Chapter Text
Caitlyn took three glasses out of the cabinet, the crystal catching the light of the fire as she set them on the table with a soft clink. Three glasses. They were supposed to be for Caitlyn, her mother and father, engraved with the Kirraman keys and rimmed with gold.
In her mother’s absence, her glass had become Vi’s.
Caitlyn uncapped the crystal decanter with a soft pop and poured a healthy measure of dark amber liquid into each glass. The Ionian whiskey swirled before settled, rich and inviting.
Tobias cast a nervous glance toward Vi, his fingers twitching by his side. She looked every bit as uncomfortable as he felt, her gaze fixed on the glass Caitlyn had poured for her like it might bite.
“Caitlyn,” Tobias said softly, stepping forward in an attempt to intervene.
Vi’s eyes snapped to him, pleading silently for him to not say anything about her alcoholism. It wasn’t something she’d discussed with Caitlyn. It just… hadn’t come up. Tobias had treated her for withdrawal symptoms when she’d been on her sick bed. She’d mentioned the cravings to him in passing and he’d done his best to help her. It was not his place to tell his daughter and so he hadn’t.
Tobias met her frantic look and smiled in the kind gentle way he did, the fire casting a soft orange glow over his features. He swallowed hard, his throat dry as he grappled for the right words. Caitlyn was distracted, by the fire, staring into it solemnly.
“I don’t know if now is… the right occasion.” He settled on.
Caitlyn scoffed, turning to him with an arched brow. “It’s a drink, Father.” She picked up two of the glasses and passed one to Vi who took it woodenly. Caitlyn’s gaze lingered on her for a moment but Vi gave her a tight smile and it was enough to reassure her for the moment. If something was wrong Vi would tell her. If not in front of her father, then later, when they were alone.
Tobias hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line, but he took the glass when Caitlyn passed it to him. He could feel Vi’s tension radiating beside him, her hand clenched tightly around the glass.
Caitlyn returned to the table and picked up her own glass, swirling the whiskey. She looked up and raised an eyebrow at the uncomfortable atmosphere that had captured the room, her gaze darting between them. “What’s with you two?” She asked, her tone lined with irritation.
“Nothing,” Vi said a little too quickly, “you were saying?”
Caitlyn pinned her father with her gaze, if Vi was not going to say something, perhaps he would. “It’s been a long few weeks, Caitlyn. That’s all.”
“Precisely why I thought it was time to celebrate. I’m alive. Vi’s alive. We made it through, in spite of the odds. I wanted to take a moment to appreciate that.”
“There’s nothing wrong with celebrating a victory.” Tobias agreed. Vi remained silent and Caitlyn chalked it up to her grief at the loss of her sister and Vander. It was understandable and Vi was coping with it far better than Caitlyn had with her own grief at the loss of her mother.
Caitlyn raises her glass, “to survival, against the odds.”
Her father raises his glass and so does Vi, albeit barely aloft. Maybe a Zaunite thing. Caitlyn passes no remark. She takes a healthy sip of her drink and closes her eye shut. The burn in her throat a comfort.
Vi’s fingers tremble as she grips the whiskey glass, her knuckles faintly whitening around the etched crystal. Her heart pounds in her chest, a tangle of nerves and excitement. She knows she shouldn’t take a sip. That one drink has never been enough for her but the temptation is so close. She almost doesn’t want to resist.
Vi steals a glance at Tobias who is standing stiffly beside her. His glass remains untouched in his own grip. Caitlyn moves to the armchair at the far side of the room, leaving the plush sofa for her father and Vi to sit in if they chose to sit. She swirls her own drink absently before taking another small sip.
The silence is heavy, uncomfortable and Caitlyn’s eyes narrow as she realises that neither Vi nor her father have taken a drink.
“What’s going on with you too?” Caitlyn asks suddenly, her tone sharp with suspicion.
