[Her eyes blur as she watches the clock slowly tick by the time, but she doesn't sleep. Time slips by without her realizing it, a few times, but none of it is sleep. Her thoughts swirl and thunder like a storm, like the gathering gray.]
[It is not the first time she has slipped out of a shared bed with Caitlyn, by any means, but she was hoping that these nights of near-painful restlessness would slowly improve, becoming less and less over time. Whenever she starts to think she might be settling, might be able to consistently be able to sleep in this Piltover elite house with this Piltover elite girl, the insomnia returns with ferocity.]
[She's careful, slipping bit by bit out of the covers and to the edge of the bed, ready with excuses of bladder or thirst, should she disturb Caitlyn beside her.]
[Caitlyn is honestly reaching the ends of her patience.
Not - she's not angry with Vi, no, far from it. She's concerned, but whenever she's tried to gently probe about Vi's state of being, she's always smoothly brushed off. And she doesn't want to pry or push her - god knows she's pushed enough. The last thing she wants is to push Vi into anything, ever again. But it's obviously a problem, and Caitlyn Kiramman has never been able to sit quietly and just ignore a problem for very long in her life. She's meant to fix them, and it's especially aggravating when it's a problem involving someone she cares so much for - but what is she meant to do, when she's already wronged her so? When pushing had only driven them apart, when ignoring Vi's feelings had been such a catastrophically selfish mistake - she's been trying to allow Vi to set the pace of things, here. Besides, there's been so much to deal with in the aftermath.
But things have started to settle, now, and yet.
She does wake, when Vi shifts, but she doesn't fully rouse. At least not at first. But Vi doesn't pad towards the ensuite, she leaves the room entirely. Caitlyn waits a few beats, arguing with herself on appropriateness, but eventually loses this debate and slinks out after her, one hand lingering on the wall as she navigates until she's more fully awake.]
[Benefits to growing up in the lanes: you're good at navigating by low light. And quietly, for the most part. Vi slips on a hoodie and steps into some shoes with incredible silence, crossing the house to leave out of a side door that is far from Caitlyn's bedroom (she cannot think of it as her own bedroom no matter how often she sleeps there) and that she knows is well oiled, onto a balcony. She shuts it and ensures it's locked, stopping with a sigh as a harsh pang of guilt lances through her.]
[She doesn't like this feeling, like she's doing something wrong, like when she used to sneak out on Vander to go getting up to shit. She's stuck in that frustrating space of kind of knowing what she's doing isn't the right thing, but not fully ready to admit it to herself yet. She's angry, in many directions but mostly at herself. For shutting Caitlyn out, even if she's sure it would be worse to dump all of this on her, and for how that shutting out has made her act. She knows she's distant, and she knows it's making Caitlyn unhappy.]
[She shakes herself like a horse shaking off flies. She climbs up onto the balustrade and from there to the roof, scrambling with her back bent up the slopes until she can get a small running start onto the shed, and the next house over.]
[Caitlyn is much worse at it than she ought to be, padding along in the dark. The anchor of the wall helps for the moment. This is her own goddamned house and yet she's been tripping over things or knocking her hip against end tables in broad daylight. Even with the very reasonable and understandable explanation of missing an eye, it grates on her, this sudden inability to do something so simple.
This becomes even more of an issue once she tails Vi enough to watch her step out onto the balcony, and then start scrabbling and leaping over rooftops as easily as she had that first day back in Zaun. Caitlyn starts to rush after her, hauling herself up onto the roof - but skids to a halt the second the edge comes into view, the steep drop, the distance she can't gauge anymore. Fear tightens her throat, stiffens her legs - she can't chase after her, not like this. Again, again, it grates. She had been trying to learn how to do this, she'd gotten so much more agile with her training, what was the point of any of it--
Alright. Focus. Problem-solve. She's the head of House Kiramman, not a child, she cannot just throw a tantrum for everything she's lost, she has to be functional. Her eye darts, trying to find an alternate route. All right - there, the scaffolding, she can make her way down from here - she looks back to Vi, tracking her to whichever destination she may stop at, before scrambling down and running along street level. Hopping fences or climbing trees are both manageable tasks that won't kill her if she fucks it up; she gains only a few scrapes as she goes and she couldn't care less about it. She's trying not to make a great deal of noise, either, and mostly succeeds - especially when she does reach the building Vi's atop, because this isn't one she owns and her excuses may cover her nonsense if she's caught but god, how embarrassing would that be.
