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Never Forget Me (Like I'm Your Favourite Song)

Summary:

Jayce is trying to piece together what had just happened. Moments before, he was floating in a shared consciousness with Viktor, gripping tight to the powerful rune, embracing destruction as they pressed their foreheads together. A satisfying ending, if he had to choose one after all the death and devastation they had endured.

So why is he breathing? And why is the grass blue?

———————

Jayce and Viktor are thrown into an alternate reality rather than being erased from existence. As both of them come to grips with their future, they reflect on the past and their relationship. They both want more from the other, but what will it take to cross that threshold in the aftermath of The Machine Herald?

Notes:

First of all, this was inspired by A New Knife by surveycorpsjean! It was the first fix-it fic I fell in love with and I wanted to write one of my own.

Full disclaimer: I know nothing about League of Legends, I've only watched Arcane twice, and I'm bad at science. Excuse any inaccuracies.

Note: This first chapter has some sexual content but this fic doesn't get really horny until chapter 3. The first two are finished, so the next one will go up next week, and the third will likely follow the week after that!

Also, this chapter switches between Jayce and Viktor's POV, however, it's heavily focused on Jayce (for reasons that make sense). Going forward, each chapter will stick to one perspective for the duration of the chapter.

Lastly, fic title comes from AM I DREAMING by Lil Nas X (feat. Miley Cyrus).

EDIT: I made a small change to this chapter, which was deleting one word, to fix a continuity error from chapter 5 (I know, way off).

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: Selfish

Chapter Text

Jayce feels like his body is being torn apart, dissected and then reassembled, repeatedly. Bright flashes of the Arcane anomaly light up within his blurred vision, and when he screams it’s as though a thousand copies of himself scream in unison. It feels like an eternity and a millisecond all at once before…

He wakes up. 

His cheek is damp from morning dew on the blades of grass he’s lying on. He groans, blinking rapidly as the early morning sun blares in his eyes, and pulls himself up to his hands and knees. His whole body aches, especially his leg still fastened in his brace. 

Jayce is trying to piece together what had just happened. Moments before, he was floating in a shared consciousness with Viktor, gripping tight to the powerful rune, embracing destruction as they pressed their foreheads together. A satisfying ending, if he had to choose one after all the death and devastation they had endured.

So why is he breathing? And why is the grass blue?

Jayce lifts his head, surveying his surroundings. He’s in a forest clearing, surrounded by baby blue pines, pink moss and white, yellow-spotted wild flowers. It takes him mere moments to notice the figure lying in the overgrown grass only ten feet from him. A figure with long brown hair and a blue cloak.

He rushes over, turning the figure on their back, their head rolling to the side limply, and he inhales sharply as his suspicions are confirmed: Viktor. The Machine Herald was no more, it was his Viktor. Beautiful, miraculous Viktor with all his moles and smile lines, the eerie mask now absent. 

At least… mostly. Brief flashes of steel and flesh peek out from underneath the robe. But that doesn’t matter right now.

“Viktor?” Jayce calls in a hushed voice, as though he is scared he will shatter this reality with a single sound. He holds his breath.

No response.

“No,” Jayce mutters. “No, no, no, tell me you’re not—” Before he allows the panic to build any further, he presses two fingers to Viktor’s pulse point on his neck. 

A heartbeat. Steady, alive, impossible and beautiful.

“Fuck, Viktor, you’re—” Jayce tries to hold back the emotion in his voice. His heart rejoices. Viktor is alive. However, his brain is… well, it’s apprehensive. 

Was he still Viktor?

He shakes Viktor’s shoulder, trying to prompt him to wake. Jayce watches, patiently, expecting to see Viktor’s enchanting gold eyes flutter open and look up at him with the same surprise, and maybe even joy.

But he doesn’t. Viktor remains unresponsive, not even shifting from Jayce’s shaking. His heart sinks. However, he can’t let his tumultuous emotions get the better of him. After weeks in that ravine, months traversing the future they created, Jayce knows how to school his feelings and go into survival mode. 

He takes a more thorough look at their surroundings, spotting a river beyond the pines. “Water means settlements,” Jayce says to himself. Without a second thought, and only the clothes on their backs, Jayce scoops Viktor’s lithe form into his arms and begins making the trek upstream. His leg aches with each step, despite Viktor practically weighing nothing, but there is no way in hell he’s leaving Viktor behind.

It doesn’t matter if they were in hell, or paradise, or another reality. All that Jayce cares about is that he has his best friend back. That’s all that matters.

His eyes flicker down to Viktor, unconscious in his arms. Without his companionship, his witty remarks and insightful opinions, Jayce’s thoughts wander to the past.

 


 

It’s stupid. Jayce doesn’t realize it at the time, but he very obviously has a crush on Viktor. Cait knows it. Their assistants know it. Even Heimerdinger knows it.

Jayce doesn’t know it, somehow. And he has no idea if Viktor knew.

They are celebrating a breakthrough, high off the adrenaline of figuring out how to put safety measures on the Hexgates and finalizing their design. It’s four in the morning and Viktor pulls out a bottle of whiskey that he was hiding in the bottom drawer of his desk.

“Wait, how long have you had that in there?” Jayce chuckles, thinking they would have had to go to his apartment for that celebratory drink. “I didn’t think you’d keep booze in your desk.” 

“I bought it the day we started working on the Hexgates, for this very reason,” Viktor smirks, amused. “You think I’m… what was it that my Academy roommate called me? ‘Straight-edge and uptight’?”

“Well, no, I don’t think that about you. I just expect you to be… professional?” Jayce smiles nervously, as he always does when he’s uncertain if he’s insulting Viktor or if it’s light banter.

