Chapter Text
ears, ringing.
“no…”
a warm weight, the iron tang of sweat and blood (how dare she it’s all her fault all YOUR fault) draped over her as she pushes it away.
“no, no…”
the high-pitched whine persists, cresting higher as she struggles to her feet, eyes focused only in front of her.
her voice cuts through for a moment, “vi? oh, aspects, why-”
she can sense the movement of caitlyn pushing past and around her, like the streaks of a paintbrush flicked across a canvas, flickering shapes and movements in an ever-changing zoetrope.
but in the center of the flickers sits a cracked miner’s helmet, half-hidden under the hulking frame of v̷͎́à̶n̷͐͐d̴͒̐- ṣ̶̃̌e̸̝̖̾̔c̶̣͖͂ǫ̸̈́n̵͔͚͘d̵̳̈́ ̸̢̯̆d̸̯͋a̴̲̿ď̸̡̖- the body.
she knows, before she gets there, of course she knows (ǵ̶̼o̶̹͐̍t̷͈͍̓́ ̵a̶̢̦̐̇ll̷̐ ̵ỷ̵̘̒ȍ̷̜ú̵r̸ ̵́b̴̫͊̏i̸͐̕tś̵ shutup shutup b̸̩̎e̶͊͝c̷a̶͗ủ̴̏s̵̊e̷̦̚ ̷͠s̶̲̋h̸ȇ̴ lo̷͂st̸̟́ ̵‘e̶͝m̶!̸̦̦̕ SHUT UP) but she has to see, has to know…
the world slows and she flashes forward, pink streaks and cracked hands reaching out to touch and shove and pull up and away (please please please please please please please pleASE)--
all that sits there is the helmet, goggles cracked again again again and the shell broken clean in two, rolling gently in the dust.
she could’ve knelt there forever, cradling it in a heap in her knees, cracked lenses glinting as they reflect her jagged face back at her, immovable and still, because the world stopped in that flash, her world was clear, of course it was clear, everything's so blurry now–
“jinx.”
that’s what she was.
“jinx.”
they would never let her forget that, would they?
“JINX.”
her hands are clutching and twisting caitlyn’s collar before her eyes catch up to stare into the blue, hard and flinty like those hexgems from all those years ago, the beginning of it all, the beginning of her –
“we need to help vi.”
ha , help, that isn’t something she can do, shouldn’t the piltie know that best?
“-ave our differences, and we will address them. but only after we get vi the help she needs.”
we, we, vi said that we were a we, but why would anyone ever want to be a we with her, she was a we with isha and look what happened to her…
“for better or worse, she’s your sister.”
her fingers grip at the fabric, nails digging against caitlyn’s neck.
“I never got to do much of this with my sister, y’know.”
“she saved you.”
“she shouldn’t have.”
it’s a roar, it’s a curse, it’s an admission of guilt. it’s the core of her very being ripped out of her and scrawled across her body.
shouldn’t have been saved. shouldn’t have been remembered. shouldn’t have been chosen, over and over and over again.
the hexgem blue narrows, and the face in front of her morphs into a snarl, twisting away.
“well she did. are you going to return the favour?”
they twist, and her eyes catch the crimson and black heap that had slid off of caitlyn’s shoulders as she grabbed her, dirty white bandages oozing red onto the dirt. still here. still real.
not gone. not yet.
“alright, sister. can’t let you shuffle off before I do, can we?” she leans down and cradles her head, lifting her as gently as she can bear, red-black streaks flashing brown-blue as her fingers curl against the back of her neck.
“you’re all I have left.”
“I can’t lose you.”
right back at you, sister.
it’s unsettling, how silent the voices are.
oh, not cupcake, her voice is loud and clear as they burst out of zaun; commanding uniforms left and right as they gawk all fish-mouthed at the sight of their oh-so-fearless leader running with zaun’s big fat failure hero and fat hands in tow.
but there’s nothing to cut through the sounds of her boots on the pavement; no brothers sniggering in her ear, no silco tsking softly under his breath.
just the quiet whimpers of her sister dying in her arms as she races towards some unknown haven.
racing away from isha, from vander, from everything she’s been building, all the shiny and the bright and the we and not I anymore—
just her own mind tick tick ticking back to the last moments: the bzzt crackle pop of the little devil sliding hexgem after hexgem into zapper; the very last time their eyes would ever meet; the moment isha looks towards the sky and the click tick BOOM -
“you feel it? that buzzing behind your eyes?”
a watery, sad smile.
“best feeling in the world, kid.”
“pew!”
it’s not until the groan of the metal hinges on a fence swing wide in her face that she sees the familiar kiramman crest swimming distortedly in pink, burning her eyes and cheeks like the lava burning vander’s, threatening to overwhelm her vision.
“through here!”
they pass grandiose rooms filled with gold and blue, practically drowning in stolen opulence and greed, shining bright in the piercing sunlight that wasn’t present the first time she’d snuck through these halls. her hands don’t itch to break and shatter and steal as much as they did then - might have something to do with the armful of half-dead sister that really quiets the klepto in a gal.
of course cupcake leads them into her floor of the house, bursting into a clean, polished office/clinic/lab where a blustering blue-bearded oldie gapes before trembling visibly as he pointed straight at her.
