her face as she blushed furiously. Her father, noticing her embarrassment, chuckled warmly. “I think that’s an excellent idea,” he said, his tone light. “I’ll have the chef prepare something special for my princess.”

Caitlyn nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the whirlwind of emotions inside her. She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to leave this moment, this perfect illusion where everything was as it should be.

If she could, she would live in this moment forever.

-

They were in the garden, a sanctuary of peace and color. Caitlyn’s eyes wandered over the familiar space, her memories flooding back like a tide. Mother and I used to come here when we needed an escape, she thought, letting out a dry chuckle. One of the few places we never argued.

Years of tension flickered through her mind—all the arguments, the stubborn silences. They were so alike in spirit yet so different in their approaches to the world. But this time, Caitlyn promised herself, she wouldn’t let things spiral the way they had before. She wouldn’t let this precious second chance slip away.

“You’ve made it, dear,” her mother called, her voice warm and inviting. “Come, take a seat. The chef has prepared some of your favorites.”

Caitlyn moved toward her, the scene feeling too perfect to be real. Her mother sat gracefully among the violet flowers-

Violet.

The thought struck Caitlyn, and her heart skipped. I hope she’s okay. I’m sure she is. She’s with her family now. A faint smile tugged at Caitlyn’s lips. Nothing matters more to Vi than family.

“Caitlyn.” her mother's voice snapped her back to reality

“Sorry, just thinking, Mother,” Caitlyn replied, snapping out of her thoughts.

“You appear to be lost in thought. This is very unlike you,” her mother said, fixing her with that pointed look—a look Caitlyn had seen countless times before. In the past, it would have sparked a wave of defiance in her, fueling yet another argument.

But now? Now she just stared at her mother

This was unlike Caitlyn. Everything about her felt foreign. The Caitlyn her mother knew had long been buried under the weight of guilt and grief. After her mother’s death, everything Caitlyn had been driven by that loss—every decision, every action, a way to atone for what she hadn’t been able to fix. Even eating had become a struggle, a chore she could barely manage unless Vi made the meal and was there to coax her through it.

“I’m sorry,” Caitlyn said softly, her voice trembling. Tears welled up again, threatening to spill over as the enormity of the moment pressed on her chest like a vice.

Her mother’s expression softened as if sensing the depth of her daughter’s turmoil, but Caitlyn couldn’t look her in the eye. This was too much, too perfect, and yet so utterly fragile.

“That must have been a whirlwind of a dream… what was it about?” her mother asked gently, pouring Caitlyn a cup of tea.

The aroma of freshly brewed leaves mingled with the floral scent of the garden, and the warmth of the delicate teacup in Caitlyn’s hands felt almost euphoric. It was grounding, soothing. But the words she was about to speak would shatter that peace.

“You hide it admirably, Caitlyn, like a true Kiramman woman.” her mother continued, her tone soft yet firm. “But I can see how much pain you’re in. I took the entire morning off to be here with you. I don’t recall you ever crying this much, or in such hysterics, since you were a little girl and to me and not your farther no less”

Caitlyn looked down, her hands trembling as she clutched the cup. Her mother’s insight was as sharp as ever, cutting through Caitlyn’s defenses with ease.

“It was such a bad dream, Mother,” Caitlyn managed, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. She took a shaky breath, her composure breaking. “I lost you”

-

" I know you doubt the merit of your birthright, Caitlyn There's wisdom in that. But remember: You're a Kiramman "her mother told her

The words echoed in Caitlyn’s mind, carrying both comfort and weight. She knew her mother’s intentions were to inspire her, to remind her of the strength and responsibility that came with the Kiramman name. Yet to Caitlyn, it was also a reminder of the burdens she bore—the heavy crown of her lineage and the expectations it carried.

She had to ensure the future unfolded as smoothly as possible, no matter the cost. The Kiramman name symbolized power and prestige, but for Caitlyn, it also symbolized duty—one she hadn’t always lived up to.

Her sins lingered in the back of her mind like shadows she couldn’t escape. No amount of good deeds could undo the past, nor could they erase the mistakes she had made or the lives lost because of them. But she could try.

-

After her picnic with her mother, Caitlyn retreated to her room, her emotions a tangled mess. The warmth of her mother’s loving words and presence had momentarily soothed her, but the gravity of her situation pressed heavily on her chest, forcing her to focus.

If history was correct, today was the day of the explosion in Jayce’s apartment—the day Hextech would first make its mark in Piltover.

Hextech was Jayce’s life’s work, a revolutionary invention that would transform Piltover into the City of Progress. It would put them on the map, solidifying their place as a beacon of innovation and prosperity.

But Caitlyn also knew the terrible cost. She had seen firsthand how Hextech would spiral out of control, turning from a symbol of progress into a tool of destruction. The future she had lived through was shaped by its unchecked power

She couldn’t allow it to develop.. Piltover’s bright future would crumble into chaos, and the lives of everyone she cared about would hang in the balance.

Determined, Caitlyn sat down to formulate a plan. There was too much at stake—failure was not an option.

But her thoughts were abruptly interrupted as something light flicked against the back of her head. Startled, she spun around, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes landed on him.

There he was—alive and young. Jayce. The years of war, loss, and the disastrous consequences of blending technology with magic hadn’t yet etched themselves onto his face. He was just as she remembered him before everything went wrong.

“Jayce!” she shouted her voice with both relief and sorrow. Without thinking, she bolted toward him and threw her arms around him in a fierce hug. She clung to him as though letting go might make him disappear, tears threatening to spill once again.

Jayce chuckled, his arms instinctively wrapping around her.

“Whoa there, Cait! You almost knocked the wind out of me!” he teased, his familiar warmth and humor breaking through the tension in her heart.

Caitlyn pulled back slightly, looking up she had missed him so much—another person stolen from her life before she could say a proper goodbye. Her joy at seeing him was tainted by the weight of what she knew was to come.

She dreaded the next step, but she had no choice. She had to put an end to the dreams of her best friend and the man she had long seen as an older brother. If she didn’t, the future would pay the price.

“What are you doing here?” Caitlyn asked, her voice still shaky from the surge of emotions.

“Your mother mentioned you weren’t doing the best,” Jayce explained, his tone gentle but matter-of-fact. “She thought it might cheer you up to get out for a bit, so she gave us the green light to head back to my apartment. You can take a look at my new work—I know you’re always curious.”

He grinned, that infectious, boyish charm of his shining through. “Plus, I’ll need you to do some heavy lifting. I just got a fresh shipment of supplies, and let’s just say it’s not light work.”

Caitlyn blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the sheer normalcy of his words. The casualness, the assumption that everything was fine, made her heart ache. But she managed a small smile, nodding. She couldn’t let him suspect anything yet. If she played along, she might find the opening she needed to steer him away from what was to come.

"Then what are we waiting for ?"

-

“Caitlyn, I was very clear—I needed help with the lifting!” Jayce grumbled, gesturing to the stack of boxes beside them.

“Oh, but you’re so strong, Jayce ,” Caitlyn replied with a teasing grin, her tone dripping with mock admiration.

Jayce rolled his eyes. “Caitlyn, you could at least take one box. That way, I don’t have to make two trips up to the apartment.”

Caitlyn was actually counting on that being the case as she stepped forward, and Jayce sighed in relief, assuming she was finally going to help. But instead of grabbing a box, she swiftly snatched the keys from his pocket.

“Wait—Cait!” he exclaimed, realizing too late what she was doing.

She turned and bolted, her laughter trailing behind her as she dashed toward the apartment complex.

“CAITLYN!” Jayce shouted, his voice a mix of frustration and disbelief.

“A little danger is worth the risk, don’t you think!?” she called back with a giggle, reflecting the words Jayce told her all those years ago

She had to reach the apartment before Jayce. She needed to see Vi—alive, young, and hers again. The thought sent a surge of adrenaline through her veins, pushing her to run even harder.

Oh, Vi.

she wondered how teenage Vi looked

Vi had seen plenty of pictures and paintings of Caitlyn throughout her life—baby photos, toddler portraits, awkward teenage snapshots. She had even been lucky enough to spend the better part of their twenties and thirties together, watching Caitlyn grow into the incredible woman she was.

But Caitlyn? She had never seen a single image of Vi from before they met. No childhood photos, no family portraits, nothing to hint at the girl Vi had once been. The only glimpses she had were from the Firelight mural, and the grim mugshots from Stillwater.

The thought made Caitlyn’s chest ache.

-

Chapter Text

Caitlyn rushed into the apartment complex, her heart pounding as her boots echoed against the polished floor. She practically flew up the flights of stairs, her muscles burning with the effort but her determination driving her forward.

When she reached Jayce’s apartment door, her hands fumbled with the keys. She was jittery, her fingers shaking with a mix of adrenaline and anticipation. Each second felt like an eternity as she struggled to fit the key into the lock.

The weight of what was to come pressed heavily on her chest. She didn’t know exactly what she’d find on the other side of the door, but she knew who she was hoping for. Vi. The thought alone was enough to keep her moving, despite the tremor in her hands.

Finally, the key slid into place with a soft click, and Caitlyn took a deep breath, bracing herself for whatever waited beyond.

she salmed the door openig

But to Caitlyn Kiramman’s shock, the apartment was empty.

She stepped inside cautiously, the air thick with silence. The space was untouched, its surfaces clean and orderly, well as orderly as Jayce's workspace could be-

Caitlyn locked the door behind her before she wandered over to Jayce’s table by the window, her eyes scanning his meticulous work. Schematics, notes, and a few scattered tools cluttered the surface. Amid the chaos, a small object caught her eye

—a cupcake?

Before she could process it a low and teasing, voice dripping with smugness said.

“Hey, looks like you didn’t get that growth spurt yet.”

Caitlyn stood there for a moment letting out a slight chuckle she was looked around, her breath catching in her throat as her gaze locked onto familiar silver-powder blue eyes.

Vi.

Her hair was so much more pinker than Caitlyn remembered, the half-shaved look still there, less extravagant though. Her clothes were unmistakably her—rebellious and practical, exuding a rugged charm that only Vi could pull off. The hand wraps were still there, and Caitlyn’s heart ached at the sight of them. She longed, so desperately, to peel them off and kiss away the pain they held

Vi had a little height over her, but Caitlyn knew it was only a matter of time before she would surpass Vi she had Kiramman blood in her veins.

Caitlyn let out a small, breathy gasp, her smile blooming naturally, a gap-toothed grin full of wonder and joy. Slowly, she brought her hand up to cup Vi’s face, her thumb brushing over the spot where her signature VI tattoo would be but all that was there were adroble freckles.

“It’s you,” Caitlyn whispered, in awe.

-

Vi stared into Caitlyn’s bright blue eyes, feeling a rush of emotions she hadn’t expected. There was something so innocent and adorably endearing in the way Caitlyn looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world. Vi had missed this sight more than she cared to admit—the soft, genuine way Caitlyn's gaze could make her heart skip, and her voice? Vi did not think her posh accent could be any more prominent.

Was this truly the same girl who once carried her rifle everywhere, even to family portraits?Her hair was silky, sleek, and perfectly styled in that signature side part. A single strand had slipped out of place, and rather than detracting from her beauty, it made Caitlyn seem even more human, more real. She wasn’t some unreachable goddess in a painting—she was Caitlyn. The girl who, no matter what, would always be hers.

"Doesn't get any realer... cupcake."

At the sound of her nickname, Caitlyn couldn’t help herself. She launched herself at Vi wrapping her hands around her neck and kissing her, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss that spoke volumes of longing, of a history and love that neither could escape. Vi was momentarily stunned, but she quickly reciprocated, her hands finding their way to Caitlyn's waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

It was softer than any kiss they’d shared before, gentler, more tender. Perhaps it was the absence of the usual sharp edge—this kiss was just pure incident and blissfull.

As the kiss deepened, Caitlyn tasted... frosting? The sweetness of it lingered on her lips, a sharp contrast to the rough edges of their past. Caitlyn pulled back slightly, a surprised smile curling on her lips. "Frosting?" she asked, breathless.

Vi chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "You took a while to come, so I figured I'd take a snack break," she said, a playful grin tugging at the corners of her lips. "Don’t worry though, I left you one. I don’t know what topside puts in their cupcakes, but they’re damn sweet... not sweeter than you, though."

Her smirk was teasing, her gaze flickering down to Caitlyn’s lips as if contemplating diving in for round two. But before she could lean in, Caitlyn placed a hand gently on her chest, stopping her.

"As much as I wish to continue this..." Caitlyn’s voice softened, but her eyes were serious, filled with the weight of everything that was still left to be done. "We have a lot to figure out."

-

“Simple enough, don’t you think?” Vi quipped

“We just have to play our cards right. But I don’t know how we’ll stop the development of Hextech. It’s Jayce’s life’s work. In this timeline, the explosion at his apartment doesn’t happen, so he doesn’t go on trial and doesn’t meet Viktor…”

Her voice trailed off, and Vi grimaced at the mention of the “ skinny tin machine herald ” as Jinx sarcastically dubbed Viktor.