It's not as lithe and stealthy as Vi may be able to achieve, seasoned roof-runner that she is, but Caitlyn does manage to climb her way up quietly enough that they aren't going to be getting the other enforcers called on them, so that's good enough.]
[There's a convenient little steeple on this particular building- a nook formed in the shadow of the tower of a very large chimney- or maybe it's a steam vent. Whatever it was, it had clearly been purposed by a Zaunite at some point in the past, because in Vi's restless wanderings she had found a small table and a painting against the outside wall above it, weathered with time and age and neglect. An image every kid from the fissures knows- Janna's bluebird. It was faded enough that Vi felt confident that whoever used to visit it does no longer, but not so faded that she couldn't restore it with her own limited art skills. She can paint by numbers, and Ekko was supportive when she asked him for the paints and mentioned what it was for.]
[He even made small portraits for her, too, which she has set out on the table along with some other trinkets- glass beads, gathered bird feathers strung and weighed down so they don't fly away in the breeze too prematurely. There are a couple small candles that Caitlyn might recognize as being from her house, now lit between the trinkets and the little palm sized paintings of Felicia, Vander, Jinx, Mylo, and Claggor. Vi sits in front of it, whittling patiently at a bit of wood in her hands, her lips moving but speaking nearly silently.]
[Whatever fleeting sense of accomplishment she may have felt at getting up here in relative quiet is dashed upon the realization that she is intruding on something very private.
She doesn't understand the tokens, at first. The portraits, though, those she recognizes after a moment - she's seen them before, in the same gentle brushstrokes but at a different scale. People who were important to Vi. She knows this, even without knowing who exactly they are, because Jinx is among them. As important as a sister Vi would have died for and never managed to. It no longer matters what, specifically, the beads and feathers mean - she can tell what this is, in whole.
Immediately, her heart's in her throat. The chill of the evening air seems to sharpen and bite at her, especially her hands still clutching the roof shingles. For a moment she's seized with the desire to immediately turn around and slink away - to afford Vi the privacy she was clearly seeking, hopefully without alerting her to Caitlyn's idiot presence at all. Let her grieve in peace. Don't push.
She doesn't. Perhaps it's that stupid, awful Kiramman pride; perhaps it's childish hurt at being shut out. Caitlyn would like to think it's something more altruistic, and she hopes too that it will be looked upon with that intended spirit, because the thought of leaving Vi alone up here makes her want to burst into tears. So she gathers her courage to speak.]
Vi...?
[Very soft, tentative, as she pulls herself up more completely. She keeps a hand at whatever outcropping she can find, half-bent forward, humble and nervous - she's far more anxious about potentially hurting Vi than she is about her own safety, but that isn't entirely absent from her mind.]
I'm - sorry. I was concerned, I didn't think-- [You didn't think at all, she remembers, bites at her own lip. Oh, she hopes this wasn't another terrible mistake.] If I'm intruding - please say so, and I'll leave.
[It speaks both to Caitlyn's ability to be stealthy even in suboptimal situations and also Vi's mental state that she truly does not realize that she's been followed at all. She has eyes and ears only for her tasks- the flickering of flames, the soft sounds of feathers fluttering in the breeze, the sounds of her knife against the wood. Her own voice, whispering to the wind, speaking both to the family she's lost and the goddess she hopes is watching over them.]
[Of course all of this means that she startles horribly when she hears her name spoken, her whole body jerking as she barks an aborted shout of surprise. Her eyes are wide and dark with dilation when she turns them toward the voice.]
Caitlyn? What are you doing-?
[She flinches, suddenly feeling a sharp pain and looks down to see that she's jabbed the point of her knife into the base of her pointer finger. It's bled a bit on her half-carved bird and her pants. She lifts it to her mouth, sucking at it as a means of stopping the bleeding.]
Did you follow me?
[Her tone is difficult to read, especially partly muffled by her hand. She might be impressed, she might be pissed. There's a hollow feeling in her stomach and even Vi isn't sure what it's name is. She takes in a deep breath, puffing her chest, frowning, clearly about to say something harsh, or simply tell her to go... but she lets it all out in a rush of air, seeming to deflate. What good can it do to keep pushing Cait away like this? If that's what she's going to do, then she needs to commit to it, not play all hot-and-cold. She knows that isn't fair. The other girl is here because she's worried. And she was so desperate for answers... this is Vi's own doing.]
