#jayvik drabble

So this was supposed to be a fic directly inspired by the tags @rio-19 left on an ask for @warmblanketwhump that I can’t find now. But I know I’m not going to finish it so here, have some JayVik post-canon angst <3

Viktor knows the nightmares are his fault. Of course they are. Jayce won’t say it, but it’s obvious what he’s dreaming about when he claws at the bedsheets and gnashes his teeth. When he shakes and sweats through to the mattress, his muscles tensed so stiff that in the morning Viktor can tell he aches because of it. He knows this, because the next day Jayce’s limp will be worse. Not that Jayce is complaining about that either - Viktor’s not sure if Jayce doesn’t want to admit to the pain or if he simply chooses to ignore it - he just runs his fingers up and down his leg, taking tiny sharp inhalations when he presses too hard on those tender nerves that never really healed.

“Jayce?”

There’s no answer. Viktor leans forward, peering over him with worry. He doesn’t know what Jayce is seeing, not really. It was a different version of him, an old man that Viktor can’t picture, because he never thought he would live that long. And yet. Here he is, lying in bed - their bed - the sound of the bubbling stream that runs past their cottage blending with the rushing blood in his head. He can hear his own heart sometimes: steady. Mechanical. Human. An inexplicable combination of both.

Jayce whimpers in his sleep, and Viktor can see tiny beads of sweat dotting his forehead in little light that flickers through their bedroom window. Viktor lifts one arm and wipes Jayce’s skin with his bare hand, flesh and metal touching flesh and blood. They don’t really know what, exactly, Viktor’s body is anymore. More human than mechanical being, sure, but he still has traces of purple lines that glint metallic in the sun. His skin is harder than it should be, and sometimes a flash of the arcane makes itself known in pale eyes and glittering veins. They don’t know how to use that part of Viktor either, but they’ll figure it out eventually. They have time now, after all. And there were other things at the forefront of their mind when they realized they had, somehow, been given a second undeserved chance at happiness. Even if this is all just a hallucination, Viktor worries sometimes, or even the afterlife, it doesn’t matter as long as they get to stay together.

But in Jayce’s nightmares, he’s all alone. Jayce doesn’t talk about them much, but over time Viktor has pieced together a vague image of desperation. Of piercing cold, aching hunger, and the madness that forced isolation brings on terrifyingly quickly. Viktor can see it play out live behind Jayce’s eyes each time Jayce grabs his forearm and says with a sob of relief, “You’re still here.”

pls <3

Viktor loved the farmers market.

It was his favorite thing in this little grassy land town, besides the fact he and Jayce were accepted into the population with no question at all. The market reminded him of early Zaun, of being carried on his mother's and father's back, as they shopped in the small stalls of the lanes.

When he got older those trips died, both due to their increase in workload and the increase in enforcers, and he hadn't realized how much he missed it.

This shopping trip wasn't for anything important. They had enough seeds and small plants in their garden for herbs and vegetables, their chickens had been producing enough eggs, and Betsy gave them enough milk to make butter and cheese.

So, this was what Jayce liked to call a "sweet treat" trip.

One of the first booths was a little pottery sale, bowls, plates, pots. Viktor stopped, shouldering his tote, and picked up a small bowl. It was cute, made from clay and painted in blues and greens. With a start, he jumped, and held up the bowl to Jayce when he realized what shape it was.

"Jayce, look!" He said, holding it in front of his partner's eyes. "A turtle bowl!"

Jayce took it from him, rolling it in his hands. "Cute," he decided. "What would we put it in though? We only have one set of keys, and we put those on a hook."

Oh yes, their key hook, which they'd also found at an antique store. Whenever you hung something, it would lower the mechanism, and a cat would pop out! Jayce had refurbished it to be like new, turning the cat from rusted white to orange. He said it matched their personalities.

A million different uses passed through his mind. Coins, nails and screws, ticket stubs from their trips to the theatre, all other small things. They had a ton of stuff lying around they could put in the small bowl.

"We could use it for things, Jayce!" He argued. "We have many things lying around that could fit in it."

Jayce looked at him from the corners of his eyes. "We could always organize our things?"

Viktor blinked at Jayce.

Jayce blinked back.

His partner turned to the owner, handing over the bowl. "We'll take this." Viktor beamed, wrapping his hand around Jayce's elbow. His partner kissed the side of his head, then leaned, plucking up a teapot. "This one is fun," he said, showing it to Viktor. "Elephant."

It was fun. It was bright blue, molded into the shape of the animal, with the nose acting as the spout and the head as the lid. Two large ears stuck out from the side. It matched none of their dinnerware. Nodding, with an even bigger smile, Jayce handed the teapot over.

"This one as well."

They watched as the woman running the booth beamed, wrapping the item in newspaper and tying it up gently. She slid her card into one of the folds, then wrapped it in a large cloth, tying up the ends. Jayce handed her a wad of cash.

"Thank you!" She smiled, as she traded the items for the money. "By the way, the cloths I wrapped your things in have many uses. I use them as napkins, I wrap breads in them, I use them to decorate. They're scraps from my quilting."

Viktor carefully placed both at the bottom of his tote, placing his own protective cloth he kept inside over them. He watched as she calculated their change, handing over the rest of the bills, and nodded at them both.

"Do you sell quilts as well?" Viktor asked. "I quite like your clay, as you can see."

"I only do commission work," she told him. "My address is on my card. I run a shared shop with a few other creators. You can stop by any time and place an order for a design. Takes me two weeks to a month."

Jayce pocketed the rest of their money back in his wallet, dropping it in his own bag as he wrapped an arm around Viktor's waist. "We will certainly stop by this week. We're needing a new quilt for the winter. Do you do any design?"