"Everything is at stake," Caitlyn began, her voice trembling with urgency. "I have to make sure everything runs smoothly. I can't risk Piltover going to war with divine beings—not to mention Ambessa—"

Vi stepped forward, silencing her with a gentle yet firm hand cupping Caitlyn’s cheek. Her thumb brushed lightly against Caitlyn’s skin, grounding her.

"Cool it, Sheriff," Vi said, her voice soft but carrying that familiar rough edge. "That Hextech alien-cult shit doesn’t hit the fan for years. And that war pig won’t show her face in Piltover for another seven. Right now, our biggest problem is the corruption—both topside and down here in the Lanes."

Caitlyn hesitated, the weight of the future she carried pressing down on her. She took a deep, steadying breath, her gaze finally meeting Vi’s.

"Marcus and Silco, Sherriff Grayson is still alive I'm sure she will help put an end to this"

"One step at a time," Vi reminded her, her voice steady and unyielding. "We’ll figure it out, nothing will break us and stop us from navigating this shithole, you can talk the pretty boy out of his magical fantasy and keep that cult leader at bay for now, but we have enough time to enjoy what we missed - together"

In that moment, Caitlyn chuckled, feeling a flicker of hope spark within her. "I’ll get intel and use my own knowledge of the Lanes to figure out how much Shimmer has spread. Maybe even get Vander and Silco to make amends—if that alternate universe Ekko told us about is true—it won’t be too bad." She wasn’t alone in this fight—not anymore. Whatever came their way, they would face it side by side.

But before they could move further, a loud banging on the door interrupted them

"Caitlyn, open up! I’ve got one more crate to carry before I need to come in!" Jayce’s voice echoed as he went back downstairs.

"Shit, you have to go," Caitlyn whispered, eyes wide.

"Sure thing, Jayce!" she called back, her voice strained with forced cheerfulness as she began shoving Vi toward the balcony.

"Wait, hold up—I didn’t even get to loot this place!" Vi protested, planting her feet in mock resistance.

"You are not robbing Jayce!" Caitlyn hissed, her exasperation clear. "What part of his ‘life’s work’ don’t you understand?"

Vi smirked, crossing her arms. "Hey, I can’t leave empty-handed. You wouldn’t believe the fight I had to put up with Mylo and Powder just to come here without them."

The mention of that name stopped Caitlyn in her tracks.

" Powder? " she repeated, her voice softening, almost vulnerable.

Vi’s expression softened too, the faintest smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah," she said quietly. "She’s the same baby sister I told you about before... before I got hauled into Stillwater."

The mention of Stillwater cast a heavy shadow over them both. Caitlyn’s chest tightened as memories of Vi’s imprisonment flickered in her mind, a reminder of the pain and sacrifice they had both endured. Vi, too, felt the weight of the words settle in her stomach like a stone.

"Okay, here." Caitlyn shoved something into Vi's hands, her movements hurried and flustered.

Vi barely had time to glance down at the object before she was abruptly pushed against the balcony railing. "Hey, wait—!" she started, but Caitlyn was already nudging her toward the edge.

"Hold on!" Vi protested, gripping the railing to steady herself. Her voice softened "When am I going to see you again?"

Caitlyn hesitated, her blue eyes locking with Vi's for a moment that felt like it stretched forever. Then she gave a small, almost sly smile. "You know where I live, my balcony is always open" she said confidently.

Before Vi could respond, Caitlyn leaned in and pressed a quick, desperate kiss to her lips. " Our love " she whispered sang against Vi’s mouth.

" For eternity " Vi finished, her smirk softening it was there favourite song , their love song , a song about love and family.

"Don’t forget it," Caitlyn said, her tone firm as she pushed Vi toward the railing. "Now out! "

Vi’s smirk returned, but there was a flicker of something deeper in her expression—a longing she wasn’t ready to put into words. "Alright, Cupcake," she murmured. "I’ll hold you to that."

With one last look, Vi disappeared as she jumped from the balcony railing to the rooftop.

-

Jayce, now inside the apartment, eagerly began explaining his latest breakthroughs to Caitlyn. His hands moved animatedly over his scattered blueprints and prototypes as he described his vision.

Caitlyn listened, trying to suppress the storm of fear brewing within her. She had always known so little about the complexities of magic. This work—this blending of magic and science—was not just revolutionary. It was dangerously illegal.

"It’s beautiful, Caitlyn," Jayce said, his eyes glowing with passion. "It will be revolutionary—save so many lives, push Piltover to the forefront of innovation—"

"This has to be put to a stop, Jayce," Caitlyn interrupted, her voice cutting through his enthusiasm like a blade. She didn’t meet his gaze, her eyes fixed instead on the blue arcane crystals jayce took out to show her. She hated fighting with him, but this was bigger than their friendship.

Jayce blinked, taken aback. "What? Cait, I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to—"

"I understand perfectly," she snapped, her tone sharp enough to make him pause. "What you’re creating... it’s something that could turn terrible in the wrong hands. The Arcane is a curse upon our world, Jayce."

Her voice wavered slightly, and she turned away to hide it, focusing her gaze on the contraptions before her. She couldn’t tell him the full truth—couldn’t admit how deeply she knew the havoc Arcane magic would unleash on Piltover. Instead, she clung to what she could reveal.

"Councilor Bolbok’s race was nearly destroyed by it," she added, her voice steadying. "You’ve read the records. You know the risks."

Jayce frowned, his expression shifting from confusion to frustration. "And you think that’s a reason to stop? Cait, every great innovation comes with risks, but the rewards—the lives we could save—"

Caitlyn’s chest tightened. She knew his passion came from a good place, but it blinded him to the dangers ahead. She couldn’t let that blindness dictate the future.

"This isn’t just about progress, Jayce," Caitlyn said quietly, forcing herself to meet his eyes. "It’s about sustainability."

Jayce opened his mouth, ready to argue, but the weight of her words held him still. The room was suffused with a tense, suffocating silence, heavy with all the truths they weren’t saying.

"My work is being sponsored by your parents, they believe in this. I believe in this. I can’t just throw it all away—I won’t."

Caitlyn flinched, his words stinging like a slap the words etched into his memory:

This could cause you to be expelled from the Academy.

Your name will be ruined .

A misfit.

Anger, fear, and despair churned within her as she thought about what this could cost him—not just his reputation, but his life. She saw her best friend, her brother in all but blood, standing at the precipice of a disaster he couldn’t see.

"The Arcane is dangerous, Jayce," she said, her voice breaking under the weight of her emotions. "It’s a force of nature, unpredictable and uncontrollable. Science cannot tame it, no matter how brilliant you are."

Jayce took a step toward her, his brow furrowed with a mix of guilt and frustration. "Caitlyn, I’m doing this to help people. To change the world for the better. I thought you, of all people, would understand that."

"Help?" Caitlyn’s voice sharpened, trembling with urgency. "You think I don’t see that? I do , Jayce. But the cost... The cost will be too high. I’ve seen what this will lead to—" She stopped herself abruptly, realizing she’d almost said too much.

Jayce studied her for a long moment, confusion flickering in his eyes. "What aren’t you telling me?" he asked softly.

"Just trust me, Jayce," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Please, don’t do this."

Jayce stood there, his heart pounding as he watched Caitlyn. He had never seen her like this before—angry and clearly hurting. The weight of his actions hit him all at once. He had only wanted to push forward, to make progress, but now he realized just how much he had neglected the one person who mattered most in his life.

Caitlyn’s pain was a mirror to his own—she was carrying the burden.

Does she know about the magic man in the cloak?

Without thinking, Jayce moved toward her, his arms wrapping around her in a protective embrace. He pulled her into a brotherly hug, holding her close, hoping she could feel the sincerity of his words.

“I won’t ever put you in danger’s way, Cait.” 

Chapter Text

Vi stood once again on a rooftop in Piltover, her mind racing after being hastily pushed out by Caitlyn her Wife? Girlfriend?Friend? Stranger? What were they in this timeline? They had kissed before figuring anything out , and that was just how it always went with them. Caitlyn and Vi—unpredictable, spontaneous, but always undeniable.

It didn’t matter what they called it.

Vi loved Caitlyn, and Caitlyn loved her.

Vi finally looked down at her palm at what Caitlyn gave her, and there, shining was the Kiramman crest—crafted from pure gold. "The little shit" she muttered under her breath, staring at the emblem with a mix of surprise and a small chuckle. What did this mean for them now? She was the richest orphan in the lanes in a matter of seconds.

-

After haggling tirelessly with one of the jewelers, Vi walked away victorious, her satchel weighed down with three bags of coins. It was an amount that would have taken all the kids—Ekko included—working nonstop at Benzo's for a solid year to earn. Satisfied, she tucked the bags securely into her satchel and set off toward the Last Drop.

Vi had always stood out, her bright pink hair and her reputation for starting and winning fistfights did not help but she was older and wiser now she could avoid most of this.

Memories of what had happened all those years ago came rushing back. The fights, the lost the chaos. She shook them off and kept moving forward, her shoulders squared with determination.

Then, she saw him. Deckard, the parasite. In the other timeline, he and his lackeys had jumped them, all for the “ Nice haul ” But now Vi knew better. He wasn’t acting on his own. Silco had sent him to keep tabs on Vander’s kids, setting the stage for his inevitable attack. And that attack, Vi knew, would come soon—thanks to Silco’s alliance with that snake Marcus.

Vi pushed through the tension and stepped into the lift down to the Lanes. The sight of it all—a mix of disorder and life—was strangely comforting. For all its flaws, it was home. And Vi had never been happier to see it.

Before heading to the Last Drop, she made a few pit stops. She picked up small gifts for her family—even something for Little Man, she spent alot but she still had 2 full bags of coins left. Each item was carefully chosen, and though they were technically from her, by default, they were also from Caitlyn.

If Vi hadn’t known Caitlyn so well, she might have thought the girl was crazy for giving up pure gold. But Caitlyn was a Kiramman, and to her, that crest was just another trinket in a house that had at least a hundred of them lying around.

Vi smirked at the thought. I should have robbed the Kiramman mansion myself all those years ago. Maybe things would’ve been different .

-

Vi stepped into the Last Drop, the lively hum of activity hitting her like a familiar tune. Her gaze swept the room, quickly spotting Vander seated at a table. He was deep in conversation with three others—two who looked like out-of-town traders and Huck, still untouched by shimmer or the clutches of the arcane cult.

With a faint smile, Vi made her way to the room she shared with her siblings. The moment she opened the door, she heard Powder’s excited voice.

"Vi! You're back" Powder exclaimed, running toward her "Watcha get?" she asked, her curiosity bubbling over as she peeked at Vi’s satchel.

Vi laughed, warmth spreading through her chest. She missed this—the simple joy of having a little sister who adored her, someone who would always stay by her side. She ruffled Powder’s hair with a smirk.

"You miss me, or are you just being a greedy monkey?" Vi teased before launching a playful tickle attack. Powder squealed and darted away as Vi moved to the table, dumping the satchel onto its surface with a satisfying thud . The weighty sound immediately drew the attention of Mylo and Claggor.

“Oh, you really didn’t miss out, didcha, Vi?” Mylo said, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.

"Something like that," Vi replied with a grin.

Mylo made a move to peek inside the bag, but Vi’s reflexes were quicker. She slapped his hand away with a glare.

"Hey!" Mylo protested.

"Sit down and close your eyes, everyone," Vi ordered, her voice carrying an excited edge that instantly piqued their interest.

The three of them exchanged looks but obeyed, their curiosity outweighing their skepticism. Vi smirked as she opened the satchel, ready to share her treasures.

"hands out!"

Vi watched her siblings light up as they saw their gifts, and for a brief moment, the weight of their world didn’t seem so crushing.

Claggor was the first to speak, his face lighting up as he examined the jars of candy. “This is awesome, Vi! Thanks!” he said with a genuine smile that made Vi's heart ache in the best way. He immediately popped one of the candies into his mouth, savoring it like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

Mylo, on the other hand, tried to keep his cool, but his excitement was hard to miss. “A whole set? No way! This is sick, Vi. I’m gonna be unstoppable!” He held up the shiny new lock-picking tools like a trophy. Vi smirked, ruffling his hair. “Just don’t use them to get us all into trouble, alright?”

Finally, Powder—sweet little Powder—clutched her gifts like they were treasures from another world. “Colors and a new sketchbook? Vi, you’re the best!” she squealed, hugging the sketchbook tightly to her chest. Then her eyes landed on the wind-up monkey, and she gasped, winding it up immediately. As the little toy clattered to life, Powder’s laughter filled the room, a sound Vi hadn’t heard in what felt like forever.

“Vi, I love him!” Powder exclaimed, clutching the monkey like it was the most precious thing in the world.