“I think,” Viktor starts, grabbing two paper cups hidden in his drawer before rolling his chair over to Jayce’s desk only a few feet away. “A good bottle of whiskey is merely a perk of professional success.” 

Viktor cracks open the bottle and pours a generous amount of liquor into each cup. Jayce doesn’t realize he’s watching Viktor’s hands carefully—hands he’s watched deftly take apart and put together all kinds of projects. He has always been fascinated with Viktor’s skilled hands, for no particular reason. 

“Apologies that I don’t have proper glasses, unless you would like to make the journey to the kitchen. I don’t know if you’re above paper cups,” Viktor says teasingly, picking up his cup as he assumes Jayce is not going to get up.

“Are you kidding? I live on paper cups and plates. I don’t have time for dishes.”

Viktor and Jayce share a laugh before Jayce picks up his cup and raises it to cheers. “To progress.”

“To us,” Viktor says in response, and Jayce likes the sound of that. Us.

Their cups make a soft tap sound as they bump them together, both taking a deep drink.

It was supposed to be one, but… it quickly turns into four.

“You know, I’ve never asked you,” Jayce brazenly says as he leans back in his chair, nursing his fifth. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

Viktor chokes on his whiskey, going into a coughing fit. Jayce sits up and almost panics,almost, patting Viktor’s back as he recovers. It wasn’t actually a cause for concern though… not at that point.

“I… well, no,” Viktor finally says, averting his eyes.

“Oh…” Jayce pauses, leaning back in his chair. “Boyfriend?”

Viktor lets out a laugh. If they weren’t drunk, Jayce would maybe say it was a nervous laugh, but Viktor is never nervous or it never shows. “No, I am… in a committed relationship with my work.”

Jayce hums in thought. He understands the difficulty of balancing the kind of work they do with a relationship. It’s not an easy feat. But Viktor is… well, Viktor. How could he not have people fawning over him? “There’s gotta be, y’know, someone that’s caught your eye.”

Viktor goes quiet, his cheeks pink from the booze (Jayce assumes), as he rolls his cup back and forth on an angle, the liquid sloshing inside. His eyes don’t meet Jayce’s. “There is someone but… we are from very different worlds. It’s just not feasible. Besides, I am perfectly content by myself.”

“What do you mean you’re from different worlds?” Jayce asks naively, speaking before the information is fully processed. “What, like someone from Piltover?”

Viktor’s golden eyes flicker up to Jayce’s before he downs his fifth cup of whiskey. Even drunk, Viktor is an intimidating man, which makes heat stir in Jayce’s gut—a feeling he can’t quite place. Maybe it’s the alcohol and the fact that they had dinner (corner store sandwiches) eight hours ago. 

“Yes, you guessed correctly.” Viktor’s voice gives nothing away.

“Oh, c’mon, that doesn’t matter. We all bleed, we’re all made of meat—there’s not much of a difference between you and I.”

Viktor is quiet again, grabbing the half-empty bottle of whiskey and taking a sip from it. Seeing Viktor so loose is mind-blowing to Jayce at this point, even after working together for the last two years.

“You might say that,” Viktor starts, drumming his fingers on the bottle that he now has resting on his chest. “But not everyone wants a man like this—“ He gestures to his bad leg. “And from the poorest recesses of the Undercity. I’m not exactly an eligible bachelor.”

Jayce gapes at Viktor before slurring his words slightly. “What? What are you talking about? You’re literally the most brilliant mind in all of Piltover—even more than me, though my ego hates to admit it—how could you not be desirable?”

Viktor sits and just… watches Jayce, like he’s trying to decipher a puzzle that he almost has the answer to but he can’t quite put together. It’s the same look he gets when he’s trying to find the solution to any Hextech hiccup they encounter. He looks intense and intrigued, as though he’s challenging Jayce in some way… or sizing him up.

“I don’t think this particular person would be interested.” Viktor says it with finality before taking another swig from the bottle. Then, he looks back at Jayce, replacing that intense look from moments before with a small smirk. “What about you, golden boy?"

Jayce flushes at the way Viktor says it like he’s mocking him. Viktor has liked to tease him, ever since Jayce became the face of Hextech while his partner preferred to tinker in the shadows. “Well, I… haven’t really been with anyone since I started working on Hextech. I have been, as you said, in a committed relationship with my work.”

Viktor raises a single brow before murmuring, “A waste,” as he sips at the bottle again.

Jayce just laughs, not reading into it. A comfortable silence falls on them as Jayce finishes his drink. 

And that fifth drink gives him a crazy idea.

“Okay, let’s do this,” Jayce says with a grin, his face flushed from the heat of the alcohol and giddiness he feels. “If, by the time we’re forty, we’re both still committed to our work and not with anyone, let’s just get married!”

Viktor stares at him. Stares at him for a very long moment. But then, he throws back his head and lets out a bark of laughter—uncontrollable, jovial laughter. He laughs until his stomach hurts, presumably from the way he clutches it. The sound is… addictive, that’s the only way Jayce can describe it. “Jay-Jayce, you’re hilarious.”

“I’m not being funny, I’m serious, man!” Jayce stands from his chair, boldly grabbing the bottle from Viktor and taking a deep swig. It burns his throat, but he doesn’t care, he’s getting drunk with his best friend and making up a crazy scheme. He feels like he’s in his element. 

He points at Viktor. “Think about it. We get a cute house and we have a lab at home so we never have to leave! Because I know you would live in the lab if you could. We could invent and change the world from the comfort of our home until we’re old and gray.”

Jayce takes another drink, the gears turning in his dizzy head. “And, we could get a dog. Plus, there’s tax benefits.” Another drink. “Did I mention I’m good in bed?”

