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It was too late. The rubble had snapped Viktor's spine - as weak as he was, it would have been a death sentence for anyone. Jayce tells himself this every morning, evening, night. It's supposed to stop him going insane, Cait said, but it doesn't seem to be working. Jayce figures if this is sanity, maybe he'd prefer the alternative.
The funeral was quiet. If Jayce had his way it would have been a state funeral. Mourners lining the streets. Black veils. The lot. But it wasn't up to him, so it was quiet. Him. Heimerdinger. Mel. Cait. Vi. Silent, cautious.
He looked beautiful, Jayce thought. Like he could be sleeping. In fact, the makeup they slapped on his face made him look healthier than he ever had when he was alive. You couldn't see down past his hands in the coffin. Like nothing had happened at all. His purple metallic fingers laced with the soft flesh of his other hand stirred something unnatural in Jayce; he didn't know how he did it. Didn't know how he hadn't noticed something was seriously, seriously wrong.
He could have saved him if he only knew how.
That night, he dreams of Viktor's face. Torn, blank, lifeless. Smoke dissipating around him. Flames lap at his metal leg like the tide coming in at last. He looks peaceful. Eyes closed, mouth agape, he's frozen in this spot. Forever. No matter how many times Jayce pulls his body from the ground, weeps over the bag of bones on the lab table, pours foreign soil on a cheap wooden box. It will never go any other way.
When he wakes and Viktor is next to him he almost throws up. He stumbles backwards out of bed, blanket falling with him, leaving Viktor's body open to the cold of the morning. He blurs at the edges. Barely there, fading in and out and in and out in front of Jayce's tear filled eyes. His eyes open, golden, skin clear of scars. No metal but the pins in his spine.
"You shouldn't be here, Viktor."
His voice wavers and he winces. He stands over Viktor as he sits up, looking through Jayce. The pillows and sheets are undisturbed by his movement as he shuffles to the edge of the bed, stretching his back, leg, hips. His morning stretches. Jayce remembers those. They never helped but he did them religiously, anything to bring the pain down just a touch.
Sunlight streams through the windows, illuminating Viktor's iridescent form. He pushes himself up from the bed and stumbles towards the bathroom, slowly, methodically. Still not fully awake - he never was in the mornings. Always preferred to stay late and wake late, unlike Jayce. It's why he let him sleep in. Viktor knew he'd always be there, whenever he showed up.
Jayce trails him to the bathroom, watches him wash his face in the sink, coughing occasionally, gently massaging his chest to try and ease the burn. He looks at himself in the mirror, fingers trailing over his gaunt cheeks. A sigh. He's naked. Gorgeous. Alive.
But not quite.
Viktor straightens, audible cracks as he resets his joints. Jayce's heartbeat quickens as VIktor slowly turns his head, wild hair falling over his eyes, still glowing behind his fringe. Their breathing synchronises for a moment as Viktor makes eye contact with Jayce, but something's off, like there's something just behind Jayce that Viktor needs but can't quite grasp.
"Jayce?"
And, as soon as he appeared, he's gone.
Jayce lurches forwards into the space Viktor occupied, a horrible feeling building in his stomach. His legs are weak and he crumples to his knees, a scream turning to sick in his throat, splattering on the tiles as he retches. He coughs hard and stands up, vision shaky, looking into the mirror, hoping Viktor might be there, just beyond the glass.
No Viktor. Just two tired eyes, heavy with grief, red rimmed and bloodshot. His eye bags could hold a thousand tons. The anger rises in him and he shatters the mirror with his fist; he'd give anything to pour the blood that leaks from his knuckles into Viktor's cold body, pump him with warmth, swap their places in the circle of life. He deserves one more chance. Gods, he deserves one more chance.
-
Pushing open the heavy lab doors, he's not surprised to find he's the only one there. Notes are strewn across the floor from when he swept them off the desk in a fit of rage, Viktor's body lying still behind him. The hexcore still glows, pulsating sickeningly on its perch, throbbing like a heartbeat. Jayce hovers his hand over it, lets the spikes grow larger and larger, his hand forced by something mysterious, frightening, dangerous. It mesmerises. It brings life. It takes it. Could-
The door swings open behind him and he pulls away. Caitlyn stands in the doorway, her uniform sharp, holding her together. If one button popped on that shirt, she'd come apart with it, disintegrated. Her boots clack on the floor and the thunk of Viktor's crutch echoes in Jayce's ears.
"How are you doing?"
Jayce shrugs.
"How are you doing?"
Cait bristles, her jaw clenching slightly.