Vi crouched in front of her, brushing a stray strand of blue hair from her sister’s face. “I knew you would, Pow Pow,” she said softly, her voice filled with affection.

Looking around at her siblings, Vi felt a rare and fleeting sense of peace. They were happy—for now—and that was enough.

“Alright, brats,” Vi said, straightening up and crossing her arms with a mock-stern expression. “Don’t make me regret spoiling you. Claggor, don’t get a toothache from that candy. Mylo, no breaking and entering just because you can and Powder…” She paused, her teasing smirk softening into something more genuine. “Try to blow shit up.”

Powder giggled, clutching the monkey to her chest. “I promise!”

Vi watched her for a moment longer, her heart swelling with determination. Powder’s laughter was everything. She needed to keep her little sister happy, to nurture her creativity and brilliance. If Powder could channel all that explosive potential for good, maybe—just maybe—they could rewrite their story. The city would respect them, one way or another.

“That’s hardly fair, Vi!” Mylo piped up with mock indignation, crossing his arms.

Vi chuckled, shaking her head. “Fairness isn’t part of the deal, Mylo. Now, listen up.” She swept her gaze over all of them, her tone shifting to something more serious. “We’re staying out of trouble for a while, alright? This job paid well, and if you need anything , you come to me. Don’t start any shit you can’t finish. Got it?”

“Whatever you say, Vander Junior,” Claggor teased with a wide grin.

The nickname earned a chorus of laughter from the group and a playful glare from Vi.

This was her family—messy, chaotic, and perfectly imperfect. And Vi knew, without a doubt, that she would do whatever it took to keep them safe and smiling. Even if it meant giving up everything.

-

"Hey, hey, Little Man," Vi greeted with a smirk

Ekko was one of the people Vi had the blessing to see grown up he was the boy savior Vi was going to protect him and his good heart, he didn't deserve to throw his childhood and happiness away to keep the lanes in order.

"Vi!" Ekko grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the alley outside Benzo's shop. His energy was practically buzzing.

"How was the trip to topside? What’d you get? What did you—"

"Calm it, Ekko," Vi interrupted, her voice firm but amused.

Ekko immediately straightened up, trying to compose himself like the little gentleman he was. That’s why everyone called him Little Man.

"Job went good," Vi said, crossing her arms with a satisfied grin. "Paid even better."

"Powder went with you guys, right? She was so excited," Ekko added, his voice tinged with pride.

Vi narrowed her eyes playfully, reading too much into his tone. Don’t tell me Ekko already has a crush on my sister.

"And what’s it to you?" Vi asked, her tone stern, raising one eyebrow for effect.

Ekko's confidence faltered instantly, and he began to stammer. “N-nothing! I was just... y’know... making conversation."

Vi laughed lightly "Relax, Little Man. I’m just messing with you. No, she didn’t go with me. It was more of a solo trip this time."

Ekko frowned, crossing his arms. "I thought you said you four were ready for a real heist?"

Vi sighed, her smirk fading slightly. "I know what I said. It’s just… I didn’t want anything to go down. Enforcers sniffing around, poking their noses in our business, that kinda crap. It wasn’t worth the risk."

Ekko nodded slowly, though his disappointment was clear.

"And you," Vi added, pointing a finger at him with mock sternness, "no more tips, no more poking around. Stay outta topside shit, and don’t go looking into things that don’t concern you."

"I’m just trying to help, Vi," Ekko said earnestly, his voice small. "I can’t fight... but I’m trying. I really am."

Vi softened, crouching down so she was eye level with him. "I know, Ekko. Believe me, I know. But we don’t all have to fight. That’s not your path."

"But you fight," he said, frustration edging his tone. "You kick everyone’s ass, and the kids in the Lanes respect you for it!"

"And I still get my ass beat every other week. New bruises, new scars. Fighting’s not all it’s cracked up to be."

She reached into her satchel, pulling out a small, wrapped package and holding it out to him with a smile. "You’re not a fighter, Ekko. You’re an inventor. That’s your thing. That’s what you’re good at. You and Powder both. Which is why I got you this."

His eyes lit up as he pulled out a set of finely crafted tools and an inventor's guide (she might have snooped a little in Jayces books shelf for this one)perfect for tinkering.

"Vi... this is... these are amazing!"

Ekko laughed, hugging the tools to his chest.

"Don’t mention it, Little Man," she said, standing up and ruffling his hair one last time. "Now get back to Benzo before he thinks I’ve stolen you."

Ekko saluted her, a wide grin plastered on his face, before running off into Benzos. Vi watched him go, her chest warming with a rare sense of pride. The Lanes might be rough, but the people in it—they’re worth it.

-

To say Vi was exhausted would be an understatement.

She had an objective three main objectives :

• Locate Silco
• Dismantle Shimmer.
• and Neutralize any agents still loyal to him

But how the fuck was she supposed to do that?

Silco was rallying the worst of the worst from the Undercity, gearing them up against Vander. In the original timeline, the explosion and Enforcers raiding the Lanes played right into Silco’s hands.

To everyone watching, Vander—the feared Hound of the Undercity—looked like he was doing nothing, just letting enforcers come into their territory. But in reality, he had been striking delicate deals with the sheriff, keeping the Undercity as safe as it could be , and tried to keep his kids out of Stillwater. Too bad his prodigy ended up rotting there anyway—.

Vi had lingered in the Lanes, hoping to catch wind of this glowing drug rumoured to enhance both physical and mental abilities. Nothing. She was desperate but not reckless. Going after Deckard wasn't an option.

Ekko had shared stories about other alternative timeline, possibilities that sounded surreal but offered a glimmer of what could have been. In that timeline, Vander and Silco had reconciled—made amends somehow.

It was almost impossible to believe.

The Silco Vi knew was driven by anger, betrayal, and an unquenchable thirst for revenge. He was relentless, his hatred for Vander over everything else. Yet, at the same time, Ekko’s words painted a different picture—a Silco who wasn’t a complete and utter monster.

It was hard to imagine, and even harder to accept.

Silco had always wanted the Undercity’s independence— the nation of Zaun.

But after the situation on the bridge, he’d become a changed man, not just physically with his missing eye, but emotionally. It was as if the betrayal had hollowed him out, leaving a man who would stop at nothing to see his brother’s downfall, even if it meant killing his brother’s kids in the process.

And yet, Silco hadn’t killed Powder. He could have, but he didn’t. He saw himself in her—that much Vi was certain of. He’d kept her alive, and more than that, he’d loved her like a daughter. But his love was toxic, twisted by his own pain hee filled Powder’s mind with fucked up delusions , that she had come to embrace the name Jinx.

Vi’s stomach churned at the thought. Her fists clenched tight, her knuckles white with tension.

I can’t fuck this up.

Vander had tried to reach out to Silco, to repair what had been broken. But Vander had been just as terrible at communication as Vi herself was. The letter he’d written—his attempt to fix what was broken and not lost—had never reached Silco. And without it, there had been no healing, no understanding.

What could have been peace had turned into a war that shattered lives.

Vi closed her eyes, taking a deep breath maybe, just maybe, she could use what Ekko had told her to shape a better future.

-

Don’t get Vi wrong—she loved Vander enormously, even if she was shit at showing it. He was the one who taught her how to throw a punch, how to stand her ground, and how to protect the people she cared about. From a young age, she had adored him, looking up to him as a figure of strength in a world that often felt like it was crumbling.

He’d taken her and Powder in after the bridge incident, carrying them both to safety. Vi could still remember the weight of that moment—the red smoke and rubble, she cried her heart out for her parents.

Her mother, the most loving, kind, and thoughtful woman she’d ever known. A woman who never got tired of cooking Vi and Powder’s favorite meals or playing silly games to make them laugh.

Her father —always spoiling them, giving them the silliest of nicknames, and always giving them piggyback rides and "uppies" no matter how old they were or how tired he was after working in the mines.

Dead, done, deceased , buried under a cloud of red smoke and wreckage.

Powder, too young to understand the full weight of what had happened, cried simply because Vi cried.

-

Vi sat at the bar, her elbow resting on the countertop with her hand keeping her face up She watched Vander clean a glass with the ease of someone who’d done it a thousand times.

He set down the glass, reached beneath the bar, and poured her a drink. Vi raised a questioning brow as he slid the glass across to her.

Vi took a sip and was immediately hit with the taste of something strong—not alcohol, but spiced apple cider. It was cold and had a sharp bite of cinnamon, the kind of drink that felt like a hug in liquid form. She gave him a look, half amused, half annoyed.

"No ID, no drink," Vander said with a grin, leaning on the bar. "But I’ll make an exception for you."

Vi rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips.

"What’s on your mind, kid?" Vander asked, his tone soft, sincerity cutting through the usual banter. He leaned forward slightly, wiping his hands on a rag. "And does it have something to do with Powder’s new monkey toy? Don’t think we’ll hear the end of those cymbals crashing together anytime soon."

Vi hesitated, There was so much she wanted to say, but the words tangled in her throat.

"I think we need to talk Vi."

Chapter Text

As Vander cleaned up shop, the bar was quiet except for the occasional creak of old wood. The rest of the kids were sound asleep. Not Vi. She still had to speak to Vander.

"So, what poor soul did you rob this time?" Vander asked his tone calm but cutting as he wiped down the bar.

"Hey, I didn’t—"

"No use lying. Mylo’s been testing his new tools on every lock in the place, I had to drag Claggor away from his snacks, and Powder hasn’t been this entertained since she and Ekko built that punk monocycle. Oh, and speaking of Ekko, he’s been busy building away with some shiny new tools."

Vi sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I didn’t rob anyone, okay? I didn’t come to fight."

"So I’m just supposed to believe you bought all those things with your own coins?" Vander’s voice hardened. "It's not like you to lie."

"I am not—"

" I know you went topside. You didn't get this haul just by robbing someone in the Lanes" Vander’s voice rose slightly.

"I didn’t get caught! I’m doing this for the family! We’re scraping by down here while topside’s got plenty! I want a better life for them!" Vi shot back, frustrated.

"I went alone!" this time   "I didn’t bring them with me! You’re the one who always says we have to earn our place in this world!"

Vander set the rag down, his movements calculated as he leaned on the counter, looking her straight in the eye. "And I’ve told you time and time again the Northside is off-limits—"

"—Who the hell is Silco?!" Vi cut him off, her voice sharp and defiant in his face. She hated fighting with Vander, but she needed to shut him up and steer the conversation to the real issue.

Vander froze for a moment, his hand tightening around the rag. He cracked as his eyes narrowed. "Where did you hear that name? Vi, if he got near you—"

"He didn’t! He didn’t!" Vi interrupted, throwing her hands up. "Vander, I just need you to listen. "

Vander hesitated but nodded his jaw tense.

Vi took a deep breath, steadying herself. "I heard this gang—their leader, Deckard—talking about this new... purple substance. It can turn people into beasts." it turned you into a beast   "They call it Shimmer it makes them stronger...makes them addicts, it's not just some drug Vander it's worse." She clenched her fists, her voice trembling. "Silco is behind it. He’s rallying people to go against you, Vander...he wants you dead" Vander didn't need to know that she didn't actually hear it from Deckard he just needed to know his brother is planning something.

Her voice broke on the last part, and she choked out the words.

"so I ask again...who the hell is Silco"

Vander took a moment longer than expected to reply and he just sighed

"I'll handle it Vi just go to bed" Vander tried to walk off but Vi stopped him

"Hold on, I didn't tell you all that for you just to dismiss it all, I could have kept this information to myself but I came to you "

vander kept moving "Hey!-"

"Put your hood on, we're heading out"

—

"Why are we here?"

The words cut through the silence as Vi stood on this damn bridge opposite Vander. Memories crashed into her like tidal waves—the echoes of screams, desperate cries for help, the deafening roar of bombings, and the sharp crack of gunfire.

"You still don’t understand," Vander said, his voice heavy with regret.

Vi clenched her fists, her patience wearing thin. "What I don’t understand is why you won’t tell me about him." that monster.

Vander sighed, his gaze distant, fixed on the misty horizon beyond the bridge. "I led us across this bridge, thinking things could change. If I hadn’t… your parents would still be alive. And I wouldn’t have lost my brother."

"Silco?.." Vi murmured, "He was your brother?"

"Not by blood," Vander admitted

"Blood doesn’t mean shit in the Lanes. Family is family," Vi shot back, her words laced with defiance.

"Blood doesn’t mean shit," Vander repeated"But you’ll do anything for Powder. You’ll put anyone and everyone above her, won’t you?"

"This isn’t about Powder," Vi snapped, her tone sharp. "She doesn’t want me dead ."

Vander turned to her then, his eyes filled with a sorrow that seemed infinite. "What happened between you two? What tore you apart?"

Vi hesitated. She knew the story. She had heard it all when Jinx read Vander’s letter to Silco. Yet, something in her urged her to push.

"Your mother was so scared when she found out she was pregnant with you," Vander said softly "She feared she wouldn’t be a good mom."