“why on earth would you bring that- that monster into our home?”
zero for creativity, mister.
caitlyn motions her towards an operating table (g̸̲̕r̷̫̃ẽ̷̺y̵̦̾ ̶̗͛d̸̟̚ơ̴͍c̴̺̀t̵̡͠ȍ̸̭ř̷̦ ̴̝̔s̸͖̀h̶̞͗i̶͕͂m̷̗̕m̵͈̆e̴̩͒ř̶͇ ̸̤̀p̶̠̓ā̷͖i̷̢̎n̷̏ͅp̸͔̓ä̶̗í̶̟n̴̜͛p̵̯͑a̵͕͂i̷͖̅ǹ̶ͅp̵͉͋A̷̮̔I̸̱̿N̷̟͗) where she lays vi against the cold metal (b̷̲͋u̴̻͋ř̵̨n̶̟̍î̸͔n̵͑͜ĝ̵͓ ̴̅ͅs̴̡͋c̴̮̃r̸̨͌e̵̥͑a̷̦̚m̸̲͝i̸̛̖n̸͔̒g̸̦̑ ̷̛̱b̸̨͆l̵̳̍o̸̳̓ơ̷̮d̶̡́ ̴̪̅w̴͙͝h̷͎͠ỹ̷̮ ̵͉̽d̵͖̾i̸͉̔d̸͕̀n̸̢̍'̶̖̍t̵̻͝ ̶̛͎h̵̊ͅe̷͝ͅ ̵̞̽l̸̰̊ȅ̵̟t̸̖̽ ̴̯́h̷̹̓e̶̡͆r̶̰̚ ̴̻̑Ḓ̵͛I̶͈̽E̷̞̐) and her sister jolts at the feeling against her skin, a pained hiss escaping through her teeth.
“I need you to help me save vi, father, please.”
“that criminal killed your mother, caitlyn!”
her head tilts; would’ve remembered killing a hoity-toity noble lady that looked like cupcake, she wasn’t that coocoo.
his beard bristles like a molting cragduck, jabbing his finger repeatedly like he wished he was holding a knife instead, “it was you who shot that rocket through the councillors’ tower, wasn’t it? they were on the precipice of reconciliation and you blew it up. literally!”
oh. is that why cupcake hated her so much? the pure loathing in her eyes did feel a bit much for just one big firework show - she’d killed plenty of enforcers and the look she had at their little dinner party read more like piltie condescension and fear. kind of hypocritical to go on a grief-filled killing spree for… y’know, her own grief-filled killing spree, though. guess they’re one-for-one, now.
“sure was, cupcake senior. you gonna do anything about it?” she lets her head loll to the side, eyes narrow and flashing.
“why, you-”
“enough. ” caitlyn steps in front of her father, placing a calming hand on his shoulder, “father, we can talk about her transgressions after you see to vi’s wounds. please,” her voice cracks a little, “you know what she means to me.”
it’s pathetic, how easily his face crumples at that small show of vulnerability; an obvious mirror of the spoiled, coddled upbringing caitlyn had if that’s all it takes to stop interrogating your wife’s murderer. she can see how obviously wrecked he’s been in the months since - unkempt beard sprouting every which way, skin sunken and shoulders hunched and rounded inwards, like the weight of his grief was pulling him down.
yet, disappointingly, he sags against caitlyn’s hand, eyes closing resignedly as he nods.
“yes, I know… alright. I can’t guarantee my hands are as steady as they might’ve been before… before. but I will try my best to help violet.”
she doesn’t try to suppress the snort that comes with “violet” , and his eyes narrow before turning abruptly towards vi’s body, hands in a sudden whirlwind of movement as he began his work, “what are her exact injuries?”
“abdominal wound from a noxian spear, possible internal bleeding exacerbated by a large concussive explosion from behind-”
because she was trying to save her, from an explosion made by the kid trying to save her from the first dad she remembers and couldn’t even kill right, cursing him to a half-prescient existence locked inside a blood-hungry beast. the scoreboards really read ‘jinx’ all the way down, huh?
maybe she should just take her name out of the ring.
that’s what she’d wanted, lying on that underground altar.
couldn’t even die right.
“you should put me in a cell now.”
caitlyn cuts herself off, head swiveling as she blinked in that startled, owl-like way of hers, “pardon?”
“I said, you should probably put me in a cell now.” she straightens, unclipping her belt and zapper off of her methodically, “it’s what you’ve wanted this whole time, right? what that whole crusade was for? well, you’ve got me.” she thrusts her hands up into caitlyn’s face, pressed together, “tie me up, officer.”
she has the audacity to flinch, throwing a hand up as she stepped back, stupid and placating, “don’t you want to know if violet is going to be okay?”
“I know she will be.” because I’ll be gone. “your daddy won’t kill her. even if he tries, you pilties have fancy shmancy medical stuff you can use. now can you hurry up and not take a gift poro in the mouth and imprison me already?”
the hextech blue flashes with uncertainty, but caitlyn nods to the enforcers that have been trying to creep up on her for the past three minutes despite the badly disguised panting from exertion and fear she could hear from a hallway away. she spins on them with a grin, because scaring piggies was always going to be funny regardless of the situation, and their answering flinch is the last flash of satisfaction she knows she might have for the rest of her life.