"I try!" She said. "I've done dragons, chevron patterns, swirls, suns and moons, you name it! If I can find the fabric, I can do it!"

"That is wonderful." Viktor stepped aside with Jayce, allowing more people under the tent and into the booth. "We cannot wait. Thank you again!"

"You're welcome!" She waved, as he and Jayce walked down the path again. Jayce leaned into him, smiling, and rubbed his back up and down as they passed multiple soap and candle booths. That was Jayce's no for today-they had three baskets full and did not need any more.

"What kind of quilt were you thinking?" Jayce asked him. "I kind of want something celestial. Stars, planets, the like."

Viktor hummed in agreement. "It will look nice, I think. Perhaps we can find fabric for her, if she uses outside sources. Maybe real constellations."

"Won't match anything in our bedroom, though."

Viktor nudged him gently in the ribs, grinning when Jayce peered down at him. "We just bought a turtle bowl and elephant tea pot," he said. "Neither of which match the flower plates we have been using or the marble-green tea cups."

After the delirium of taking care of a newborn starts to fade and they can have civilized conversations again that aren’t derailed by sleep deprivation and don’t revolve around bottles or diapers, they start trying to figure out where her hair came from. When Jayce starts asking his mom, she tells him that no one in her family has ever had red hair, and that she doesn’t know of anyone in his dad’s family that did either. Viktor can’t remember anyone from his childhood with red hair who he was actually related to.

Eventually the conversation fizzles out until several years later when they take a trip down to the entresol to see Viktor’s elderly aunt for the first time since their daughter (Vivian) was born. As soon as she sees her she goes “Oh, another one!” Jayce and Viktor are both confused and share a look, then she continues “my brother was a ginger. I always thought you’d be the next one, Vitya. Your mother had the worst heart burn when she was pregnant with you, I was just sure you were gonna turn out a red head.” Jayce is immediately interested in hearing more about this theory because he nearly burned a hole in his esophagus while pregnant with Viv but had never heard that wives tale.

Jayce is always making noise. He’s tapping his pen against the desk, he’s smacking gum, he’s shaking his leg, he’s mumbling to himself, he’s sighing really loudly, he’s scratching the table. ANYTHING but being still and quiet.

Viktor’s desk is facing away from Jayce and everything else in the room out of his periphery. Just seeing Jayce’s leg shaking is overstimulating sometimes. He keeps a pair of noise dampening ear muffs at his desk when he’s really trying to do something and Jayce’s constant noise is fucking him up.

Viktor has to teach Jayce how to make his coffee cause if he doesn’t do it right and it tastes different. Viktor tries to grin and bear it for a few months but eventually his leg is not willing to let him get up every time he wants coffee so he gets Jayce to come watch how he makes it (half the cup up coffee, sugar to the count of three, stirred thoroughly, sweet milk up to the top of the handle, then topped the rest of the way up with coffee) Viktor eventually realizes that Jayce has started making his coffee in a similar order but with way less sugar and milk to remind himself to make Viktor’s right

Jayce had a spinning stool when they first started. He made himself throw up from spinning and had to go home. He no longer has a spinning stool.

Jayce constantly tries to start sentences in the middle of writing out equations and Viktor has to get him to stfu until he finishes bc he’s tired of having to resolve all of Jayce’s math.

Everybody loves you, baby / You should trademark your face / Linin' down the block to be around you / But, baby, I'm first in place

Give me a call if you ever get lonely / I'll be like one of your girls or your homies / Say what you want, and I'll keep it a secret / You get the key to my heart, and I need it / Give me a call if you ever get desperate / I'll be like one of your girls

Meanwhile Jayce is just

—

Just like that, it’s all over.

But instead of the end — instead of nothingness — Jayce realises that he is looking up at the sky.

His fingers are hesitant as they bury into the grass at his side, hands brushing the soft green blades as he turns his head to see flowers.

He’s lying in a field, a meadow, and he isn’t alone.

“Jayce?” the voice speaks out from the other side of him, accent unmistakable as Viktor’s fingers reach out for the comfort of his hand.

Jayce’s head rolls to the other side, eyes still disbelieving as they run across the sky again, all soft clouds and bright, hopeful blue. Then they land on Viktor — his Viktor — exactly how he had been all those years ago. Before he got sick. Before he died and then died again. Before all of this.

“W-where are we?” he asks, compliant when Viktor laces his fingers through his.

Viktor closes his eyes, his face turning away to feel the warmth of the sun on his skin. “Somewhere… else.”

“But we’re not… dead?”

Viktor smiles then, soft and gentle. Without opening his eyes, he shakes his head. “No. We are… simply away. Somewhere different.”

Jayce’s brow furrows and he sits up, his hand slipping from Viktors as he glances around. He can see Piltover in the distance, the city standing so proudly in one piece — whole — as though none of the horrors he had witnessed there had ever happened.

“But where, Viktor? How? Why?”

Viktor’s eyes peel open and he pushes himself up onto his elbows with a slight frown. He sighs, looking only at Jayce as he sits himself up. “I suppose we are… somewhere I died before… before I could do any damage.”

Jayce’s eyes widen then, his hand already darting out to hold Viktor’s again. He doesn’t want to lose him, not again.

But Viktor pulls away, turning his attention back to the clear sky above. “Or maybe just a world without Hextech. A world where your lab didn’t blow up. A world in which we never met.”

But it couldn’t be true. A world where their paths had never crossed could not be this perfect, this peaceful. There would still be destruction. There would still be an oppressed undercity, still sickness and criminality and death. But here, amongst the flowers with Viktor, everything was perfect.

“We’ll be alright… won’t we?” Jayce asked and Viktor smiled, a slow, gentle thing that crept onto his face before he turned back to his partner.