Vi startles, the glass wobbling slightly in her hand. She quickly steadies it and forces a grin. “What? Nothing. Just savouring the moment.” She crosses the room and perches on the arm of the chair that Caitlyn has chosen to sit on. She hopes the proximity means she would be under less scrutiny.
Caitlyn notices how Vi chooses to sit on her blind side, something she never chooses to do. It sets her mood further on edge.
Tobias clears his throat and moves to the sofa, perching on the edge as if he’d rather be anywhere else. He places his drink of the side table beside him and hopes that Vi will do the same.
Caitlyn’s eyes flick between them, her suspicion growing. “You’re acting strange,” she directs up toward Vi, her neck straining to keep the woman in her view. Then she fixes her gaze on her father, “both of you are.”
Vi shifts on the arm of the chair, she can feel sweat gathering on her brow and on her neck. Maybe if she just drunk it she wouldn’t go too far this time. She was safe, wasn’t she? Surrounded by loved ones. Maybe she didn’t have a problem anymore. Maybe she could show some self-control for once in her life. Her tongue felt like sandpaper, her throat raw. She wanted nothing more than to feel the burn of her whiskey as it slid down her throat. But the same question kept spinning round her mouth.
What if it isn’t enough?
“I think we’re just… processing. Like I said, dear, it’s been a long few weeks.”
Caitlyn arches an eyebrow, unconvinced. Her piercing gaze settles on Vi, lingering like she’s waiting for her to crack and finally explain what is going on. Vi’s hand tightens on the glass again as she tries to steady herself but the trembling in her arm only worsens under Caitlyn’s sharp gaze.
She stands up and moves back across the room to the fire place. Caitlyn notices that Tobias is watching her, he hasn’t spared a glance towards his daughter. Something was wrong. There was something they weren’t telling her and it was driving her mad.
“Just tell me.” Caitlyn speaks again, her tone softer though her eyes are narrowed in the same way when she’s trying to figure out a case. “After everything we’ve been through. I can handle it.”
Vi decides there’s only one way out. Without hesitation, she raises the glass into a proper toast. “You’re right, Cupcake. We should celebrate.” She downs the whiskey in one long, burning gulp. The amber liquid sears its was down her throat and for one blissful moment, she forgets everything. The nerves, the loss, the pain, the tension, even Caitlyn’s suspicion. All the white noise fractures into nothing and she feels the loud buzzing in her brain finally still.
She sets the glass down next to the decanter with a sharp clink, exhaling shakily through her nose as she turns back to the fire with an unmistakable tremor in her shoulder. Vi rolls it and Caitlyn recognises the gesture. Vi gearing up for a fight.
Tobias stiffens at the sight, his lips parting in a gasp he can’t supress. He should have said something, but no, it wasn’t his place. Still, he can’t help the guilt burning through him. He doesn’t know what to do with his own glass. His face blanches, complexion taking on a faintly green hue. For a moment it seems like he might say something, but instead he reaches for his own glass. With grim resolve, he follows Vi’s lead, swallowing the whiskey in one quick, pained motion.
The silence that follows is deafening. Caitlyn stares at them both, placing her almost empty glass on atop the cabinet beside her. She scratches beneath the strap of her eyepatch and groans as the fire warmed air slips over her damaged eye. Her sharp blue eye darts between Vi and Tobias, her head turning to compensate for the loss of peripheral vision. Her brows furrow as she tries to make sense of the strange tension hanging in the air.
“Okay,” Caitlyn says slowly, “what the hell was that?”
Vi turns on her heel, facing Caitlyn with a shallow grin. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “I needed that, I guess.”
“Celebrating,” Tobias says weakly, clearing his throat to clear his voice. “It’s still hard.”
Caitlyn feels shame grip her. Was her father implying that his grief was still so sharp that he could not see fit to celebrate their victory? Was Vi on his side? There’s something she’s missing, something neither of them are saying. A pang of something familiar twists in her chest, something she’d felt throughout her life but never with her father or Vi. The sting of being left out, of standing on the outside of whatever unspoken exchange had just passed between Vi and her father.