Viktor is looking at him with… something. It’s a look that makes Jayce stop in his tracks. As he watches the small smile and gentle eyes fixate on him, he realizes: fondness. Viktor is fond of him. Well, of course, he would be. They’re best friends—partners—after all. But, Jayce gets lost in that warmth in Viktor’s golden gaze. 

He wishes Viktor would look at him like that all the time.

“A cat,” Viktor says plainly, breaking the silence.

“What?” Jayce blinks.

“I don’t like dogs—too energetic and high-maintenance. I’m only willing to get a cat. Maybe two.”

Jayce breaks into a wide smile, pumping his fist in triumph. “Yes! We’re so getting married. You’re gonna loooove it. I’ll be such a good hushband,” he slurs his words in excitement and… well, he’s incredibly drunk. He hasn’t gotten this drunk since freshman year.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Viktor chuckles softly, clearly holding his liquor a little better than Jayce. He grabs his cane and stands, approaching Jayce to take the whiskey bottle from him. “I think it’s time we go home.” 

“Your eyes are pretty,” Jayce blurts out, staring at Viktor as though he’s hypnotized by the very eyes he’s complimenting. Maybe he is. They’re stunning, really.

“And you’re drunk,” Viktor says, rolling those gorgeous gold eyes of his, taking the bottle and setting it back down on Jayce’s desk.

Jayce is suddenly acutely aware of where Viktor’s fingers had brushed his while retrieving the bottle. His skin feels warm but… that’s the alcohol’s doing, is it not? 

“Come on, Talis,” Viktor says, that same fondness Jayce had seen earlier reaching his voice. He grabs Jayce by the arm and drags him out of the lab. 

They walk—Jayce stumbling every so often and Viktor holding on to Jayce’s 

arm for both their sakes—through the quiet halls of the Academy, knowing it’s too early for students and professors to be pouring in yet. As they pass one of the grand windows, Jayce catches something in the distance. “Vik, look.”

Viktor stops, looking back at what Jayce is staring at. The sky is painted in pink and purple hues as the sun slowly rises above the horizon line. He joins him silently at the window to admire the view.

“Been a while since we’ve seen a sunrise,” Jayce comments, putting a hand casually on Viktor’s shoulder. “Beautiful, huh?”

Viktor glances up at Jayce, but Jayce doesn’t look back, too fixated on the landscape. “Beautiful,” Viktor says quietly before turning to stare out the window.

Neither of them make it back to the lab that day, nursing the worst hangovers of recent memory.

Neither of them brings up their pact.

 



Forty. Jayce remembers counting each birthday. Twenty-eight. Twenty-nine. Thirty. Thirty-one. 

Thirty-two.

He stopped at thirty-two, after Viktor’s lungs started to give up on him. The thought tugs at his heart, reminding himself that… at least, for now, Viktor seems to not be dying.

Maybe he’ll make it to forty after all if they’re not already dead and in some timeless limbo.

Jayce sets Viktor down, sitting him up against a tree, as he takes a break. The sun is at high noon now, and the heat is beating down on his back. His leg has started to cramp too, which has left him limping for the last half hour. 

He strips himself of his jacket, letting his arms breathe, as he kneels at the riverbank to splash cool water on his face. 

Jayce was a vain man once upon a time, but ever since his… experience with touching the Arcane, those things matter less to him. It’s out of habit that he glances at his reflection in the water, only now noticing the four divots in his forehead. 

“The Herald,” Jayce mutters, touching them gingerly. They don’t hurt now, but it certainly hurt like hell getting them. He glances over his shoulder at Viktor, still unresponsive against the trunk of what looks like an oak with a rainbow of leaves. Jayce sighs, turning back to the water to continue cooling down.

He doesn’t break for longer than fifteen minutes. Jayce knows that, if he stops now, he won’t be able to continue. He’ll suffer for it tomorrow, but hopefully they can find shelter before then. 

The sun passes high noon and, if Jayce has to guess, he’s been walking for at least two hours since his short break. Viktor isn’t heavy and has become a comforting weight in Jayce’s arms, curled against his chest. The silence, with the exception of birds, bugs, Viktor’s soft breaths and his own exertion, starts to grate on him though.

So, he talks.

“I can’t wait until you wake up,” Jayce starts, speaking quietly enough that his voice doesn’t carry far. “I’m sure you’re going to have a great time cataloguing all the flora and fauna here. We could name them. I know you’ll want to come up with a naming convention, like genuses and families, but I think Steve is a great name for a bird, don’t you think?”

Jayce chuckles at his own joke, picturing Viktor rolling his eyes in that fond way he does when he pretends to be annoyed with him. He glances down at his partner’s face, showing no reaction. 

“I miss you,” he admits, looking ahead again as he navigates the stretch of forest. “No, I have been missing you for a long time. Before the Herald. Before the Hexcore. Before I became Councilor Talis—” He spits out his former title with disdain. “Things were so much simpler when it was just the two of us in that lab. If only we had focused on… anything but magic.”

Jayce turns his wrist slightly to see the scar where the rune had been. If he has learned anything in the past year of his life, it would be that time is a circle and the Arcane is not something to toy with. He only wishes he had known that before an eager and bright-eyed version of him pursued the Arcane, and dragged Viktor down with him.

Jayce feels a raindrop hit his shoulder. He curses and tries to pick up the pace, his leg screaming in agony. The tree canopy at least provides some coverage as it begins to pour, but Jayce stops briefly, resting Viktor against another rainbow oak. “Rainboak?” Jayce suggests aloud to his partner, nodding at the tree as he takes off his jacket again. “Maybe too on the nose.” 