[She sighs again, balling her nonbleeding hand into a fist and slowly lifting it, and pressing it down into the tiles next to her, harder and harder until the texture of it imprints into her skin. She looks up into the night sky as she stands up, turns, and wanders over to offer that spare hand over to help Caitlyn finish climbing up.]
Oh -- [Caitlyn flinches, too, when she sees Vi's hurt herself. Again, because of Caitlyn. It's a small thing and yet it feels utterly unforgivable, the last straw on the camel's back - she reaches for her, then lets her hands close on nothing, pulls back. She won't approach, won't touch her, without permission. Presses her lips shut, too, to prevent herself from speaking in her own defense. No excuses, no wheedling. She may not have had the sense to give Vi her space before, but she'll damn well give her the time and quiet she needs to make her own decisions. She can't help her expression being how it is, pained and nervous and contrite, but it's not until Vi reaches for her that Caitlyn allows herself to move again.]
I'm so sorry, [she repeats, even more quietly, as she takes Vi's hand and steps tentatively forward.] I truly didn't mean to interrupt, I didn't know. But I -- [She glances towards the portraits again, words briefly failing her. Like that hand's around her heart. She squeezes Vi's, anyway, gentle but present.]
You supported me, when I was grieving, [Caitlyn murmurs, hating how it sounds like an exchange or obligation, hoping her concern bleeds through enough.] I don't want you feeling like you've got to go through this alone.
[She's not happy about it, being followed, but her edges are all filed down and softened, in this moment. In the see-saw of her feelings, she's leaning toward the side that desperately wants to fill the aching loneliness that's grown inside her. For now, at least.]
I get it.
[Not a dismissal or a full forgiveness, but understanding. She lets their fingers thread together as their hands fall down between them, and holds on firm. She shakes her head, a little, sucking her top lip in between her teeth, playing her tongue against the scar there as she tries to form words.]
I wasn't that good at it, [She says with some humor.] And anyway you don't... owe me anything. I'm kind of difficult and awkward, and grief makes it worse. You don't have to... [Do any of this. Do anything. Invite her in, try to be her family, take care of her, give her things, do things for her. Chase after her when she runs away. She doesn't say any of these, but they trail through her mind like a list. Like a score.]
[She's such a hypocrite.]
I don't really know how to go through things any other way, anymore.
[Sure she's been back out in the world for awhile now, but the sense of isolation, of separation, hasn't left, yet. There hasn't been a chance for things to slow down. For her to really start to relearn how to lean on others. For lack of Caitlyn and even Ekko trying. Vi sighs and rubs at her face, then slowly sits again, pulling Caitlyn down with her.]
[Oh, she hates nearly every word of this. Caitlyn doesn't interrupt - the last thing she wants is to speak over Vi, when she's been so desperate to hear her - but her frown deepens, bit by bit. She sinks down to sit next to Vi when prompted, as close as the other woman will allow her, and she keeps a grip on her hand even when she no longer requires the steadying.]
Violet, [she murmurs, bending slightly to seek out her eyes,] you are in no way difficult. Loving you is one of the easiest things I've ever done. [She twines their fingers together, glancing down at Vi's rugged hand.] You've always been kind and loyal, even when I didn't deserve you.
[She does owe Vi a debt. Vi has given her so much - given the world so much - and received nothing but misery in return. Caitlyn is privileged to be able to try to make her life more comfortable moving forward. It's one of her few duties she doesn't resent. She's thankful for the chance. God knows she doesn't deserve that either.]
I understand how hard it is for you, or why it might be - difficult to trust me, [she continues, more quietly,] and I don't want you to feel as though you have to say or do anything you aren't comfortable with. I only want you to know that I'm here for you, whenever and whatever you may need.
[Their knees press together when they sit, Vi's own legs crossed underneath her. She doesn't let go of Caitlyn's hand, but checks her other one for bleeding. It oozes, just a little, and she sighs and sucks at it some more, eyes still trained downward.]
[A flash of blue on the edges makes her attention flick, and she sees Caitlyn leaning, trying to catch her face. Part of her bristles again, the instinctual reaction to someone trying to see her while she's vulnerable, but she swallows it back. The full given name too much of a surprise to bring her quills back out again. She swallows, feeling dry, and again. Nothing about being arouns Vi, about loving her, is easy, should be easy. It's too incongruous a thought for her to really believe it, no matter how earnest Caitlyn seems.]