Vi let out a quiet laugh, more bitter than amused. "That’s hard to believe."

"It’s the truth," Vander insisted. "She didn’t know the first thing about kids. Got sweaty just being alone with one." He chuckled, the sound tinged with nostalgia. "But I had no doubt in my mind she’d be a great mother."

"She was the best," she whispered.

Vander smiled faintly, his eyes glistening with memories. "She made us swear to fix the shit down here , even if it meant carving it out of the bedrock in blisters. We weren’t allowed to fail. Not for you . Not for her. "

"And then?" Vi asked, her voice trembling.

"When she died…" Vander paused, his voice breaking. "I lost myself."

When you died I lost myself   Vi thought

"I hurt him," Vander continued

I hurt her

"And I just left him there," Vander said, the guilt heavy in his voice.

And I just left her there

"Enforcers were coming,"

Enforcers took me away

"I looked everywhere, but it was clear he didn’t want to be found," Vander admitted, his words laced with bitterness and defeat.

I looked everywhere, but it was clear she didn’t want me around .

"I betrayed him by working with enforcers"

I betrayed her by becoming an enforcer ........

As if reading her mind, Vander spoke, his voice earnest and steady. "I don’t want what happened to us to happen to you and Powder."

Vi looked up at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. "It won’t" she said firmly.

"And if one of you changes?" Vander challenged, his gaze steady but probing as he searched Vi’s face.

Vi didn’t flinch. "We’re still sisters. I’ll love her, even if she changes... even if I change."

"I think you should speak with him."

Vander blinked, caught off guard. "The man who wants me dead?" vi gave him a loook "Your words, not mine."Vanders rough voice said in the cold night.

"If you were brothers, and he knew you and my mom well enough…" Vi hesitated, Ekko better be fucking right "You can talk to him, to stop this.".  

"Please, Vander... for the Lanes... for me ." Her voice cracked, and she hated how vulnerable she sounded, but she couldn’t stop herself.

Vi rarely asked Vander for anything. She knew the weight he carried—the world already burdened him enough. But this? This mattered too much.

Vander sighed deeply, setting his hands on the bar. "You’ve been acting strange lately... "   Oh shit   "This morning was a surprise when you launched an attack hug on me."

Vi rolled her eyes "Again, I’m not complaining, kid," Vander added with a chuckle. "It’s just... all of a sudden, you seem less angry, like you don’t have the entire world on your shoulders, you want to talk instead of fight head frist"

But I do, Vi thought, the weight of everything pressing in on her again.

Vander’s tone shifted, more serious now. "But you’re still robbing topside—"

"I told you, I didn’t rob anyone," Vi cut in, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

—

Vander didn’t know what to say. He had never seen Vi this determined to talk—she was more of a punch first, say sorry later kind of girl. He’d been the same once. But something had changed in Vi. He knew it, even if he couldn’t pinpoint the reason.

The silence between them stretched, heavy with unspoken words.

Finally, Vi let out a sigh, her gaze drifting toward Piltover. Her expression softened in a way Vander never thought possible.

He followed her gaze, watching her study the shining city above. Out of all his kids, Vi was the most stubborn. She hated Piltover—the status, the people, the Enforcers. She’d never hidden her opinions about it.

So why did she look so calm now, staring at it?

Something clicked in Vander’s mind. He had been Vi’s parental figure for years—before and after her parents’ deaths. He knew his girl inside and out, and he knew that look.

"You got a friend up there?"

Vi smirked, still not breaking her gaze from the gleaming buildings of Piltover. "Somethin’ like that," she admitted casually. Vander crossed his arms, trying to mask his growing concern. Conflicted didn’t even begin to describe how he felt. Vi making friends? With a topsider, no less?

"Don’t worry," Vi added with a faint grin. "She’s sweet."

she

More than just a friend perhaps?

"Your friend," Vander finally said, breaking the silence. "The one who helped with the gifts?"

Vi nodded, her expression softening just a little.

"She seems awfully generous," Vander remarked, his voice cautious. He wasn’t sure if he meant it as praise or a warning.

"She is," Vi replied simply.

There was a certainty in her tone that left little room for argument, though it did nothing to ease Vander’s unease. Vi was giving minimal answers, and Vander didn’t want to push—though he wanted to know more. Instead, he sighed.

"Wanna head back down?" he asked, his tone softer now.

"I’ll see you soon,"

"You’re not coming with? It’s late, Vi," Vander warned. "A certain part of the undercity is awake."

Vi had flicker of mischief in her eyes. "Don’t act like you haven’t turned a blind eye when me and Mylo snuck out to the entertainment district."

Vander huffed. She wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t dumb—he knew when his kids were up to no good. He even noticed when a bottle was a little emptier in the morning than it had been the night before. But he let it slide.

He wanted to give them room to live, to grow. He didn’t want to be overbearing, but just protective enough for them to know their limits. And if they did mess up, they knew they could always come to Vander. He’d sort it out—no matter what.

"I’d ask where you’re going," Vander said, watching her closely, "but I have a feeling you’re not going to tell me."

Vi simply hummed

"Am I ever going to meet this friend of yours?" Vander asked, raising an eyebrow. "I’d like to thank her personally for the headache I’m going to get because of that monkey toy."

Vi chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. "That was actually my fault," she admitted.

Felicia had given Vi the honor of naming her new baby sister. When Vi had first seen her, she’d been reminded of the powder monkeys from Bilgewater—scrappy, resourceful little creatures with boundless energy. So, she’d named her Powder.

A small smile crept across Vi’s face as the memory surfaced. She could still picture that moment, the first time she’d laid eyes on her little sister. Powder had been the cutest baby Vi had ever seen—not that she’d been around many babies. But Powder? She was something else.

Those big, curious eyes seemed ready to take in the entire world, and her bright blue hair stood out like a beacon. Powder had taken the gentler parts of their mother, while Vi had inherited the rest. They were opposite halves of the same whole.

For a moment, Vi’s tough demeanor softened, the weight of the present melting away under the sweetness of the memory. "I have to keep the Powder Monkey tradition going. Pow drawing monkeys everywhere doesn’t help either," Vi said with a smirk.

Vander chuckled, giving her a knowing look. "Don’t stay out too late," he said as he turned and walked away.

Chapter Text

Vi could probably navigate this path in her sleep without getting lost. She swept through Piltover, the streets mostly empty except for a few people heading home. Still, Vi decided it was quicker and safer to stick to the rooftops, testing her parkour skills. She was back at square one, rebuilding her physique from the ground up. It didn’t bother her, though—this time, she could put on healthy weight and build muscle because she wanted to, not because she had to. Not because she was the youngest inmate in Stillwater, constantly proving herself every day to everyone just to survive.

Vi tried to shake the memories away, she was unwilling to get caught up in the demons that had haunted her during the seven long years in Stillwater—and even during the years she’d spent with Caitlyn.

In that timeline, Caitlyn was all Vi had, and Vi was all Caitlyn had. They would hold each other for hours, whispering reassurances to keep the guilt and demons from consuming them whole. They made promises to each other, fragile vows to give them something—anything—to look forward to.

Vi loved her wife. She was madly, deeply, and completely in love with Caitlyn. But oh, Jana, were they miserable —not because they hated each other or felt forced to be together, but they were miserable because they hated who they had become. They were broken and weighed down by guilt for being the sole survivors of their families.

Vi was determined to turn it all around.

But right now she had a little lady to visit.

-

Caitlyn tossed and turned in her bed, unable to fall asleep no matter how hard she tried. You’d think after today’s events—and the mind-bending shock of changing realities—she’d be out cold. But no, she was wide awake and utterly exhausted.

Who could blame her? After spending the better part of her life sleeping next to a human heater who gave the best cuddles, a cold, empty bed felt like pure solitude. No matter how rough the day had been in their past life, falling asleep beside Vi made everything better. She wished Vi was here...

And then, as if Jana herself had heard her wish, Caitlyn heard a soft tapping at her window. She shot upright and turned toward the sound. The moment her eyes landed on the window, she bolted toward it without a second thought.

"Ah! VI!" Caitlyn whisper-screamed as she hastily opened the window.

Vi chuckled softly, slipping into Caitlyn’s room with practiced ease. Her hands were tucked behind her back, and she moved quickly to keep Caitlyn from seeing whatever she was hiding.

The two just smiled at each other, the room bathed in gentle moonlight.

“What are you hiding?” Caitlyn asked, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.

Vi couldn’t help but give her a lovesick look, utterly entranced. Caitlyn’s tooth-gap smile had a way of making her forget everything—it could heal wounds Vi didn’t even know she had.

"Wouldn’t you like to know" Vi teased, stepping carefully, keeping out of Caitlyn’s reach as she walked backward.

“Come on, you didn’t come all this way just to run away. Please, show me what you’ve got,” Caitlyn pouted face puffing up.

“And what do I get if I show you?” Vi smirked, clearly trying to maintain the upper hand in this game.

Oh, so that’s how she wanted to play it. Caitlyn could play too.

“Anything... everything ” Caitlyn replied, her tone dripping with exaggerated sincerity but full of playful curiosity. Her accent was much more prominent now than it had been in later years, a remnant of her upbringing. Who could blame her? Every interaction was meticulously orchestrated by her mother, who ensured only the best of the best teachers—and the most “appropriate” company—were allowed near her. Even at formal events, her mother controlled who she could speak to, and how she spoke.

Vi swallowed hard, her teasing bravado faltering as Caitlyn stepped closer. She wore a delicate set of light blue pajamas, complete with 2 little bows at the top and frills decorating the edges. It was exactly how Vi had imagined her in her youth—so perfect she really was the Kiramman princess .

Finally giving up on their little game, Vi gave a shy smile and revealed what she had been hiding behind her back: a bouquet of flowers and a stuffed midnight blue bunny.

“Oh, Violet ...” Caitlyn whispered, a mix of affection and surprise lighting up her face.

“Actually, they’re purple lilacs,” Vi corrected with a sly grin. “Very befitting to our situation.”

Caitlyn took the flowers gently, out of Vi's bandaged hand and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek Caitlyn at to lean up to kiss Vi something she had to get used to while Vi's other gloved hand held the bunny. Caitlyn crossed the room to place them in one of the many vases. “What do you mean?” she asked, glancing back as Vi sat on the bed, toying with the bunny.

“You know, when I started taking care of your mother's garden, I read a lot about flowers, and how each and every one had a symbolic meaning” Vi began, watching as Caitlyn hummed in acknowledgment and returned to sit beside her on the bed. Caitlyn sat so formally with her back straight and legs crossed like she was at dinner with the councilors Vi chuckled . She guesses old habits die hard and Cassandra's training is like muscle memory to Caitlyn's body in this timeline .

Vi extended her bandaged hand, and Caitlyn took it without hesitation. Vi pulled her close to calm her down and break that aristocratic sitting manner Caitlyn had going on.

“It’s a blessing we can start over, y’know? To save everyone, to make sure the future is as peaceful as it can be.” Vi’s voice softened as she spoke.

She paused, her hand brushing Caitlyn’s as she continued, “We can start fresh, but we don’t have to forget the love we shared before. We can build something new, something pure.”

The words hit Caitlyn like a wave, and she fidgeted and Vi noticed but simply chuckled softly.

“I’m rambling,” Vi said, almost breathlessly. “Purple lilacs..... They symbolize the first emotions of love. In this timeline, you’re my first and only love. Our love won’t be tainted—I won’t let it.”

Caitlyn looked at Vi as though she had hung the stars in the sky but to Caitlyn, Vi hadn’t just hung them; she had crafted each and every one, just for her.

“You are so precious to me Violet, I don’t know what I did to deserve you” Caitlyn whispered, her voice full of warmth, her heart swelling with a mix of something old and something beautifully new.

Vi just smiled, at her as she gently took Caitlyn’s hand, lifting it to her lips for a soft kiss.

“I also got you these gifts to ask... Caitlyn No-Middle-Name Kiramman, will you allow me to be your girlfriend?” Vi asked, her tone playful but her eyes earnest.

Caitlyn snorted, unable to help herself. “Vi, we’re married!”

“Nah-uh, that was in the other timeline,” Vi countered with a smirk. “As much as I’d love to marry you again right now, you’ve gotta admit, it’d be a bit controversial.”

“You are so silly,” Caitlyn said, rolling her eyes affectionately.

“You still didn’t answer my question.”

Caitlyn chuckled, a soft laugh that carried a rumble of love blooming in her chest. “Yes, Violet No-Middle-or-Last-Name... yet . I’d love to be your girlfriend. But only if I get to be yours.”

Vi grinned. “I’m the dirt under your nails, Cupcake. You’re never getting rid of me.”

Caitlyn shook her head, her laugh light. “You really need to stop reading those cliché—”

Her words were cut off as Vi leaned in, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss. The world outside melted away, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in each other’s warmth as they fell back onto the bed.