He covers Viktor’s unconscious form with his jacket, trying to protect him from the downpour as much as possible, as he limps through the forest as fast as he can. Jayce doesn’t believe in any gods, but if he did, he’d be praying for a respite—a town, a camp, anything.

His non-existent prayers are answered when he spots a building among the trees. He lets out a sigh of relief, but anxiety replaces his exhaustion. He knows nothing of this… reality? He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to communicate with anyone or if they will be friendly. But, the rain continues to beat down on them, soaking his undershirt and hair as he tries to shelter Viktor from it. He’s willing to take the risk.

“We’re almost there,” Jayce says, out of breath, as he looks down at Viktor’s emotionless face. “I’m going to keep you safe.”

 


 

Viktor looks… serene, Jayce thinks. The most at peace he’s ever seen before, and it makes his heart feel hollow.

The encasing of pure Arcane energy the Hexcore created around his partner shimmers and shifts in iridescent blues and pinks, mocking Jayce. The only thing worse than Viktor being stuck in an indefinite coma was Jayce not yet knowing the consequences of his selfish actions. He did this to Viktor. All because he couldn’t live without his partner.

“I’m sorry…” Jayce murmurs, his chest tightening with guilt and regret. “I… I did this because I wanted more time to… more time for us.” 

Jayce had been wrestling with his affections for longer than he had been aware. He meant to tell Viktor, but he couldn’t find the courage. Jayce was smart and charismatic, a famed scientist and councilman, and yet his greatest fear was rejection. Pathetic.

“I don’t know when it started, maybe it was the moment you talked me off of that ledge,” Jayce whispers, staring at the floor, knowing Viktor probably can’t hear him within his Arcane cocoon. “Maybe it was that first smile you gave me when you cracked the mystery of Hextech. Or maybe it was the late nights we spent, bouncing ideas back and forth like… like we were two pieces of a whole.”

Jayce lifts his head, staring up at the face of the man that he… that he loves. More than anything. That he would willingly die for. His hazel eyes trace Viktor’s sharp cheekbones, the moles dotting his face, and his enticing Cupid’s bow. 

He wonders if he will get the chance to kiss him. 

His eyes begin to water. “I wish you were awake to tell me how much of an idiot I’ve been. Not destroying the Hexcore. Not telling you… not telling you how much I adore you.”

Jayce thinks he sees Viktor’s brow twitch and he holds his breath, standing with such urgency that he knocks his chair over. He rushes over to the cocoon, studying Viktor’s face for any other sign of consciousness. “Please, Vik…” Jayce breathes with shaky heaves, waiting, waiting… nothing. All the panicked tension in his body deflates, disappointed that it was either an unconscious movement or his imagination. 

Jayce doesn’t move. He stands in front of Viktor, memorizing every inch of his handsome face. He tentatively reaches up, uncertain if he is crossing a line… but he is a selfish man, after all. His knuckle brushes over Viktor’s cheek, tender and slow but a barely-there touch. “Please, Viktor. Please come back to me. You don’t know how much I… I need you.”

Jayce is met with stillness and nothing but the quiet whirring of the lab equipment. He retracts his hand, moving back to the lab bench and is unable to look at Viktor again that night.

He would continue to sit and stare, talk to him even though he doesn’t respond, and sleep next to his suspended form for days. 

If Jayce has anything left, it’s hope. Hope he can hear Viktor’s mellow voice again, thick with the accent that Jayce always found so endearing. 

But hope dwindles with each day. 

He doesn’t know how much hope he has left.

 



Jayce’s mind can’t help but linger on the memory of Viktor suspended within the Hexcore’s prison—the prison that warped Viktor’s body into a new lifeform of metal and flesh. 

Some of Viktor’s original body has returned after the anomaly spat them out in this (assumed) alternative reality. The cabin (more like a shack) that Jayce managed to find abandoned smells of cobwebs and damp earth. Convenient, really—maybe the universe was on their side for a change. He had laid Viktor down on a bed that was just barely still intact, where he lay with his chest—human flesh, for the most part—rising and falling with his breath. 

“At least you’re alive,” Jayce murmurs from the rickety chair at Viktor’s bedside. It’s hardly a comfort though. The last time he brought Viktor back from the brink, he became… he didn’t want to think about it.

His gaze travels to Viktor’s left arm and right leg. They were still how he looked when he emerged from his slumber within the Hexcore. But, the human flesh that he miraculously recovered when the Arcane… what rebuilt him? It gives Jayce hope that the Hexcore’s influence that birthed the Machine Herald is gone.

He won’t know until Viktor awakens though. The anticipation forms a nervous knot in his stomach. 

At thirty-two years old, there are very few things that make Jayce Talis nervous, but Viktor is one of them. He thought he would grow out of it when he first found himself fumbling over his words when they began their partnership. There was always an intense, intimidating air about the other scientist. He rarely veered from his stony facade at first, but as the stone began to crack and Viktor’s true personality started to show, Jayce was still nervous.

Jayce didn’t get it at first. Viktor opened up to him after tireless months and years working together. He’s witty, kind, and of course, Jayce can’t forget, a fucking genius. Viktor’s mind slotted perfectly in the crevices of Jayce’s own. They were so in sync that it scared Jayce. But why was he still nervous around Viktor?

He knew why the moment he realized his true feelings. It had been during the agonizing hours of waiting for Viktor to wake up after he collapsed. When Jayce had learned of his illness, he mentally beat himself for not being there. He should have been in the lab instead of warming Mel’s bed. 

Guilt had pounded in Jayce’s chest like a hammer and a voice somewhere in the recesses of his mind spoke up. Viktor can’t die. He doesn’t know how loved he is, the voice whispered. It was his own voice, but the thought came from a deep part of him he hadn’t been able to face. 