“Right, of course.” Caitlyn replies bitterly, “I know that.”
“It’s been a long day.” Tobias announces, the faint green tinge in his face betraying his unease. He rises stiffly from his seat. “I think I shall retire for the night.” He looks towards Vi with a soft, sad smile. “You know where to find me if you need me, Violet.”
Vi’s eyes snap to him, widening slightly. Her lips part, as if she is about to say something in return but she snaps her mouth shut and nods stiffly.
“Goodnight, Caitlyn, Vi.” He says, nodding at each of the women before turning and leaving the room, the door clicking shut behind him.
“Alright,” Caitlyn says, turning her full attention to Vi. Expression unreadable but her eye sharp and questioning. Once she is certain her father is out of earshot. “Explain to me exactly what is going on.”
Vi shifts uncomfortably, “I’m just thinking that maybe your dads right. Bed might be a good idea.”
“It’s barely 10 O’Clock and you rarely sleep until the early hours of the morning. What is going on?”
Vi exhales sharply, running a hand through her hair. “It’s nothing, really. Just… a weird moment.”
Caitlyn’s patience is thin, her frustration evident. “Vi you downed that drink like it was poison, and my father, who looked positively ill, did the same thing. I’m not stupid. There’s something you’re both not telling me.”
Vi flinches at the sharpness in Caitlyn’s voice. Caitlyn’s expression softens immediately, guilt sweeping through her. The last time Vi had flinched from her, she’d hit her. She would regret that decision until the day she died. She hoped Vi knew that.
“It’s nothing you need to worry about.” Vi mumbles, her voice quieter now.
“Not something I need to be worried about?” Caitlyn echoes, struggling to keep the frustration out from her tone. “Can you hear yourself? We said there would be no more secrets between us, Vi. Please tell me what’s going on.”
Vi looks down, her jaw tightening. She’s never been good at talking about her struggles, and this… this was something she’d hoped to leave behind.
“Vi, you’re trembling.” Caitlyn stands and moves across the room to the fire. She hasn’t felt unsure about touching Vi since the battle but now, it feels like there is something between them. “Can… can I hold you?”
“Huh?” Vi’s shoulders are raised like hackles, tight against her neck and ears. “Yeah.”
Caitlyn rushes forward and presses her body into Vi’s back. She loops her arms under Vi’s and curls them over her shoulders, holding her close and tight.
Caitlyn presses her lips to Vi’s ear and Vi can smell the whiskey on her breath, taste it on her tongue. She wants another glass. She wants another four. Vi swallows hard and Caitlyn brings her lips down across Vi’s jaw, gentle and chaste.
“You can talk to me, you know that?”
“I know.”
“Is it the whiskey?” Caitlyn asks, unable to let it go. She knew it was a whiskey her mother had cherished, often shared with her father. The pair had started that bottle and the decanter was all that remained. Perhaps that’s why her father seemed so perturbed when Caitlyn retrieved it. “I can get us something else if you’d prefer?”
“Don’t,” Vi’s response is quick, her voice tight and strained. She steps forward abruptly, pulling out of Caitlyn’s grasp. The sudden movement knocks Caitlyn off balance, and she stumbles into Vi’s back. Vi flinches at the contact, recoiling as if burnt. “Sorry,” her words are thick, pained, “I just—don’t.”
Caitlyn freezes, her brow furrowing more deeply. “Vi?”
Vi shakes her head, her gaze darting around the room like a caged animal searching for an escape. Her gaze lingers on the door and for a heart-stopping moment, Caitlyn fears Vi might bolt
“Hey,” Caitlyn tries softly, she manages to gain Vi’s attention but it’s desperate eyes that meet her own.
Vi’s chest heaves, her pulse thundering in her ears. Memories claw their way to the surface, the feeling of a damp alleyway against her cheek, the roar of the crowd, fighting and fighting and fighting…. The thought of another drink, another slip down a road she’d thought was behind her. It tightens her chest until it feels like she can’t breathe.