“So,” Vi began, her voice teasing as she propped herself up slightly, “do I have the honor of being the first girl to sneak into your bedroom? Or were you already on your lesbian insanity run?”

Caitlyn couldn’t help but smile, her laugh soft as she hummed a reply. “You’re the first girl I’m in love with ...who snuck through that window in both timelines, so you have an even greater honor ” she murmured sleeply , trying to save face. She had no intention of revisiting the memory of the other girls who had climbed into this room before. Vi was the only one who mattered now and always .

“Aren’t you sweet? Don’t worry, you’re not my first either,” Vi teased playfully, brushing a stray strand of hair from Caitlyn’s face. Before Caitlyn could talk or argue with the fact Vi just confessed, Vi leaned in and kissed her nose, with a loud exaggerated “Mwah!”

Caitlyn rolled her eyes, Vi always knew how to disarm her with humor and affection, but Caitlyn Kiramman was a jealous woman especially when it came to Violet.

Vi continued, her tone softening, “You sound sleepy. Let’s get you to bed.”

Caitlyn let out a yawn she couldn’t suppress and gave a small nod, allowing herself to be guided under the blankets and tucked in  snugly  by Vi with her new favorite stuffed bunny. Caitlyn yawned, her eyelids already droopy. “Can you stay? Just until I fall asleep? I’m going to miss sleeping and waking up next to you so much, Darling” she mumbled, her words soft and drowsy, but Vi heard every one of them like a melody.

“Whatever you want, Princess,” Vi replied warmly. How could she refuse? Sliding in beside her but above the blankets on this queen-sized bed, Vi figured she’d soon be listening to Caitlyn’s gentle snores.

Except Caitlyn didn’t fall asleep.

Instead, those bright, sharp blue eyes stayed wide open sparkling, and staring at Vi with an intensity.

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be asleep?” Vi teased, her voice low and affectionate, leaning in as Caitlyn tried to burrow further under the blanket.

“Who was she? ” Caitlyn asked, her voice muffled but sharp enough to make Vi pause.

“Who was who?” Vi played dumb, Caitlyn freed a hand from the blanket and pinched her cheek.

“You know who I’m talking about,” Caitlyn huffed, holding Vi’s cheek in her grasp for a moment longer before releasing it."Hey! Cait come on!"

Vi laughed, rubbing the spot. “Forgot how jealous you get.”

Caitlyn puffed her cheeks out even more, turning her head away from Vi and snuggling her new bunny tighter. At least the bunny doesn’t have an ex-lover, she thought bitterly.

Trying to hide her growing pout, Caitlyn buried her face deeper into the pillows, but Vi wasn’t having it. With a mischievous grin, she leaned in and gently bit Caitlyn’s cheek.

“Vi!” Caitlyn squealed, her voice high-pitched with both surprise and annoyance.

“Just payback, baby,” Vi said smugly, watching Caitlyn huff again in frustration.“Hey, you can’t look this cute if you’re trying to be mad at me,” Vi lifted her hand to stroke Caitlyn's hair. “It just makes me want to annoy you more —to see how red and puffy your cheeks can get."

Caitlyn gave Vi a stern look, her eyebrows knitted tightly together. Vi was unable to resist Caitlyn’s adorable pout, leaned in closer, and kissed her forehead.

“You just admitted to sneaking girls in your room doing things that would make a self-righteous windbag blush,” Vi said with a sincere, teasing tone, “and you’re angry at me ?”

Caitlyn's cheeks heated up with embarrassment. She pulled the blanket higher, trying to hide her face. It wasn’t fair how Vi could make her feel so silly and childish, even after all these years.

Deep down, Caitlyn knew her jealousy was slightly irrational. Vi had always been loyal to her—Caitlyn could recall too many times when women flirted with Vi despite the ring on her finger, despite the way Vi always rejected them, despite the fact that Caitlyn stood right beside her. And yet, the green-eyed monster in Caitlyn still stirred at the thought of anyone being Vi’s first.

“Those girls were nothing but a messy rushed makeout session...we didn't go further than that ...” Caitlyn muttered under her breath, gripping the stuffed bunny a little tighter, “So, yeah, I am jealous of some random Undercity girl who was your first, because I'm..... I'm still inexperienced in ...” Caitlyn's face reddened and she hid behind the bunny.

Vi blinked at her, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “Oh, Cait,” she murmured, tucking a stray lock of Caitlyn’s hair behind her ear. “You’re my first real everything. Why are you acting like we haven't done... everything .”

The sincerity in Vi’s voice made Caitlyn’s pout falter, her jealousy melting away as warmth replaced it. Caitlyn couldn’t help but smile and lean up to kiss Vi. “I love you, Violet, I'm sorry...”

“I love you too baby so don't worry your pretty head, you’re stuck with me, remember that Cupcake” Vi teased, leaning in to kiss Caitlyn again.

After a few moments of silence

“You’re so pretty,” Caitlyn said out of nowhere dreamily breaking the kiss. Vi blinked, utterly stunned.

“The firelight mural didn’t do you any justice,” Caitlyn continued, her voice soft as her fingers brushed lightly against Vi’s face, tracing the freckles scattered across. “They’re so much more prominent now, I want to count each one...be the only one to kiss each one.”

Vi’s face grew warm under Caitlyn’s touch, her heart flipping in her chest. It was the same look Caitlyn had given her all those years ago, the first time they lay together in this very bed.

Trying to save face, Vi glanced down at the plush bunny nestled under the blankets with Caitlyn. Caitlyn followed her gaze, a playful curiosity lighting her features.

“Why a bunny?” Caitlyn asked, tilting her head. “You’ve called me ‘a rich unhinged mongoose’, ‘kitty Cait’ even 'Lovebug' but a bunny ?” Caitlyn sounded so confused and Vi chuckled at the memories, her fingers brushing the soft fur of the toy. “You remind me of a bunny” she said simply.

“I do?” Caitlyn replied, her posh tone dripping with mock offense, Vi really has to get used to how prominent it is now.

Vi smirked, leaning closer, her voice dropping to that teasing that Caitlyn secretly adored. “Your face... it’s still sharp and angular—blame it on those hot Kiramman genetics that dominate the bloodline.”

That earned a laugh from Caitlyn, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she shook her head into the pillow.

“But,” Vi continued, her voice softening, “it’s so much softer and fuller now. Maybe it’s because you’re younger…” She paused, Or maybe it’s because you don't feel guilty about eating and I don't have to make your favorite traditional meals, practically spoon-feed you so you don't starve yourself.

"When you pout—like when I wouldn’t show you the gift—or when you had a hissy fit a few minutes ago....you look exactly like a bunny except for the ears and puffy tail, of course, I'm sure we can buy it somewhere. ” Vi waggled her eyebrows.

“You’re impossible,” Caitlyn said, giggling as her laughter subsided, the warmth in her voice betraying her affection.

“And you love me for it,” Vi quipped, pulling Caitlyn into her arms. She let the moment linger, savoring the closeness, before her voice softened. “I also got the bunny so you wouldn’t be alone at night... I’m going to miss waking up next to you in this big warm fancy bed.”

Caitlyn let out a quiet, contented sigh, the only reason why this bed is warm is because of you Vi , Caitlyn snuggled the plush bunny tighter as her eyes began to flutter shut. “I’ll miss you too,” she mumbled, her voice heavy with drowsiness.

Vi watched her for a moment, her heart swelling as Caitlyn snuggled deeper into the blankets. Carefully, Vi slid out of bed, doing her best not to disturb her. She leaned down, brushing a soft kiss against Caitlyn’s forehead.

“I love you so much, Cait,” Vi whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’ll see you soon.”

With one last lingering glance, Vi quietly slipped out of the window, leaving Caitlyn to dream peacefully.

—

Caitlyn stirred awake, her eyelids still heavy. Even through the haze of sleep, the golden rays of the morning sun crept in, warming her skin. She groaned softly, rubbing her eyes. When she finally looked around, the sight made her pause. A small, contented sigh escaped her lips. It wasn’t a dream she was still here that realization filled her with an odd mix of nostalgia and relief but a sudden knock on the door startled Caitlyn.

"Miss Kiramman, may I enter?"

Caitlyn yelped at the familiar voice, hastily pulling herself out of bed and bolting to the door almost tripping when she opened the door the person who as there was... Amélie!

Amélie had been a loyal worker at the Kiramman mansion for many many years. In her late thirties, she held a special role in the household—dedicated to looking after Caitlyn, the cherished heiress of the Kirammans.

"Good morning, Miss Kiramman. I’m sorry if I startled you, but it’s time to get ready for the day" Amélie said with her usual warm smile.

Caitlyn just stared at her, but before she could get a word, Amélie continued, "I’ll run a bath for you, and you can pick out whatever outfit you’d like to wear today Miss." as she walked into the bedroom.

Caitlyn could only stare blankly at Amélie, who seemed to pick up on her confusion and quickly tried to soften the situation. "Oh—my apologies, Miss Kiramman! Why don’t you take a few moments to rest? I’ll let you know when everything is ready."

"No! No, I’m sorry, Amélie," Caitlyn blurted out, shaking herself from her trance. "I’m just... a little tired, that’s all."

"It’s not a problem, Miss" Amélie replied with a reassuring tone. "Take your time. I’ll call you once everything is prepared. Would you like anything in particular for breakfast?"

Caitlyn blinked, overwhelmed by the pampering it was long since someone other than Vi showed her care and softened. She grew up surrounded by care and affection from the mansion staff, who’d watched her toddle around as a child. Even now, they spoiled her with unwavering attention , she forgot all about this, and she hated all of this .

"Anything is fine," Caitlyn managed to say, her voice softer.

Amélie smiled warmly. "Very well, Miss. I’ll have everything ready for you shortly."

As Amélie left to prepare the bath, Caitlyn stood in the quiet room, grappling with the strange mix of familiarity and chaos swirling in her mind.

Caitlyn had entirely forgotten about the hectic schedule she had from a young age. Dozens of private tutors filled her days, each assigned to mold her into the perfect Kiramman heir. Everyone would say Caitlyn was one of the most well-mannered and educated kids of the councilors, it was all surgically planned by her mother since birth.

There were language tutors who ensured she was fluent in several tongues—. Then there were the math and science tutors, because, as her mother often reminded her, “A woman must be educated.” Jayce helped sometimes when things got a little too overwhelming.

She had a literature tutor, who also doubled as her language coach. Those hours, spent unraveling the beauty of prose and poetry, were at least tolerable but the woman was a nuthead.

But the worst? The etiquette tutor.

Caitlyn grimaced just thinking about it. The endless drills on posture, the exhaustive lessons on dining protocols, the constant nitpicking about how to present herself in every conceivable social situation. It was maddening.

She sighed, rubbing her temple. Back then, her schedule had felt suffocating, but there had been one bright spot in the chaos besides spending time with Jayce was her time with Sheriff Grayson .

Sheriff Grayson was a close friend of the Kirammans and Caitlyn's role model. Grayson had been a breath of fresh air amidst the stifling expectations of her upbringing. Unlike everyone else, Grayson treated Caitlyn like a person, not just a Kiramman. She listened to Caitlyn's dreams, respected her opinions, and, most importantly, inspired her.

It was Grayson who had planted the seed of Caitlyn's ambition to become an enforcer that she was so much more than an excellent shot she could change Piltover for the better if she truly despised being a councilor that much—a dream that had drawn her mother's disapproval and her father's quiet worry. But Caitlyn had been determined to become an enforcer then, and she was even more determined now.

In this timeline, she was determined to become more than just the future sheriff or the leader of House Kiramman. She would represent justice and protect those who couldn’t protect themselves, steering clear of the mistakes that had haunted her. She would never allow herself to become selfish or consumed by revenge.

Here, she had nothing to avenge—only everything to protect.

"Miss Kiramman, your bath is ready."

Caitlyn exhaled slowly and made her way to the bathroom. As she sank into the warm water, a soothing calm began to wash over her. The bath was surrounded by her collection of oils, lotions, and fragrances—all thoughtful gifts from her Aunt.

The floral scents of blooming gardenias and fresh lavender filled the air, creating a comforting cocoon of nostalgia. Each fragrance felt like a tangible link to her childhood—simpler, carefree times when everything seemed safe and unchanging. Caitlyn let the memories envelop her, calming her nerves.

Once Caitlyn finished her bath, she dried off and turned to the neatly arranged outfit Amélie had prepared for her. It was both sophisticated and youthful, striking the perfect balance without feeling tacky.

She slipped into a crisp white shirt layered with a soft white knit. The plaid skirt added a timeless touch, sitting just above her knees, while the short, formal blue coat stopped at her waist, subtly highlighting her silhouette. The final detail was a navy-blue necktie, adorned with the Kiramman family crest—a signature element of all her outfits, a constant reminder of her lineage.

Caitlyn was never really a skirts or dresses type of girl they didn't allow her much mobility and she hated how people stared at her legs, she felt much more comfortable in pants but she wasn't going to burst Amélie's bubble.