He was hopelessly, irrevocably in love with Viktor—his Viktor.

The memory was painful. Jayce sits in the creaky chair, shifting to try to get comfortable while he watches over Viktor. He ruminates on the memory, regret sitting in his gut. It shouldn’t have taken him six years to realize his feelings and he only realized them when Viktor was dying. There was so much wasted time, so much time that could have gone… differently. 

Had they not created the Hexcore, had Jayce admitted his feelings sooner and confronted Viktor with them... Had Viktor reciprocated… what? How was Jayce hoping he could change the past? To spend those six years loving Viktor until his final breath?

The memory of the Machine Herald—because that was not Viktor, that was something that ate Viktor alive—made his heart ache. His heart has been aching since the moment he realized what their future looked like and what he had to do.

He looks down at his hands, flexing them, imagining the weight of his hammer in them. Killing Viktor—no, not Viktor, the Herald that wore Viktor’s face—was the hardest thing he had ever done. Harder than climbing out of that damned ravine with a healing broken leg. He had to emotionally and mentally separate Viktor from that pursuit of evolution in order to pull the trigger. 

Even still, a large part of him died with whatever had been left of Viktor.

Jayce’s head lifts, looking at his partner. He has that same serene expression he had when he was being reformed by the Hexcore. 

Maybe this is a second chance for them. Maybe Viktor is here, and the Herald has been cleansed from his body and psyche. 

Jayce has to hope. It’s all he can do.

“I know you’re in there, V,” Jayce says in a hushed voice. He hesitates but decides to brush a lock of Viktor’s long brunette hair from his face, continuing the brief contact by stroking the crown of his head. 

Jayce is starved for Viktor’s touch and he’s a selfish man. 

“Come back to me.”

 


 

Viktor’s consciousness fades in and out for an undetermined amount of time. He doesn’t know what’s real, what’s a dream, or what’s the Arcane tearing him apart from the inside out. 

The last thing he can remember is… Jayce. Jayce. Jayce sacrificing everything to save him. To die with him.

After everything he did, after all the pain and suffering he caused, Jayce still died in his grasp, with him— for him.

He floats, with no corporeal form, in a sea of endless black. The darkness shimmers with blues, pinks, greens—all the colours of the Arcane’s time and space distortions. Explosions of colour bloom and die in the distance, like stars in an alien abyss. 

Viktor can still see all of their faces. Every person he ‘healed’ or ‘evolved’ lives in his consciousness somewhere. His mind feels full, even fuller than spending two days rattling out equation after equation with Jayce. Their final thoughts, their most precious memories, they were all there. 

Daniella. Forty-six. Became addicted to Shimmer after losing her daughter to the same illness that had afflicted Victor. She had asked him if he could bring her baby back to her. Viktor had to console her when he explained that he couldn’t.

Muskrat. Sixteen. Lost his parents in the riots many, many years ago and had been living on the streets since. Just like Daniella, he wished to see his parents again and Viktor had to deliver the news that he couldn’t raise the dead, only ‘save’ the living.

They worshipped him. A fake healer. A false prophet. A power-hungry tyrant.

He doesn’t know if he has the will or strength to face his atrocities just yet, so he smothers the thoughts before he starts to spiral.

Come back to me.

Jayce’s voice echoes in his mind like a beacon of light in the dark chasm. He tries calling for Jayce, desperate for his name to leave his lips, to reach out to him—but nothing comes out. He has no body. He has no mouth. All he can do is linger in the timeless dimension, by himself, hoping to hear Jayce’s voice again.

Is he here too? Did I destroy Jayce and exile him to a prison of darkness?

If Jayce was with him, the void would be bearable. 

Usually, when left to his own thoughts, he outlines schematics or solves equations he had been working on, all within the chaos of his rapidly cycling mind. Viktor isn’t one to linger on the past or what-ifs—hypotheticals are a waste of time. But, in the endless pit he’s in, hypotheticals feel like… comforts. Coping mechanisms. Imagining what could have been feels better than torturing himself with what he’s done.

Viktor wonders what it would have been like to love Jayce, not from his shadow.

He fell in love with Jayce’s mind first. It didn’t take much. He had barely seen Heimerdinger’s pupil before reading the journal of Jayce’s vision. While Viktor thought signing all his notes was egotistical, it also made him see how… eager Jayce was. Eager for change. Eager for recognition. Eager to be an innovator. It was endearing.

What started as an infatuation with a brilliant mind turned into something more than what he was expecting. He didn’t imagine that a night of adrenaline, discovery and creation, would lead him to find the one person who slotted perfectly against Viktor’s madness, like a key unlocking a door long forgotten. The one person in Piltover or Zaun. In Valoran. In their reality and the next.

The one person that made him feel not so lonely anymore.

It didn’t take long for him to realize he was smitten with the Academy’s golden boy. It was hard not to fall for the charm, the smarts, and… well, he wasn’t hard on the eyes either (understatement). But, Viktor knows if something is unattainable when he sees it. No matter how much his feelings deepened with every failed experiment, every exhilarating brainstorm, and every crushing hug after a breakthrough, Viktor knew he was tormenting himself.

He tried to let go, especially after Jayce became a councilor. His object of affection became untouchable as he flew closer to the sun, and Viktor watched from their dim lab, hoping Jayce didn’t get burned. 

He doesn’t remember anything from when he was entrapped by the Hexcore, merging with it over the course of an unknown length of time. He never asked Jayce, nor did he care in his new… hollowness. Viktor was a new man, reborn, seeking a new purpose and leaving his old life behind. All driven by the Hexcore.