"Bad."
"Yeah, bad."
They embrace, and Jayce closes his eyes, Viktor's shimmering body still in his mind. He doesn't want to think too hard about it, so they get right to clearing the desks, a distraction for both of them. Even in silence the company is welcome; neither have been particularly social since the attack, but they share a bottle occasionally, drowning it to the bottom, hoping they'll find who they're looking for swimming around in the dregs.
Jayce sorts the notes into piles, and Caitlyn fills cardboard boxes with junk, careful to ask Jayce which things he might need to destroy the hexcore. He had, after all, promised Viktor. If he can do anything for him, he can honour that. Whatever it did, to Viktor, to Sky, Jayce had never seen that desperate look in his eyes before. He couldn't even name it.
He separates hexcore related notes, old research, and random pages, scattered from who knows where. Memories flood back of discoveries, late nights, early mornings, ordering takeout because he couldn't drag Viktor away from his desk even if he tried. Sleeping crushed together on the sofa, massaging Vik's leg when it got too bad after hours of sitting in one position. Soft kisses that tasted of coffee with extra sweetmilk.
"Jayce, do you want these?"
He's snapped out of his haze by Cait, holding a stack of papers.
"What are they?"
"Well, they're Viktor." She slides the stack across the desk. "Did you draw these?"
Jayce's throat tightens a little. He'd often sketch Viktor in the lab when he had much more important things to do, mesmerised by the lines of his face, his body, everything. He's sure there are nude sketches somewhere in there, and he pulls the stack of papers towards him to save Cait from having to see his poor attempts at anatomy.
"Yes, yeah, I used to draw him sometimes. Yeah. I'll keep these. I'll…"
He feels him before he sees him. An eerie chill shoots through his body, and he snaps his head towards the hexcore, still belching its revolting purple flares. Viktor stands in front of it, naked but for boxers and his brace. Jayce can see the hexcore through Viktor's translucent torso, sharp spikes of iridescence beaming from his skin.
"Jayce?"
Cait's voice is muffled as he zeroes in on Viktor, stumbling towards him, calling his name praying he hears it though the ether. He can see the runes carved into his skin, bleeding red onto his shiny white skin, and he lifts his hand. Before Jayce can even reach out to him, Viktor grabs the hexcore and vanishes in a flash of light.
"FUCK!"
Jayce falls to his knees, scrambling at the floor where Viktor stood, trying to pull anything, any kind of residue, but nothing remains. Cait says nothing, stands staring, and Jayce yells over his shoulder;
"Didn't you see him?"
She shakes her head. Her eyes are wide, and Jayce hits the ground with his bandaged hand, the pain sending sharp shocks up his arm. He's breathless, and as he gulps air in, he lets out an anguished scream, clutching the floor panels, willing Viktor back into existence, just for a moment. Just a moment.
-
All traces of Viktor have been removed from the lab. His chalkboard workings. His notes. Takeout boxes, toys, stray painkillers. All that remains are scratches in the floor from his cane, and Jayce is sure they'll be buffed out one day. If you never knew him, you'd be forgiven for thinking he never existed.
They sit on the sofa in the lab, Cait resting her feet on Jayce's legs. They used to sit like this when they were younger, and Jayce closes his eyes, willing them both back in time, when everything was okay . Before the attack. Before the gemstones. Before…
"We're going into Zaun."
Jayce snaps his head up.
"What?"
Cait looks down at her hands.
"I'm leading a strike team. We're going to go after Jinx and anyone still loyal to Silco, and end this."
"You're going to go after them? What does that mean?"
"You know what it means."
"No, tell me. Tell me what you mean."
"Don't you want justice? For Viktor?"
Cait swings her legs to the floor and stands up, and Jayce follows, towering over her despite her heels.
"I don't want justice. I want him back."
"Well, he isn't coming back, is he?"
"Neither is your mother." The venom in his voice shocks both of them, and Cait steps backwards, hands balled into fists at her sides. "Doesn't matter how many people you kill in the undercity, she's staying dead."
"You're one to talk. Did he ever find out? That you killed a kid in Zaun?"
"Shut up."
"I'm killing Jinx. And anyone who supports her bullshit. That's their choice. Not mine. It won't bring my mother back, or Viktor, but it's for them."
"Don't do this in his name. Don't fucking say it's for him because he never would have wanted you to go in guns blazing."
"It doesn't matter what he would have wanted because he's fucking dead!"