"Why don’t you sit while I do your hair, Miss Kiramman?" Amélie suggested with a warm smile. "Then you can head down for breakfast with your parents."

Caitlyn nodded and took a seat at her vanity, catching her reflection in the mirror. She adjusted the tie slightly, her fingers lingering on the emblem. It was a small yet significant reminder of who she was and the weight of the legacy she carried, even as she braced herself for the day ahead.

As Amélie began brushing through her hair, she glanced at the vanity and chuckled lightly. "So, Miss Kiramman, who’s the stuffed Bunny from? Aren’t you a bit old for those?"

Chapter Text

Caitlyn's pupils shrank instantly and she stared at Amélie through the vanity mirror, Amélie must have noticed because she began giggling uncontrollably.

"Oh! I'm sorry, young miss! But your face—" she broke into another fit of giggles, covering her mouth but failing miserably at stifling her amusement. Caitlyn pouted, crossing her arms with a huff.

“So,” Amélie teased, her eyes sparkling with curiosity, “Are you going to tell me who this secret admirer is? Because don’t think I haven’t also noticed the new flowers in your room, young Miss”

Caitlyn’s cheeks flushed, and she looked away, suddenly finding the corner of her desk very interesting. “I... have no idea what you’re talking about,” she mumbled, clearly not fooling anyone.

Amélie smirked, leaning in just slightly. “Oh, come now, young miss. A bouquet of purple lilacs? A stuffed bunny? How did you even sneak those in? Wait!....did they? Is that why the young Miss is tired!?”

Caitlyn blushed furiously, her face practically glowing red. As soon as Amélie put the brush down, she bolted out of the room.

“Miss Kiramman!” Amélie called after her, stifling another laugh.

“Sorry, Amélie! I have to get down for breakfast!” Caitlyn replied hastily, disappearing down the hall.

Making her way to the dining room, Caitlyn greeted her mother with a warm hug and a kiss to her cheek. The gesture seemed to catch Cassandra off guard, but to Caitlyn’s surprise, her mother reciprocated, holding her tightly for a moment.

Her father, however, was much more energetic. Standing up from his seat, he scooped Caitlyn into a bear hug and spun her around, prompting a delighted shriek. The room erupted with laughter.

“Someone woke up in a good mood,” Cassandra teased, an amused smile tugging at her lips as she sipped her tea.

Caitlyn just grinned as Tobias set her back on her feet. They all sat down, falling into a comfortable silence as they ate. The clinking of silverware and the occasional soft hum of conversation filled the room.

Before she knew it, breakfast was over they were all sitting in the living room, and it was time for Cassandra to leave. Her mother stood in front of the full-length mirror to adjust her earrings and Caitlyn sat on the living room couch looking at her and pouted, clearly reluctant and not liking the idea of her mother leaving.

“Don’t pull your face like that, Caitlyn. You will cause early wrinkles,” Cassandra said firmly as she gave Caitlyn a side glance.

“I’m going to miss you. ” Caitlyn replied, putting on her best puppy-dog eyes—or, as Vi would call them, bunny eyes—to try and convince her mother to let her stay home.

Her mother gave her a small knowing smile. “I doubt you’d want to accompany me to the political meetings I have today, dear. Besides, you have plenty of lessons planned.”

Caitlyn’s pout deepened into a full-on frown as she stared at her feet. Cassandra, noticing her daughter's sudden sadness, softened her tone. “...But I suppose I could allow you to visit the Sheriff later. I know how much you adore her.”

At the mention of Sheriff Grayson, Caitlyn's face lit up instantly. “Really?” she asked, her voice brimming with excitement.

Cassandra nodded with a warm smile. "Yes, but only after all your lessons are done for the day. No sneaking out early."

"I promise!" Caitlyn replied eagerly, hugging her mother tightly before rushing off to her study to begin her lessons.

Tobias chuckled, watching Caitlyn rush off. "You’d think we just told her she won a lifetime supply of her favorite Dark Chocolate Truffles."

Cassandra raised an eyebrow playfully. "Remind the chef to stock more of them, dear."

Tobias leaned back in his chair, a teasing grin on his face. "Spoiling her, are we?"

Cassandra gave him a pointed look but softened as she spoke. "You are one to talk, Tobias . Last I checked, you were the one who let her stay up past her bedtime to eat those same truffles when she was just a tot because 'you couldn't say no to that face' . "

"Can you blame me, dear? She was the cutest baby, and now she's your spitting image"

Cassandra couldn’t deny either statement. Caitlyn had been the cutest baby—chubby cheeks and the perfect shade of blue eyes that wanted to see the world. Cassandra would dress her in the finest baby clothes and buy her anything she wanted from the toy store, even though Caitlyn took a liking to rifles and archery from a young age. And now, when she looked at her daughter, it felt like looking into a younger mirror.

"In all earnestness, Tobias, she hasn’t been this loving and doting in a long time. I feared I’d never see this delicate side of her again."

Tobias reached out, taking his wife’s hand and kissing it. "I suppose you’re right, my love." He sighed. "She’s grown up so quickly. There’s so much pressure on her to be perfect that she forgets she’s still so young. Maybe we need to give her a little more space and a bit more freedom. She’ll be more willing to come to us as she is now. We’ve both tried, in our own ways, to protect her and guide her from the danger and the realities of this cruel world..... but maybe...we let her make some decisions on her own."

Cassandra squeezed his hand, nodding slowly. "I suppose you have a point. I just want her to be happy and more than anything safe . And to know that, even when things get hard, we’ll be right here."

-

"You were out late last night," Mylo remarked casually.

"Huh?" Vi stopped mopping and glanced over at him. Mylo was cleaning the corners of the tables. Each of them had their assigned duties, which rotated regularly. Right now, Vi and Mylo were on cleanup duty. Claggor was helping Vander carry in new shipments, and Ekko was a permanent part of Benzo’s staff being, his adopted son did help snag the position.

Powder didn’t really have a set job, Vi always made sure to do enough chores for the both of them so her little sister could have more time to play and y'know .... be a kid . It was the least she could do as a big sister. Still, Powder wasn’t a lazy slug—she’d help out where she could, often scavenging for parts with Ekko for Benzo or their own projects.

"Vander got home way before you did," Mylo continued as he stopped his job to give Vi a suspicious look. "What gives?"

"It's nothing Mylo," Vi shot back, slightly annoyed because she knew Mylo wouldn't let it go, sometimes he was as needy as Powder and just like her he hated being left out .

"Someone’s pissy," Mylo teased, smirking as he returned to scrubbing."Are you at least gonna tell me what you were talking about?"

Vi shot Mylo a stern look , her voice flat as she replied, "Nope." She emphasized the "p" by popping it sharply before turning her attention back to mopping.

Mylo groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically but returning to his task. "Heyyy," Mylo started, his tone light like he was about to tell Vi the dumbest idea ever. "There's going to be this party in the entertainment district a ton of kids from the lanes are gonna be there. Wanna sneak out and go?" he just told Vi the dumbest idea ever.

She shot him a glare. "Mylo!"

"What?" Mylo shrugged innocently. "Claggor can come too if you're worried we'll get into trouble. And we can just let Powder work herself to the bone playing at the junkyard with Ekko. She won’t even throw a fit when we leave without her cause she'll be snoooring AND happy she got to spend the day with Little Man!"

Vi’s glare only deepened.

"Don’t give me that look Like we didn’t already sneak out" Mylo added, smirking.

Even back then, Vi knew this would come back to bite her in the ass. Mylo was lucky the night had been an absolute blast, and, miraculously, they hadn’t gotten into any trouble besides stumbling home a little drunk, but they didn't wake up Powder so they were in the clear, even though Vander found out later he kept it to himself.

"Come on, Vi. Let’s have some fun! We’ve been busting our asses working; we deserve a night out. Plus, the Chem Sisters are gonna play some sick beats—come on!" Mylo urged his sister but she just grumbled trying to focus on mopping

"Wait, who’s party is this?"

"Gert, ya know? The lead Chem Sister. You’ve met her before—she’s a badass," Mylo said, his enthusiasm bubbling over. "Killer makeup, black dreads but I think she's bleached them now for the party in a couple of weeks , she has this whole punk vibe going on. And don’t even get me started—"

"Enough, Mylo! I get it!" Vi cut him off, sharper than she intended.

She didn’t mean to snap at him, but hearing Gert’s name was like a punch to the gut. Gert —the same woman who had fought for Zaun’s freedom, the same woman who had died in front of Vi, her hand in Vi’s grasp the last touch she ever felt before passing away. It was just a casualty of war, just another name on a long list. Gert deserved better. She deserved a simple life, free to throw parties for the kids in the Lanes if that’s what she wanted. Who was Vi to protest?

"Remember what I said, Vi—it’s gonna be killer!" Mylo grinned, already imagining the chaos and fun.

"Yeah, yeah, I’ll think about it," Vi muttered. "Now get back to work before Vander tells us off."

"yeah, yeah whatever ...oh Vi?"

"What now?" she muttered, not bothering to look up.

"You missed a spot"

-

Caitlyn was probably the only kid who was buzzing to go to the Enforcer precinct but once she arrived she was filled with dread, she had spent countless days and nights, overworking herself to exhaustion. After hurting and leaving Vi , the sheriff's office became her self-imposed prison. She rarely left, throwing herself into work as if solving another case, or putting an end to Jinx would bring her mother back or would fill the guilt in her heart ... after what she did to the only woman she ever loved.

Ambessa had found her there once—a wreck of a person, emotionally unraveling, a mess, and sleep-deprived beyond reason and listened to her sob, not about her mother.....but about Losing Vi, the one that captured her heart. At the time, Caitlyn thought Ambessa’s suggestion to move her investigations into her mother’s old office was an act of care. She’d believed, foolishly, that someone was looking out for her, Caitlyn needed support she had nobody by her side but everyone looking up to her- Jayce was missing and her own father became absent from her life completely and moved back to Ionia because he could not take being in Piltover for another second.

But now, Caitlyn saw the truth. Ambessa’s suggestion wasn’t kindness—it was a calculated move, a ploy to tighten her grip on Caitlyn’s life. Caitlyn had opened the door for her without realizing it, giving Ambessa the opportunity to manipulate her further bit caitlyn could blame her enteily it was her own fault for listening to the poison being whispered in her ears - and she gassed the undercity way before Ambessa involvement in her life ...before she was commander Kiramman.

To top it all off Ambessa sent a Noxian spy in the form of Junior Officer Maddie Nolan into Caitlyn’s life, into her home, and into her bed. Caitlyn can at least thank herself that they only engaged in their affairs in the guest room, not tainting her bedroom or her mother's old office ...the walls she cherished so much. Caitlyn was dumb and desperate enough to fall for her lies her fake facade of kindness and that innocent face that could do no wrong. Maddie said whatever Caitlyn wanted to hear and did whatever Caitlyn wanted her to do— no matter how destructive , she planted lies into Caitlyn's head to make sure Caitlyn never doubted her loyalty or love   by saying "I will always follow you" "You are a great leader" "I will do whatever you want commander"

Words she wished Vi would say.

She wished Vi had stayed.

It made Caitlyn sick to think about it. She hated herself for how easily she had fallen into Ambessa’s web and for how she’d allowed herself to be controlled by revenge.

And Maddie. Caitlyn had used Maddie as an escape, a way to drown her guilt and grief in fleeting moments of mediocre physical distraction. she wasn't proud of how she dealt with her turmoil of emotions but even then, there were limits. She never let Maddie touch her, no matter how much Maddie begged, pleaded, and promised to "do a good job." Caitlyn didn’t want Maddie—not really , not ever. She only ever wanted Vi.

When she was with Maddie, she’d close her eyes and try to blur the lines, to pretend. She’d picture Vi’s freckles, her steel-blue eyes, her voice—anything to create something familiar, something she loved. But no matter how hard she tried, it never worked. Maddie was not Vi, and Caitlyn hated herself for even pretending otherwise.

Caitlyn hated herself for a long time and felt her body was tainted by what she had done with Maddie, while Vi was drowning herself in alcohol slowly killing herself.

The weight of everything bore down on her shoulders and Caitlyn felt hot tears in her eyes if she thought about what she had done to Vi for a second longer she would start sobbing. Caitlyn was done running from the past she needed to accept it and move past it so it would never happen again . If she was going to fix everything, if she was going to make things right, it had to start now.

....

Grayson’s absence in Caitlyn’s life had left an aching void It wasn’t just the loss of a mentor—it was a reminder of the dangers Caitlyn would face if she pursued her dream of becoming an Enforcer. Her mother had seized upon that fear, using it as a reason to pull Caitlyn away and force her into the Kiramman mold once again.

“If the Sheriff herself died on the job” her mother had argued countless times, “What would become of you? I don't want to lose my only child in her mindless pursuits!”