It was affection that kept us together. The words echo in the abyss as he recalls their parting conversation, before… before

The Hexcore killed his love for Jayce. Well, almost. He didn’t blame Jayce for killing him, though it sparked a newfound coldness and determination as the Herald that Viktor didn’t know he was capable of—or maybe never was without the Hexcore.

It almost killed his love for Jayce. But he can feel it, everywhere where his consciousness expands. His entire being, whatever is left of it, adores his former partner, and he will until he burns out like a star, or whatever he can assume will happen to him from here on out.

Is this death? Is the Arcane the other side of the threshold of life? Whatever it is, he can feel him returning to himself. 

He is free of the Hexcore. 

He is free to love Jayce in the endless abyss, for an eternity. The image of their final moments together within their shared consciousness burns into his mind. Jayce’s long hair, his beard, his tired hazel eyes… and the four burning blue scars on his forehead.

After everything Viktor did, Jayce stayed. And now… he’s gone.

I miss you.

 



“I miss you…”

Jayce freezes.

It’s been at least a week (he lost the exact count of the days) since they arrived and Viktor has remained in a silent slumber the whole time.

Silent. Until now.

The words are barely audible. If Jayce hadn’t been in the process of cleaning the decrepit bedroom to make it more homey for when Viktor wakes up—because he will—he would have missed it.

“Viktor?” Jayce drops the moth-eaten rag he’s been washing the floor with and rushes to his partner’s side, kneeling next to the bed. “Vik, it’s Jayce, can you hear me?”

Viktor’s brows pinch, as though he’s struggling or trying to calculate a particularly difficult equation. His right arm, the one that has been restored to human flesh, twitches and Jayce reaches for it impulsively, squeezing his fingers that are cool to the touch. 

“Jayce,” Viktor barely murmurs. At first, Jayce isn’t even sure if it is his name that he had mumbled, but he replays it in his mind until he’s certain.

“I’m here, V. I’m not going anywhere.”

Before he can stop himself, his hand finds its way into Viktor’s hair again, combing his fingers through the long tresses. There is an absent-minded thought that Viktor looks good with long hair; it suits him. However, the present part of his mind is fixated on Viktor’s consciousness.

“Vik?”

Just as soon as it came, Viktor is gone, silent once again.

 



Viktor has always fit the stereotype of a ‘mad scientist’. He talks to himself, his mouth can run a mile a minute (with Jayce, because he’s the only one who can keep up), and he has done some… questionable experiments in the past. Nothing like Singed, at least he likes to believe, but maybe they were not so much different in the end.

However, Viktor has never known madness like this.

His consciousness comes and goes in waves, like he’s being guided by a violent current. Sometimes his awareness lasts seconds. Sometimes, it feels like months, though it could very well be minutes for all he knows. In the abyss, nothing feels real. All he can do is… dream.

It always starts with a memory. One of his fondest memories is the night they got drunk in the lab, early in the morning, just the two of them joking and celebrating. It had been a tense night too, for him at least. 

There were so many times he wanted to smack some sense into Jayce that night. His partner doesn’t realize it, but get enough alcohol in him and Jayce turns into a flirt. He does it with everyone. So Viktor isn’t special when Jayce starts to ask him if he has a girlfriend—he was also oblivious to the fact that Viktor is gay—or tells him he has pretty eyes.

Then there’s that stupid pact Jayce came up with, the one that Viktor only entertained because he wants to live in that fantasy and he doubted he’d make it to forty anyway.

But Viktor replays the night in his mind. What if he had done it differently? What if he hadn’t been so clouded by his own lack of self-worth that he couldn’t fathom a man as handsome, smart and perfect as Jayce Talis returning his feelings?

If Viktor is going to spend the rest of his existence in a pitch-black void, he’s going to have a maladaptive daydream or two. 

“Your eyes are pretty,” Jayce blurts out, staring at Viktor as though he’s hypnotized by the very eyes he’s complimenting.

Viktor boldly grabs the bottle of whiskey from Jayce’s hand, taking a swig to fuel his courage for what he’s about to say. “And I think you’d look pretty on your knees.”

Jayce’s cheeks bloom a bright red flush and Viktor knows it’s not from the alcohol. He can see the gears moving behind his partner’s eyes, trying to process what Viktor just said. His mouth is even slightly agape. It’s cute.

Viktor’s thin lips tug into a smirk, his eyes half-hooded as he takes hold of Jayce’s loose tie, while still gripping the whiskey bottle, and pulls him closer. “Stop gawking and kiss me already, idiot.”

Both the bottle and his cane drop to the floor as Jayce surges forward, enveloping Viktor in his arms. He’s surprised the bottle didn’t break, just splashed the golden liquor everywhere, but it’s only half a thought because his mind is preoccupied. Their lips meet with a desperate need that only a build-up of lust, years of pining and alcohol could produce. It takes Viktor’s breath away.

Jayce kisses like a starving man, licking into Viktor’s mouth with a messy sense of coordination, while holding him by the small of his back. His other hand combs through Viktor’s short curls, cradling his skull like he’s something precious. It makes Viktor dizzy in ways that the whiskey never could. 

Viktor’s hands explore eagerly, one holds Jayce’s jaw as they kiss while the other caresses down his chest. He needs to be touching this man, now. Both hands are reassigned to unbuttoning Jayce’s shirt with deft movements and in record time while Jayce supports him. His fingers map out Jayce’s abs and chest—an exploratory experiment—teasing one of his nipples with a pinch. Jayce groans into Viktor’s mouth, coaxing a pleasant hum out of Viktor from the passion of their tongues colliding.