[The tangle in her mind ties her tongue into matching knots. What does she even say? What can she say? It's all such a mess, really. All these feelings of deserving or not deserving, the need for penance both women carry with them like a yolk. It might be funny if it wasn't so depressing. Jinx would have laughed about it, at least. The thought makes Vi lift her head more, turning her eyes toward the portraits.]
This is... my family.
[She doesn't know what to say to respond to any of that so she just... doesn't.]
You know my sister. [She touches the edge of the little bit of board with Jinx painted on it. Then Vander, next to her.] That's Vander, our dad. The dad that raised us. We... never really knew our biological dad. Vander took in a lot of us lanes kids. Mylo and Claggor were basically our brothers. [She touches their portraits, on the other side of Jinx's.] And... Mom. [As if it wasn't abundantly obvious who it was, given the bone structure, the bright hair, the look of mischief.] It's probably not a perfect likeness, but Ekko did a good job with my sketches and descriptions.
[In some ways it's a surprise, how many there are. Caitlyn's own family has always been quite small - her mother, her father, herself. Vi had so, so many; three parents, three siblings, and yet she's been left so completely alone. Both the abundance and its heartbreaking loss are unfathomable to her. For a moment the blinding shame of her own inability to cope makes her grow still, looking down at her lap and biting fiercely at her lip, intent on neither speaking nor breathing until she can do so in a controlled, quiet inhale. She cannot make this about her own regrets, she will not interrupt here. Package it up and deal with it later, properly, the way she failed to do so before.
But god, what does she say.]
I'm sorry, [she starts, very small.] I know it - doesn't help, being told that. But I am.
[Unimaginably and endlessly sorry, for everything, for always. She takes another breath, tries again.] Vander and your siblings - Mylo, Claggor, Powder-- [She allows the original name, with only a barely-there pause.] I saw them on the Firelights' mural. I hadn't gotten to see your mother, until now.
[She'd known this, hadn't she. That Vi had lost her mother. Both her parents. To enforcers, apparently. What a godawful mess she's made. Tentatively, she encloses Vi's rugged hand in both of hers.] I can see the resemblance, [she murmurs, eyes flicking up again to guiltily trace the curves of the woman's face.]
[The silence doesn't bother, and Vi is too busy in her own head to notice at all that Caitlyn is struggling with it. Vi isn't even sure how much time passes, really. She feels a little bit like she's underwater.]
It's okay. There isn't really much else to say. Acknowledging that it sucks is... [She trails off and shrugs. It's hard to put into words, just like everything else about grief.]
[The mention of the mural pulls a damp sort of smile to her face, and she nods.] It's really something, right? They're talented kids, the 'lights, and it's... remembering them, it's all we can do, right? Honor that memory, try to survive, for their sakes. They'd want us to. Ekko doesn't remember mom at all. Even Powder was too young to really remember much about her. Vander talked about her, sometimes, but it was really hard on him, losing her. I learned to stop asking very often. I think they were like, platonic soul mates or something. [The teasing of it lightens the burden of the words, and she lets out a breath again, trying to release the tension and the hurt, trying to keep it together, somewhat. She doesn't quite feel right about falling absolutely to pieces right now, here, in front of Caitlyn. She does turn that watery smile, meeting Caitlyn's eyes.]
Yeah? Vander always said I got her face and her hard head. [Her smile widens just a little bit, until it barely starts being uneven.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
[Her eyes blur as she watches the clock slowly tick by the time, but she doesn't sleep. Time slips by without her realizing it, a few times, but none of it is sleep. Her thoughts swirl and thunder like a storm, like the gathering gray.]
[It is not the first time she has slipped out of a shared bed with Caitlyn, by any means, but she was hoping that these nights of near-painful restlessness would slowly improve, becoming less and less over time. Whenever she starts to think she might be settling, might be able to consistently be able to sleep in this Piltover elite house with this Piltover elite girl, the insomnia returns with ferocity.]
[She's careful, slipping bit by bit out of the covers and to the edge of the bed, ready with excuses of bladder or thirst, should she disturb Caitlyn beside her.]
no subject
Not - she's not angry with Vi, no, far from it. She's concerned, but whenever she's tried to gently probe about Vi's state of being, she's always smoothly brushed off. And she doesn't want to pry or push her - god knows she's pushed enough. The last thing she wants is to push Vi into anything, ever again. But it's obviously a problem, and Caitlyn Kiramman has never been able to sit quietly and just ignore a problem for very long in her life. She's meant to fix them, and it's especially aggravating when it's a problem involving someone she cares so much for - but what is she meant to do, when she's already wronged her so? When pushing had only driven them apart, when ignoring Vi's feelings had been such a catastrophically selfish mistake - she's been trying to allow Vi to set the pace of things, here. Besides, there's been so much to deal with in the aftermath.