That sentiment had driven a wedge between them. Caitlyn understood that her mother’s intentions were only to protect her, but Caitlyn couldn’t allow herself to be sheltered anymore. The thought of living a safe easy life while people like Grayson sacrificed everything to uphold justice was unbearable. She had to honor Grayson’s legacy, no matter the cost.

The cause of Grayson’s death was wrapped in layers of secrecy, locked away by those who thought the truth too dangerous—or too damning—to reveal like Marcus. His name loomed like a shadow over every unanswered question, every piece of redacted evidence that exposed the corruption of enforces and more over the sheriff . Caitlyn knew he was involved; the slippery coward was too entrenched in Piltover’s corruption and worked side by side with Silco .

But Caitlyn was merciless. After weeks of digging through archives and putting together fragments of information—and finally, after speaking with Vi—she uncovered the truth. Silco. It had been him, along with one of his mindless, shimmer-induced lackeys. They had taken Grayson’s life in cold blood, a deal gone wrong as Marcus mentioned in personal dairy discovered after his death. An investigation was launched on the former sheriff led by of course Caitlyn Kiramman.

Vi had witnessed it all. The blood, the chaos, the horror. And just hours later, she was hauled off to Stillwater by Marcus as part of some sick deal he made with Silco.

The memory made Caitlyn’s blood boil.

"Good afternoon, Caitlyn," Grayson greeted warmly in her deep rough voice as she opened the doors to allow Caitlyn to come into the precinct, Grayson looked just the way she remembered she was truly a woman to be feared and admired . "Your mother mentioned you’d drop by. Are you here to help me with another cold case, or is it more target practice?"

Caitlyn shook her head, her jaw tightening. Normally, those words would bring her some joy; she had loved solving cases with Grayson and sharpening her marksmanship. She had detective instincts that even Vi playfully called her “superpower.” But this wasn’t about honing her skills or cracking a case.

"I want to be an Enforcer" Caitlyn stated firmly.

Grayson had a faint smile playing on her lips. "I’m well aware of that, young Kiramman."

"I want to change the corruption in Piltover...." Caitlyn swallowed the lump in her throat and continued "… and its treatment of the Undercity. "

That made Grayson pause. Her sharp eyes studied Caitlyn, her expression unreadable. " The Undercity ?" she echoed "Let's go into my office"

Caitlyn nodded and followed Grayson into her office, Grayson sat at her desk chair and Caitlyn sat at the opposite side of the desk, as she adjusted her posture to straighten it, and took a deep breath "Life in the Undercity is cruel, inhuman, and filled with hardships. It’s not fair that we live in comfort while so many down there struggle to survive."

Grayson’s lips pressed into a thin line. "That’s a big wish you’ve got, Caitlyn. What do you suppose we do about it?" Grayson said it so sarcastically like it was something you'd ask for when you blew out your candles on your birthday.

Caitlyn’s frustration flared. Of all people, she thought Grayson would understand her conviction. Instead, it felt like she was being dismissed, her words swept aside as the naive dreams of a privileged girl.

"First," Caitlyn began her voice sharper now, "we stop the brutality of the enforcers in the Lanes during Patrols, and unneeded searchers—the people of the undercity are being mishandled by those same enforcers who are chatting it up and drinking coffee in your station. We need stricter oversight, accountability, and consequences for abuse of power."

Grayson raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt, letting Caitlyn continue.

"And second, we need to start listening to the Undercity instead of suppressing their voices. People are dying—not just from the crime as many Piltovians like to believe, but from hunger, sickness, neglect, and the air itself! Enforcers can’t even go down there without gas masks and, in some cases, breathing tanks. How are the children of the Undercity supposed to survive?"

"The Kiramman ventilation system will be improved—and yes , I know about that and will make sure of it in the years to come. The people of the Undercity deserve so much more than just the basic human right to breathe air that isn’t the smog of the Gray! We can’t keep pretending they’re just problems to sweep under the rug. Piltover owes them more than that.”

Grayson rested her elbows on the desk, her hands clasped together as she considered Caitlyn’s words. For a long moment, the room was silent, save for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. Caitlyn began to sweat. Did I overdo it? Did I reveal too much? Will Grayson even take me seriously?

"You’ve thought this through." Grayson finally said, her tone unreadable.

"I have," Caitlyn replied, straightening herself out of habit.

Grayson said nothing, the silence stretching. Caitlyn, unable to bear it, finally broke it.

"Do you remember that shooting competition? The one where I accused you of taking my parents’ donations to let me win?"

Grayson chuckled, her serious demeanor cracking slightly. "I remember. You were furious with me."

"You asked me what I was shooting for," Caitlyn continued, her voice steady, her resolve unwavering. "This." She gestured around her. "This is what I’m shooting for, Sheriff Grayson."

Grayson’s gaze softened as she studied Caitlyn. Though she didn’t say it outright, the pride in her eyes was unmistakable.

"I don’t know what to tell you right now, Caitlyn" Grayson said, her expression shifting to something Caitlyn couldn’t quite place—sorrow? Dread? Regret?

"But your words don’t fall on deaf ears." She sighed heavily, her shoulders sagging as though carrying a weight too heavy to bear. "I’ve spent years trying to keep the peace between Piltover and the Undercity. I've tried negotiating with the Councilors but Councilors Salo and Hoskel, have always struck down my efforts and my position is being put on the line every time, something I am unwilling to give up, i do not want my head on the chopping board and shunned away like many before me. The city is lucky I have connections in the Lanes, or else..." Grayson trailed off, her words hanging in the air like a storm cloud.

"Your mother is a good woman, Caitlyn. Blinded by status and the vices of others, yes, but she’s the reason the ventilation systems in the Lanes still stand even after the first revolution on the bridge when you were still a child... She can very well destroy them—to weaponize the gas against them—but she doesn’t, I know she won't."

Caitlyn felt her heart sink into her stomach. The words coming from Grayson’s mouth sounded all too familiar.

The people of the undercity deserve to breathe .

Grayson continued, her tone quieter now as if the walls themselves might betray them. "Even Councilor Medarda, as young and idealistic as she is, fears war more than anything because of her motherland and the wars she witnessed there. She’ll do whatever it takes to avoid it. But even she neglects the Undercity. Their problems fester, Caitlyn. And they’ve been festering for far too long."

Caitlyn was meeting Grayson’s gaze head-on. Her voice was steady, but the intensity in her tone betrayed the storm swirling inside her.

“Enforcers hunt the people of the Undercity like animals sheriff as if it’s what they’re trained for—as if it’s what they’re paid for! There’s no excuse for what I’ve se—” Caitlyn caught herself, and quickly continued as if it was just a stutter. “What I’ve heard ... and from reviewing the records.” She mentally cursed herself for the near slip but pressed on. “This city needs healing. More than I ever realized.”

Her throat tightened as the words tumbled out, a lump forming as emotion threatened to overwhelm her. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to hold her ground. “Please, Grayson. This has to change. I’ll do everything in my power to help. Just... let me help.”

The room fell silent, the weight of her plea hanging in the air. Grayson’s expression remained unreadable as she leaned back in her chair, exhaling deeply.

“You’re still so young, Caitlyn,” she said finally , her voice heavy. “I’m afraid there isn’t much you can do directly... but your status—your name—can do far more than you realize. I trust you understand what I’m saying.”

Caitlyn did. Grayson wasn’t wrong. As the daughter of a prominent councilor and a family that had historically extended charity to the Undercity, Caitlyn held influence—leverage that could do so much. Her mind was already racing, forming a strategy. She’d need a plan, something airtight, to present first to her mother and, eventually, to the entire council.

Grayson continued. “I’m heading to the Undercity this evening. I’ll speak with the man in charge down there ... see where he stands on all of this. But don’t expect miracles, Caitlyn. Many in Piltover fear the rise of the Undercity. They feel unsafe at the mere thought of its independence or its people walking freely through our streets.”

At the mention of the Undercity—and the man in charge—a spark of lit in Caitlyn’s mind. The Hound of the Undercity was Vander! Vi’s father!

Without hesitation, Caitlyn stepped up from her set planted her hands on Grayson's desk with echoed in the room, and exclaimed. “I could come with!—”

“Not a chance, Kiramman,” Grayson cut her off, her tone firm. “I’m already playing fast and loose with the council by even entertaining these conversations with them and now with you. The last thing I need is your mother breathing down my neck.”

“But I need to see it, Grayson!” Caitlyn pleaded, her voice rising in desperation. “I need to understand what it’s truly like down there!”

Grayson’s sharp gaze fixed on her, unwavering. “Sounds like you already know enough,” she replied, her voice low and stern. “Especially since you’ve been snooping through classified files.”

Caitlyn stiffened, her heart skipping a beat. She felt a flush of guilt but forced herself to remain composed. At least her lies had been convincing enough to get this far. Lowering her eyes, she bit her lip to stop herself from retorting.

Grayson sighed, the weight of her words tempered by a trace of empathy. The tension in the room eased slightly. “Look, Caitlyn. Your passion isn’t misplaced. But this is a dangerous game you’re stepping into. You need to be smart about how you use your influence—and your voice.” She paused, her gaze softening just enough to show she cared. “Change takes time. And it’s not always easy.”

Caitlyn met her eyes again, her resolve hardening. “Understood, Sheriff.”

Grayson allowed a small smile to cross her face. “You’re going to do amazing things, Caitlyn. Frankly, I wish you were my deputy rather than that loose cannon.”

Caitlyn chuckled, the tension finally giving way to a lighter moment. “Care to crack some of those old cases Sheriff before I head home... and before you travel to the Lanes?”

Grayson smirked and stood from her desk, walking over to a metal filing cabinet. After rifling through its contents for a moment, she pulled out a thick file and slammed it onto the desk with a sense of finality.

“This,” she said, tapping the cover, “is the Malcolm Graves case.”

Chapter Text

Vander sighed, wiping down the last smudge on the bar top. The Last Drop was finally quiet, the echo of drunken laughter and clinking glasses faded away, and all his loyal customers had stumbled home,or were off to new ventures .Huck’s mess in the bathroom had been dealt with—a task he’d rather not remember— his kids were all asleep and he finally had a moment to himself, and now all he wanted was to finally clean up everything and grab a strong drink for himself.

The weight on his shoulders hadn’t eased.

It had been a while since his heated conversation with Vi, but her words still echoed in his head, as the memories of Silco kept flashing and pounding in his head. Vander rubbed his temple to sooth the ache and pain of all the memories resurfacing once again.

If Silco was truly developing some kind of techmaturgical drug to seize control of the Lanes, Vander knew he’d be Silco's first target.

He’d tried to reach out through letters and messengers—but Silco had given no response. Either the letters never made it to him or he simply didn’t care to reply. Vander couldn’t blame him. Not after what he’d done, to Silco after Felica's death, he didn't just lose his brother and a good friend that day he lost himself.

His hand slipped from his temple as he reached for the last glass on the counter, but just as he was about to place it back on the shelf, the sound of the front door swinging open cutting through the silence.

His gaze snapped up, and there she was.

Sheriff Grayson stood in the doorway, casted by the dim light of the Last Drop. She was fully geared up, gas mask and all, the glint of her sheriff badge was faintly visible as she walked towards Vander.

Vander didn’t miss the way her shoulders seemed to carry more than the weight of her equipment tonight.He paused mid-motion, glass in hand. The intention to shelve it faded as he set it down on the counter instead. The night wasn’t over—not with Grayson here.

“It’s past closing hours”

“I’m sure you can make an exception,” Grayson replied, her deep, rough voice carrying the faintest hint of amusement. She removed her gas mask with a hiss of released air, placing it on the bar top as she slid onto a stool.

“What can I get the sheriff this evening? Everclear? Devil Springs Vodka? Stroh 80?” Vander’s tone was light and playful , but his eyes watched her carefully, reading the tension in her posture.

“Whatever is the strongest” Grayson answered, waving a hand dismissively. She sounded tired—though, to be fair, so was Vander. Conversations between him and Grayson were rarely casual. They weren’t the kind to discuss mundane topics over a drink; their talks were always about business, about keeping the precarious 'peace' between the Lanes and Piltover.

Vander poured two glasses, sliding one across the counter to her. She picked it up and took a sip, her face twisting slightly at the burn of the strong liquor. She let out a sigh, setting the glass down with a soft clink.

“We need to talk,” she began, her voice losing any trace of humor.

“And here I thought you just came all the way down here for a drink,” Vander quipped, though there was no real bite to his words.

Grayson gave him an expression that ended this little game Vander was trying to play with her, his expression darkened, all amusement leaving his face. “What is it?”

“I have a prodigy,” Grayson began “They want to change the system of Piltover in favor of Zaun.” the words left Gray's mouth held more weight than the gauntlets that were hanging above them

Once used to work in the deep mines of the Undercity during the industrial era but as of more recent it could also be someone's final blow.