Jayce pulls away after an indecipherable amount of time of navigating one another’s mouths, something Viktor could frankly do for hours, to bite Viktor’s bottom lip and grin at him. “What was that about being pretty on my knees?” Jayce whispers, his voice husky with desire. It sends shivers down Viktor’s spine. 

“Prove me right,” Viktor challenges, gasping when Jayce impatiently rips Viktor’s shirt open, the buttons scattering to the floor in all directions. Jayce’s mouth finds the crook of Viktor’s neck and shoulder, sucking a purple bruise to claim him. The hickey hurts, just a little, but it stirs arousal more than anything.

The broader man then picks him up by gripping his thighs and lifting, mindful of his leg in the process. He knew Jayce could carry him effortlessly, and Viktor suspected he would be a little more considerate than former flings had been. Jayce then carries Viktor to his desk, sitting him on top of it, shoving schematics and notes to the floor in the process.

“You better clean that up,” Viktor chides, but there’s no heat behind his words—just between his legs.

“Later. I have more important things to do right now.” He peppers kisses down Viktor’s neck and then his chest, creating more love bites in the process.

“Fuck, Jayce…” Viktor’s words come out breathy and desperate as he combs his fingers through Jayce’s hair. He pulls, guiding his partner’s head back to eye-level, licking into Jayce’s mouth eagerly. 

Blunt nails travel down Viktor’s torso, sparking arousal like he’s never felt before. It’s because this isn’t some sleezebag he’s picked up in a bar, it’s Jayce fucking Talis. 

Viktor feels blessed, not because Jayce is Piltover’s golden boy, or because he’s unbelievably hot and Pilties swoon when he walks by. He feels blessed because it’s his Jayce, who snores a little when he falls asleep at his desk. His Jayce, who gets him coffee at two in the morning while Viktor double checks Jayce’s math. His Jayce, who makes him laugh with all his stupid jokes—laugh like no one has ever made him laugh before.

Viktor lets out a gasp into Jayce’s mouth as Jayce rolls his hips against his. Jayce just takes it as an invitation to dip his tongue in Viktor’s mouth again. Sounds of moaning and urgent rutting, shaking the desk, fill the silent lab. Viktor would be lying if he said this hasn’t been a recurring fantasy. 

He can feel how hard Jayce is, straining against his slacks and begging for release. The bulge slots against Viktor’s groin perfectly, and he can feel how wet he is from so little attention. Viktor’s lust-addled mind wonders if he could take Jayce without any prep because he’s desperate to feel every inch of this man.

Viktor’s hands reach for Jayce’s belt, starting to unbuckle it but Jayce stops him. Breaking the kiss and panting, Jayce shakes his head. “You said you think I would look pretty on my knees. I’ve gotta test your theory,” he grins.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Viktor huffs, his cheeks bright pink from how turned on he is. He should be embarrassed by how desperate he is for Jayce to devour him, but he’s too turned on to give a shit.

Jayce’s gaze remains locked with Viktor’s as he sinks to his knees, licking his lips. His hands find Viktor’s belt, fumbling with it a little in a way that Viktor finds endearing, before pulling and—

Something snaps within him. Guilt. Shame. Disgust. He should not be fantasizing about the man he so desperately loves—who he isn’t sure loves him back—just because he’s… what, bored? Slowly going insane from the nothingness of the void?

You’re selfish. Jayce died for you, a foreign voice whispers from the darkness. And this is how you repay him? By perverting his memory?

If Viktor had a body, it would feel sick. The taunting voice speaks to his deepest fears.

He would be disgusted by you. Even in death, you can’t give him peace.

Shut up, shut up, Viktor would bite back if he had a mouth to bite back with. The voice just laughs.

That is the last time Viktor conjures up any… revisions to their history. Because this is hell, he decides, and even his fantasies are unsafe.

What he wouldn’t give to kiss Jayce one time. To hug him one last time. To hear his voice cut through the darkness again.

Everything is quiet. 

Viktor used to love the quiet.

 



If Jayce had to guess, it has been somewhere between fourteen and sixteen days since he found the cabin. In those two weeks, he’s learned a lot. 

It’s a hunting cabin so, fortunately, it’s equipped with all the basics for survival: beds, a woodfire stove, tinderboxes, an axe and fishing equipment. The river has fresh water. Every day, he carries buckets in from the river for drinking, washing, cooking and copious amounts of cleaning, which was annoying at first, but he’s getting in a rhythm now.

His father had taken him fishing as a child so he wasn’t entirely unfamiliar. While it took a little bit to relearn the skill, he was proficient enough to get a few catches a day after the first week. Obviously, feeding Viktor roasted fish was out of the question. Instead, he made a pot of fish broth from everything he didn’t eat to sustain his partner during his slumber. Jayce just assumed Viktor needed to eat, based on his mostly-human form.

There were tools too. Jayce was able to repair a leak in the roof that was, of course, right above his bed, and repair the door that had been hanging off of its hinges. Plus, he could tighten his brace from all of its recent overuse.

Jayce was shocked to even find clothes and boots, a miracle. Considering his own were filthy after working in the hot sun for days, it was a relief to have a not-so-fresh change of clothing. They were admittedly a little tight across the chest, but he’d take it. There were even some smaller garments that, while maybe a little big, probably would fit Viktor. It was a blessing, really. Viktor especially needed it, because he didn’t even have shoes.

“Would have been nice if the Arcane sent us off with some luggage, huh?” Jayce murmured as he set the pile of clothes for Viktor at the foot of his bed.