Cait turns on her heel and slams the door behind her, and Jayce kicks the sofa, claws at his hair, screams into his palms. The last thing Viktor would have wanted was this. Revenge. Terror. Not in his name. Not in anyone's name.
He slumps down on the sofa and squeezes his eyes shut, wishing he could sink into the cushions, disappear, leave behind all the responsibilities, wash clean every bit of pain he's caused. Across the room, he hears a soft voice, and it startles him.
"Jayce…"
Viktor.
He stands and stares at the willowy figure leaning against the workbench, light leaking from his sides, pale skin translucent as ever. Jayce is almost used to it now, the third time he's seen Viktor since they put him in the ground, and he hopes this one lasts longer than the last two. Maybe he can last forever.
Viktor's crutch clatters to the ground, and Jayce freezes. He remembers this moment. It was after the finalisation of the hexgate plans. Jayce was so excited, he couldn't help himself, crowding Viktor against the table, knocking his crutch to the floor in the process. They both stopped, stuck, pressed against each other; Jayce stuttered out an apology, but Viktor grabbed his face and dragged him into a kiss.
Watching a replay of your own life is a strange feeling. Doubly so when you can't see yourself. He stares, rapt, as Viktor leans forwards and kisses nothing at all. His soft, echoey moans bounce off the walls, and Jayce quietly moves across the Lab towards him, terrified to break the spell.
Heart smashing against his ribs, he stands in front of Viktor and leans forward, trying to catch his mouth. It's there, he's there, but he can't quite hold him, like a cloud hovering in one spot. It's wrong, doesn't feel like Viktor, but Jayce keeps kissing him, gripping the sides of the workbench, just how he did five years ago.
He feels the tears on his cheeks, but he ignores them, pulling away to look at Viktor again. He cradles Viktor's cheek in his hand and it's like holding steam, hot to the touch, and his eyes are searing white, swimming with tiny aberrations, tearing through his pupils, and it makes Jayce sob even harder.
"What happened to you?"
Viktor stares blankly back at him, the echo unable to respond. Jayce grabs him suddenly, wrapping both arms around him, and he vanishes, dust in Jayce's embrace. He thought that might happen. Still, he stumbles, and he can't stop the tears that fall, hot and salty on the empty workbench.
-
"You could be right. It may well be the hexcore. Its power is beyond what we understand…I think it is channeling him, somehow."
Mel pours him a mug of tea, and he takes it. The heat burns his fingertips but he can't find the energy to move them. She looks over the notes he's left out for her, sips on her own cup.
"I don't understand. It's only things that have already happened."
"Echoes. Memories are…powerful magic. You said you wanted to destroy it?"
Jayce stares into his mug.
"I have to. It's dangerous. Whatever he did with it, he…I promised. But…"
Mel places a hand on his shoulder, and he leans his head against it. Physical touch has been a rarity recently. He's avoided touching the apparitions since the incident in the lab, allowing them to go about their business undisturbed. Something he can live with.
Not here, but not gone.
Good enough.
"I know you want to let him stay. But he's not really here. You know that. This is hurting you beyond belief, Jayce."
He clenches his jaw. She's right. He's been living in stasis. Living between his room and the lab, hoping to catch a glimpse of Viktor, working on the hexgates, lying on his back; even going to the toilet, once. It's become mundane. Boring. But he needs it. Part of his routine, like brushing his teeth or doing the laundry. A small alteration to normalcy.
He knows he has to let go, but he doesn't feel ready. In fact, he could live like this forever. Snippets of a life replaying in front of his eyes, never truly having to say goodbye. Unacknowledged, unknown, but loved, and able to love the man before him, through the arcane barrier.
He's thought about joining him every day. Standing at the sewer entrance that pours into Zaun, watching the explosions rise from the buildings as Caitlyn locks horns with the city. He thinks about when Viktor stood in this spot, told him to destroy the hexcore, made him promise .
He didn't know it would be the only thing keeping him alive. But this is no life, Jayce thinks, a slideshow of moments, random, unfiltered. Suspended in time. Unable to let go.
Jayce looks at his hands, remembers when he pulled Viktor from the wreckage, clung to his lifeless body for hours. Took him back to his room, washed the ash and dust from his body. Kissed every part of him, tucked his hair behind his ears, covered him with a sheet. Held his hand until the enforcers arrived to take him. Lay in the indent of his body for a full day until Cait forced him up.
It congeals inside him, the realisation, something he doesn't want to know. He wants to close his eyes and plug his ears and scream until everything goes dark, but Mel is right, it hurts, it hurts so much it feels like he's dying too, and Viktor is really gone, gone forever, and he knows. He knows.