“Macrus? Your deputy?” Vander asked, his brow furrowed. He had seen the man in passing—Marcus was an egotistical, headstrong officer who viewed Piltover as superior to Zaun, a sentiment many Piltovians shared. But Marcus was also young and rash, often needing Grayson to keep him in line. She had made it clear he wasn’t to cause trouble in the Lanes or step into the Last Drop looking for information or even a fight. The idea of him spearheading some lavish reform of new laws seemed out of character and Vander’s confusion was evident.

Grayson let out a low, raw chuckle. “No, not him. He’s still too naive..” She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “I’m talking about a girl. Much younger than him. She’s still a child.”

“A child?” Vander was of course skeptical of whatever Grayson was about to say “And she’s going to change everything?”

Grayson gave Vander a sly smile, taking another slow sip of her drink before setting the glass down deliberately, letting the moment stretch to build anticipation. “She’s a Kiramman.”

Vander’s eyes shot wide open in surprise. “A Kiramman?” The weight of the name hit almost as hard as Vi's punches-and she was getting good at knocking grown men out with a singular punch.

The Kirammans were once a household name in the Lanes—highly admired for their work on the ventilation systems that kept the Grey at bay during the height of Zaun’s industrial boom and when its people were struggling to breathe. Back then, they were praised as they ensured clean air flowed through the undercity. But time had tarnished their legacy in the Lanes. Now, the Kirammans were just another filthy-rich family, seated comfortably on Piltover’s council who had forgotten their friends down below. The gratitude towards to Kirammans has long faded away, replaced by prayers to Janna, the goddess many credited with protecting them from the grey.

“She’s no ordinary Kiramman—she’s the Councilor’s daughter,” Grayson continued, her voice slicing through Vander’s thoughts. “She’s...different. She doesn’t see Zaun the way the rest of them do. I know her well, she’s not just talk. She has the mind to reshape the entire system and take charge. She isn’t one to back down easily.”

Vander leaned forward, his large hands braced on the counter. His sharp eyes searched Grayson’s face for any sign of uncertainty. “And you believe in this girl? That she’s going to topple the system? Something we’ve been fighting to do for decades?” it came out defenses Vander couldn't help it - a child was going to change the Lanes?

Grayson’s smile faded, her expression turning into her usual stern facade. “Of course not. I’ve made it crystal clear to her that this isn’t a battle that’s won overnight. It’ll take years—years of hard work and determination—before the Lanes see any meaningful change or when Piltover begins to accept that they won't have the undecity wrapped around their thumb. But mark my words, Vander—this girl...she’s beyond her years. She’s a Kiramman, yes, but not like the rest of them. She’s sharp and resourceful..... Vander she's so giving and kind she truly thinks the best of people call it naivety call it character..... " Grayson trailed off slightly embarrassed by how emotional she had gotten talking about Caitlyn but carried on "she’s a sharpshooter. An exceptional one.”

Vander raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “A sharpshooter that has a good heart?”

Grayson nodded, her lips curving into a small, proud smile. “She can outshoot me, Vander. Me. At her age. She’s  already been winning shooting competitions since she was five. Lord only knows when she first started wielding a rifle, her first one was probably made out of gold with the Kiramman symbol engraved into it with her initials" That earned a laugh out of Vander "but it’s her go-to. Most men—hell, even my enforcers—can’t match her agility and precision. She’s...special.”

There was a rare warmth in Grayson’s voice as she spoke, and Vander caught it. He knew Grayson wasn’t one to give out praise lightly. She leaned into her glass slightly, her expression softening as she continued. “Caitlyn’s not just a skilled marksman. She’s a problem solver. Just earlier, she helped me crack three cold cases in record time—and then beat all my men in target practice, just to rub it in.”

Vander chuckled, shaking his head. “Sounds like a force to be reckoned with.”

Grayson smirked, her pride evident. “Oh, she is. She’s one of a kind, Vander. I’ve never had a daughter, but Caitlyn...she’s as close as it gets. She’s got this fire in her, this drive. She’s going to be someone who changes the world—or dies trying.”

Vander regarded her carefully, the weight of her words settling between them he related to the words Grayson spoke a little too well. “If she’s half as good as you say, then maybe she’s exactly what we need. Someone who can bridge the gap between Piltover and the Lanes. But you know as well as I do, Grayson, that kind of fire? It can burn just as easily as it builds and the people of lanes aren't going to want to hear it from a topside princeess.”

Grayson nodded, her expression a careful balance before she took a deep breath. “And that’s exactly why I came to you. Maybe she needs a friend in the Lanes” she suggested, her tone playful. “Someone around her age, someone who hates the system just as much—if not more—than she does. Someone who knows the Lanes inside and out, who’s lived it, breathed it, and survived it firsthand.”

Grayson gave a small, knowing smirk before adding, “Maybe someone who once beat up an enforcer twice her size, leaving him bloody and blue with nothing but her fists?”

...

"Vi."

"Vi!"

"VI!"

Vi jolted awake with a sharp gasp, her heart racing as her groggy mind scrambled to process the situation. Before she could fully register what was happening, Powder’s face loomed over hers, wide-eyed and frantic.

“Vi, I need you to go to the bar and get my wind-up monkey!” Powder whisper exclaimed not wanting to wake up her brothers but needing to get across how serious the matter was, her words tumbling over each other in a panicked ramble.

Vi groaned, rubbing her eyes as the last remnants of sleep faded. Powder had gotten ridiculously attached to the new toy—it was a habit of hers to cling to anything that caught her interest. “Powder, can’t you just sleep with the bunny I gave you?” Vi mumbled, her voice heavy with exhaustion.

Powder tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. “What bunny?” she asked, blinking innocently.

Vi froze, her tired brain catching up to her words.

Shit

She hadn’t given Powder the bunny yet. That moment—the first time—hadn’t happened. Back then, she’d given Powder the bunny to hold on to, a comfort for what was to come when Vi turned herself over to the Enforcers. But now? None of that had happened. None of it needed to happen.

Powder’s big grey eyes, filled with confusion stared back at her, and Vi felt the weight of that trust settle heavily in her chest. With a sigh, she pushed herself off the bed, the cool air biting against her skin.

“I love you, Vi,” Powder said softly, her sincerity cutting through Vi’s sleep-deprived haze and warming her from the inside out.

Vi paused by the door, glancing back at her little sister with a smirk. “Love you too, Pow,” she replied, her voice carrying a warmth she didn’t bother to hide as she walked up to the bar.

...

Vi walked into the bar area, her eyes heavy with sleep as she scanned the tables for Powder’s wind-up monkey. The dim lighting and grogginess didn’t help, and she rubbed her eyes, trying to focus. She walked further in, stopping when a familiar voice called out.

“Sleepwalking again, kiddo?” Vander’s broad voice carried through the quiet room.

Vi turned to face him, surprised to see he wasn’t alone. Sitting across from him was Sheriff Grayson, Caitlyn’s mentor and someone Vi had heard plenty about. From what Caitlyn said, Grayson was a great woman. If Caitlyn trusted her which she did , Vi figured she could too.

But right now, she was too tired to muster respect or politeness. “Nah, looking for Powder’s monkey. Interrupting your little meeting?” she replied sarcastically, or maybe it was just her exhaustion talking.

Grayson smiled at her, amused. “Not at all. We were just talking about you.”

Vander reached under the bar and revealed the wind-up monkey, clearly having kept it safe there or.

“Only good things, I hope,” Vi mumbled through a yawn, walking up to them. Without hesitation, she pulled out a stool and plopped herself down next to Grayson.

Vander’s brows lifted slightly at her casual behavior. Vi wasn’t exactly known for her intelligence or politeness when she woke up—washing her mouth with rum instead of mouth water, walking into walls, or hitting Mylo in the face when he talked too much early in the morning—but casually sitting next to an enforcer? That was a first. Still, he decided not to comment. It was late, and he didn’t want to start anything.

“Only the best,” Grayson teased, though there was a knowing glint in her eye. “You’ve already made a name for yourself among the enforcers. Beating up grown man? At such a young age .I have to say, it’s impressive.”

“They had it coming,” Vi replied, her tone nonchalant.

She thought back to her younger days when fights with enforcers were a regular occurrence. Vi would throw punches and curses at anyone who got too handsy, often picking fights just to prove a point. Most of the time, they wouldn’t retaliate—not against a scrappy 14-year-old.

But as she got older, things changed. The enforcers stopped holding back, and their batons or rifles left bruises she couldn’t ignore. Vander had eventually made her stop, and more importantly, she’d stopped for Powder’s sake.

Once, on their way back from Benzo’s, they were shoved against a fence and searched by enforcers. The fear in Powder’s eyes haunted Vi for weeks to come. She’d swallowed her pride that day, doing whatever it took to keep her little sister safe. Encounters with enforcers became impossible to avoid, but now Vi buried her impulsive, reckless behavior for good. She wasn’t willing to lose everything again and If it meant rubbing shoulders with the leader of the enforcers, she’d do it. And if it meant forgiving and accepting Silco, once Vander made amends, she’d do that too.

"I'm sure they did, that's why many of them are off the force" Vi raised an eyebrow at Grayson since when did enforcers give a fuck about what they did in the lanes, then it clicked.

Caitlyn

That’s why Grayson was here. It had been a while since Vi had seen Caitlyn, and she knew she needed to make time for her soon. Life had gotten busy, and she was sure Caitlyn could say the same—especially if Grayson showing up here after hours was any hint that Caitlyn was busy debating with every influential figure she knew.

Vi shot Grayson a questioning look, then rolled her eyes and turned to Vander, not wanting to continue the conversation and Vander must have sensed it because he quiped up and said. “You thirsty? Sorry, kid, we’re all out of pink milk,”

Vander smirked,and Vi gave him a look that might have seemed dirty but carried no real animosity. Before he could respond, she grabbed the toy monkey from the bar and hopped off the stool.

“Night, Vi"

The tenderness in his voice made Vi pause for a moment. There was so much love and care in his tired eyes that it almost hurt to see. she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. Without another word, she turned and walked off toward her shared room. Vander’s gaze lingered, following her until she disappeared from his sight.

“She’s not as bad as everyone says,” Grayson remarked, breaking the silence.

“To be fair, she’s tired,” Vander chuckled lightly before saying in a serious tone. “And... she’s changing.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Grayson questioned

“I don’t know,” Vander admitted, his voice weighed down with apprehension. There were many things he didn’t know—things he hadn’t realized until it was too late. Raising four kids, especially two girls who seemed like polar opposites, was a constant lesson and a painful reminder of his relationship with Silco. Powder reminded him so much of her Felicia—the way she walked, talked, even danced. But in other ways, she was just like Silco, always tinkering with junk, her nose buried in a book, or sketching pictures of things she liked—mostly monkeys, sometimes Vi, and occasionally Ekko.

But Vi...

Vi was a mirror of himself, and that terrified him more than he cared to admit. Some nights, he wondered if he’d made her so angry. Was it his fault? He blamed himself for her parents’ deaths, for her obsession with boxing and gauntlets.

Before his thoughts could spiral further, Grayson interrupted.

“Everyone changes, Vander. You can’t expect her to stay the same. She’s still a kid. She’s got a lot of growing up to do... you just have to be by her side.”

Vander let out a breathy laugh. “Since when did you become such a motherly figure?”

“Longer than I ever realized,” Grayson replied with a small, knowing smile.

A moment or two passed as both their glasses were polished and placed back in their original spots. The quiet hung heavy in the air, wrapping around Vander like a suffocating blanket. The soft clink of glassware being set down was the only sound that punctuated the stillness. Grayson stood, ready to leave.

“I need help with something,” Vander said, his tone low, the kind of voice one uses when considering every word.

Grayson stopped mid-step and turned back to him, one eyebrow arching in curiosity. “What trouble have you gotten yourself into now?”

Vander let out a quiet, chuckle, but there was no humor in his eyes. He leaned heavily on the counter. “The past,” he said finally, his voice like a stone sinking into the water. “It’s haunting me.”

Saying it out loud felt like a gust of wind ripping through his chest, leaving him hollow and exposed. It wasn’t often Vander spoke of his regrets—they were usually buried beneath only known by the people who witnessed them.

Grayson’s sharp eyes fixed on him, narrowing slightly as if she could read the unspoken words hanging in the air. “Care to elaborate?” she asked, her voice soft but demanding, her usual commanding tone back.

Vander hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck, a gesture that betrayed the unease he felt. His hand dropped heavily to the counter as he finally spoke. “How much do you know about a drug that can… alter human biology turning them in beasts?”

Grayson’s face changed instantly. Her calm, composed exterior faltered, cracks forming in the façade she usually held so well. Her pupils shrank to plump, as though she saw a ghost.

Vander’s words hung in the air, a loaded gun neither of them wanted to fire.

“And,” Vander continued, his voice dropping to a near whisper now, “do you have any advice on how to stop your brother from causing a massacre with said drug?”

The weight of the question pressed down on the room Grayson’s lips parted slightly as if to respond, but no words came. Her silence was answer enough—

Vander leaned back, a wry, humorless chuckle escaping him. “Asking for a friend across the river, of course”