Despite all the small blessings, the most exciting discovery came from the very small loft that was a pain for him to squeeze into—a child was more suited for the space than a grown man of his size. Among old hunting trophies was a heavy box full of books and maps

Jayce was almost worried he would startle Viktor when he planned to unceremoniously drop the box from the loft above, but he knew he wouldn’t be so lucky. It crashed to the floor with a heavy thud and, as expected, he heard no stirring from Viktor’s room. 

When he wasn’t fishing, cleaning, cooking, chopping wood, fixing things or sleeping, Jayce spent his days at Viktor’s bedside, reading and talking to him.

“So Piltover and Zaun don’t exist. Never have, probably never will,” Jayce says with an air of… sadness, if he’s honest. He had suspected their old home was long out of reach, but it was confirmation. He would never see his friends or his mom again. At least he had Viktor. 

“Depending on how up-to-date these history texts are, I think it’s safe to say this reality doesn’t have the same modern conveniences we’re used to. We might be lucky if we can find a town with running water, but I’m not sure.” Jayce pauses. “You know, lots of opportunities for innovation at least? We might be cheating though.”

Viktor doesn’t stir, but Jayce knows he would be eager to learn more about the world around them. 

“There’s a book on the local wildlife and plant identification,” Jayce says casually with a smirk. “I bet that’s the first thing you’ll be going for.” 

Viktor was always more of a reader than Jayce. Sure, Jayce read the necessary texts to learn the science, math and engineering needed for their work, but his interest didn’t reach farther beyond that. However, he needs information, so he skims the books either way. And… huh. He stumbles on a page about the rainbow tree he had laid Viktor beneath.

“The Rynettian, also known as the Tree of Memories, is a tree common among the forests of Gheldania— Gheldania, is that what this place is called?” Jayce ponders aloud, skimming the page. “It has many meanings in many cultures but it predominantly represents unity. Many communities are built around a Marsos Rynettian—or a Master Rynettian—which is a Tree of Memories that has stood for at least five hundred years and is a minimum of… one hundred and twenty feet tall? Holy shit, that’s a big tree.”

Jayce lifts his head from the book to look at Viktor, not expecting anything, except…

Gold eyes are staring back at him. 

He drops the book. 

“Oh, f—Viktor.”  

Relief, panic, confusion and glee flood Jayce’s senses like an assault. He’s overwhelmed because he didn’t actually think about what he would do when Viktor woke up. He thought that he might’ve had more time to figure that out.

It was never if, it was always when.

Viktor ignores him for a moment, slowly sitting up, looking at his right hand—flesh—and then his left—metal. He doesn’t seem… present. 

Jayce tentatively watches, uncertain of what to say or do. So he remains silent, allowing Viktor to fully process his surroundings. 

“Is this… real?” Viktor asks quietly, looking down at the rest of his body. The left side of his chest morphed into steel as it moved towards his arm, which he touched experimentally. 

“As real as it’s going to get, I think,” Jayce says with a small, sad smile. Viktor looks at him again before, slowly, almost shyly—I’ve never known Viktor to be shy, he thinks—touching his cheek. 

Admittedly, Jayce has probably looked better. Definitely not as bad as when he got stuck in the ravine, but he’s looking more like a lumberjack these days with his growing beard and tanned arms. He unconsciously leans into the touch, grabbing hold of Viktor’s arm to ground himself. “I can’t… I can’t believe you’re awake.”

“How long has it been? Months? Years?” Viktor sounds shaky, as though he’s on the brink of falling out of this reality into another. Again.

“Two weeks, give or take a couple days.” Jayce says soothingly, brushing his thumb over the inside of Viktor’s wrist, feeling his increasing pulse.

His partner flinches, retracting his hand as though he’s been burned. Jayce tries not to take it personally, but his heart feels like a lead weight in his chest.

“How—why am I alive?” Viktor whispers the question like it’s a secret, or like he might undo whatever keeps him sustained in this new reality if he asks. 

“I don’t know. I have been trying to figure out how either of us are alive, but we just don’t know enough about the Arcane to—”

“I don’t deserve it, Jayce.” His tone is cold, matter-of-fact. It chills Jayce to the bone.

“I don’t think—”

“Please leave.”

If Jayce’s heart wasn’t already in the pit of his stomach, it was certainly at rock bottom now. He hesitates but, if space is what Viktor needs, no matter how desperately Jayce wants to hold him, he will give it. He would give Viktor anything.

At least Viktor is alive and awake. That’s what matters.

“Let me know if you need anything,” Jayce murmurs quietly, leaving the books behind as he closes the door. 

The sun lowers in the sky and night falls. Jayce spends hours anxiously watching Viktor’s door from the rotting couch, hoping his partner will come out. He bides his time with a mostly blank journal he found amongst the books, using it to sketch out the design for a fishing trap he’s been toying with, but it’s difficult to focus.

He feels more alone than he did when Viktor was still sleeping. But the brief moment of affection between them, when Viktor’s hand cradled his cheek, keeps him going.

He just needs time, Jayce reassures himself.

Hours later, he fills his time by cooking some of his catches of the day. Viktor can probably figure out that Jayce is making dinner, so he patiently waits for his partner to emerge.

Nothing.

After he eats and debates whether or not to knock, he finally does. “Vik, are you hungry?” 

No response.

“I know it’s not your favourite, but fish is pretty much our only option right now. Unless I learn how to use a bow,” Jayce laughs softly. Still nothing. “I’ll just… leave a plate out here, then. Goodnight.”

He leaves the roasted fish fillets on a plate in front of Viktor’s door and then goes to bed.

Only minutes later, he hears Viktor’s door open and close once again, letting out a sigh of relief as he lies on the sinking mattress. 

Viktor is alive. Viktor is awake. Viktor is eating.

Jayce counts his blessings, even though he hasn’t felt lonelier in weeks.