She can’t start something she won’t be able to stop again.
“I can’t,” Vi gasps, her voice barely audible. “I just… can’t.”
“Vi,” Caitlyn says slowly, the frustration from earlier entirely dissipated. “It’s alright. You don’t have to do anything. I promise.”
Vi takes another step back, crossing her arms tightly over her chest, holding herself together as best she can. “It’s not that simple,” she says, her voice cracking. “I’ve already… Fuck, Cupcake. I’m going to be sick.”
Caitlyn’s heart lurches. “Can you make it to the bathroom?”
“Yeah,” Vi answers breathlessly, her words rushed. “Just, please… take me now.”
Caitlyn doesn’t hesitate. She grabs Vi’s arm and guides her toward the nearest bathroom. The moment they reach the door, Vi rips it open and drops to her knees in front of the toiler. Before Caitlyn can move to help, Vi is forcing her fingers down her throat.
“Vi!” Caitlyn cries out, horrified. She lunges forward, grabbing Vi’s arm in a desperate attempt to stop her. “What are you doing?”
“I have to—” Vi gags around her fingers, her voice ragged and raw. Sweat beads on her forehead as she pants between dry heaves. “I have to get it out.”
Caitlyn watches helplessly as Vi retches into the bowl. Her stomach twists at the sound and her horror deepens when she sees that nothing substantial comes up. Just the whiskey Caitlyn had poured and whatever meagre remnants of food Vi might have managed for lunch. Vi had likely skipped dinner. Again.
Vi lets out a choked sob, gripping the edge of the toilet bowl so tightly her knuckles turn white. She wavers, her strength faltering, and she slumps forward. Caitlyn instinctively steps closer, her hands hovering uncertainly, unsure how to help without making things worse.
“Vi?” Caitlyn ventures softly, her voice trembling with concern. “Vi, what’s wrong?”
“Just a sec,” Vi rasps, barely audible. She straightens slightly, swiping at her face with the back of her hand. Without warning, she forces her fingers down her throat again, retching violently. Bile and snot streak her face as she coughs, choking on the effort. “Just a sec,” she croaks, her voice breaking. She tries again, determined, her actions frantic.
“Vi, stop!” Caitlyn drops to her knees beside her, grabbing Vi’s arm with both hands, her grip firm yet pleading. “Stop it! Please!”
Vi resists, her body rigid but her energy is waning. Caitlyn can feel her shaking under her touch. There’s a desperation etched into Vi’s expression that she hadn’t seen since the battle for Piltover. The same face she wore upon finding Caitlyn broken and bleeding in the field hospital.
Caitlyn holds on, refusing to let go. Her voice steadying despite the knot tightening in her throat. “Vi, look at me.” Caitlyn urges, her tone gentle but firm. “This isn’t helping. Please, you don’t have to do this.”
Vi’s shoulders slump, and her defiance crumbles under Caitlyn’s words. Her breathing is ragged, her face pale and streaked with tears. She looks at Caitlyn with haunted eyes, filled with shame and fear. “I can’t—” she hiccups roughly and leans back over the toilet bowl with a groan, “I can’t let it stay in me. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“Hush,” Caitlyn presses her lips to Vi’s sweat-soaked hair. “Please, don’t apologise. You don’t have to apologise. I shouldn’t have—My father will know what do to. Do you want me to get him?”
Vi hesitates, her gaze darting between Caitlyn and the toilet bowl. Then, as if the weight of Caitlyn’s presence finally registers, her shoulders sag, and she releases a shuddering breath. “Please,” she mutters, afraid that Caitlyn is going to leave her. More afraid that she’s going to stay.
She lets Caitlyn pull her away from the bowl, collapsing into her arms. “It’s okay,” Caitlyn murmurs, cradling Vi as she shakes. “You’re okay, I’m here. I’m not going to leave you again. I swear it. I'm here.”