He has to let him go.
-
The hexcore hums on its stand, and Jayce stares at it, transfixed. He has to destroy it. He just doesn't know how. A box of random tools sits by his feet, and he kicks at it absently, the soft thud the only sound he can register in the tall, empty room. He has to do it. For Viktor. When it's gone, he can move on. They both can.
He tries various tools, for hours, dismantling the base, hitting it with wrenches and knives and the chair Viktor would sit in because it was just that bit better on his leg, but nothing works. There's a throbbing in his skull, and he's sure the hexcore is resisting his attempts, but there's no chance he's giving up now.
The room is lit by the glow of the hexcore and the golden city lights outside, and Jayce tears open the closet he hid the hammer away in. He'd sworn to never use it again, after Zaun, but it's all he has left. Heimerdinger was right. Magic is dangerous. Maybe the only thing that can destroy it is itself.
He lifts it towards the hexcore, and its flesh seems to shrink back in fear, as if it can feel, as if there's something in there. Jayce doesn't care anymore. He needs it gone. He promised Viktor. He lifts the hammer and smashes down before he can think himself out of it.
For a second, it's silent. Peaceful, almost, if not for the feeling of dread as Jayce waits for what he knows is coming; the explosion of light almost blinds him, and he falls backwards, eyes screwed shut to save his vision.
"Jayce."
He feels a hand on his arm, and he slowly opens his eyes to see Viktor in front of him, flesh and blood, naked, real .
"Viktor. Viktor!"
He grabs Viktor's face and kisses him, pure instinct. When he pulls back he can see there's a dome of light surrounding them, but he's focused on Viktor, taking in every inch of his face, his neck, his body. Here again.
"I know you have been observing my echoes, Jayce. I'm sorry I could not do more, but…"
"No, Vik, it's fine, you're okay, it's okay. Thank you."
"You know I cannot stay."
"I know."
He clings to Viktor as though if he holds on hard enough, he might come back. Maybe he can walk backwards through the terrifying door, back into Jayce's arms, and forever they can breathe together as one, entwined in the stars like they were meant to be.
"Thank you, Jayce."
"You died, Vik." The words are thick in his mouth. "You…I could have saved you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't do it."
Viktor intertwines their fingers, leans his forehead against Jayce's. Viktor isn't breathing, but Jayce's breath is tangled in his lungs, barely there. There are so many things he wants to ask. To say. To do.
"It had to be like this. It is not your fault that you cannot repair a broken spine."
Jayce huffs a laugh and Viktor smiles, leaving a soft kiss on Jayce's forehead. The roaring in his ears is almost deafening, and he knows they must have limited time.
"Let me come with you."
"No, Jayce."
"Please. Let me join you. I have nothing left here, I-"
"That isn't true. You have Kiramman, Medarda, a whole world to change. There is always something left."
"But I can't do it without you."
"You can."
Viktor feels lighter, and Jayce clings harder, feeling him start to disappear. He's not ready. He's not ready. He-
"I'm not ready!"
"I know. But you have to carry on anyway."
"Please. Viktor, please, don't go, I have so much left to say, I can't let you go-"
He rambles and rambles as Viktor holds his cheek, golden eyes looking straight at him, deep into his soul, and Jayce feels the tears spilling out of him again. He's fading, and it's not fair, it's not fair .
"It is a natural part of life, Jayce. You will be okay. You will grow around it, and I will never be far from you. Always right…" Viktor places his palm on Jayce's heart. "here."
Viktor smiles, and there's an immense burst of light. Jayce can hear himself screaming, feel Viktor hold onto him, and he clings to the sensation, knowing this is the last time, the last chance, and as Viktor fades away for the final time he whispers into Jayce's ear;
"I will always be with you, partner."
And he's gone.
The lab is empty. The hexcore is gone too, and Jayce throws up, clutching at his chest where Viktor touched him only moments ago. Tears and sick colour his mouth, and he lies back, sobbing loudly, the pain hot and heavy in his chest. It feels as though something has been ripped from him; something is gone from inside him, replaced by something new, heavier, worse.
Viktor was right. He'll grow around it, this new horrible feeling. Now, it feels raw, awful, unnatural, but one day he'll wake up and it will feel like it has always been there. It scares him. Growing old without Viktor by his side. Going about his daily life and being unable to turn to him, talk to him, kiss him.
It will be hard. But he'll do it. At first, he'll do it because he has to. Eventually, he'll do it because he wants to. And now, and forever, it will be for Viktor; but one day it will be for Jayce as well.