But things have started to settle, now, and yet.
She does wake, when Vi shifts, but she doesn't fully rouse. At least not at first. But Vi doesn't pad towards the ensuite, she leaves the room entirely. Caitlyn waits a few beats, arguing with herself on appropriateness, but eventually loses this debate and slinks out after her, one hand lingering on the wall as she navigates until she's more fully awake.]
no subject
[Benefits to growing up in the lanes: you're good at navigating by low light. And quietly, for the most part. Vi slips on a hoodie and steps into some shoes with incredible silence, crossing the house to leave out of a side door that is far from Caitlyn's bedroom (she cannot think of it as her own bedroom no matter how often she sleeps there) and that she knows is well oiled, onto a balcony. She shuts it and ensures it's locked, stopping with a sigh as a harsh pang of guilt lances through her.]
[She doesn't like this feeling, like she's doing something wrong, like when she used to sneak out on Vander to go getting up to shit. She's stuck in that frustrating space of kind of knowing what she's doing isn't the right thing, but not fully ready to admit it to herself yet. She's angry, in many directions but mostly at herself. For shutting Caitlyn out, even if she's sure it would be worse to dump all of this on her, and for how that shutting out has made her act. She knows she's distant, and she knows it's making Caitlyn unhappy.]
[She shakes herself like a horse shaking off flies. She climbs up onto the balustrade and from there to the roof, scrambling with her back bent up the slopes until she can get a small running start onto the shed, and the next house over.]
no subject
This becomes even more of an issue once she tails Vi enough to watch her step out onto the balcony, and then start scrabbling and leaping over rooftops as easily as she had that first day back in Zaun. Caitlyn starts to rush after her, hauling herself up onto the roof - but skids to a halt the second the edge comes into view, the steep drop, the distance she can't gauge anymore. Fear tightens her throat, stiffens her legs - she can't chase after her, not like this. Again, again, it grates. She had been trying to learn how to do this, she'd gotten so much more agile with her training, what was the point of any of it--
Alright. Focus. Problem-solve. She's the head of House Kiramman, not a child, she cannot just throw a tantrum for everything she's lost, she has to be functional. Her eye darts, trying to find an alternate route. All right - there, the scaffolding, she can make her way down from here - she looks back to Vi, tracking her to whichever destination she may stop at, before scrambling down and running along street level. Hopping fences or climbing trees are both manageable tasks that won't kill her if she fucks it up; she gains only a few scrapes as she goes and she couldn't care less about it. She's trying not to make a great deal of noise, either, and mostly succeeds - especially when she does reach the building Vi's atop, because this isn't one she owns and her excuses may cover her nonsense if she's caught but god, how embarrassing would that be.
It's not as lithe and stealthy as Vi may be able to achieve, seasoned roof-runner that she is, but Caitlyn does manage to climb her way up quietly enough that they aren't going to be getting the other enforcers called on them, so that's good enough.]
no subject
[There's a convenient little steeple on this particular building- a nook formed in the shadow of the tower of a very large chimney- or maybe it's a steam vent. Whatever it was, it had clearly been purposed by a Zaunite at some point in the past, because in Vi's restless wanderings she had found a small table and a painting against the outside wall above it, weathered with time and age and neglect. An image every kid from the fissures knows- Janna's bluebird. It was faded enough that Vi felt confident that whoever used to visit it does no longer, but not so faded that she couldn't restore it with her own limited art skills. She can paint by numbers, and Ekko was supportive when she asked him for the paints and mentioned what it was for.]
[He even made small portraits for her, too, which she has set out on the table along with some other trinkets- glass beads, gathered bird feathers strung and weighed down so they don't fly away in the breeze too prematurely. There are a couple small candles that Caitlyn might recognize as being from her house, now lit between the trinkets and the little palm sized paintings of Felicia, Vander, Jinx, Mylo, and Claggor. Vi sits in front of it, whittling patiently at a bit of wood in her hands, her lips moving but speaking nearly silently.]
no subject
She doesn't understand the tokens, at first. The portraits, though, those she recognizes after a moment - she's seen them before, in the same gentle brushstrokes but at a different scale. People who were important to Vi. She knows this, even without knowing who exactly they are, because Jinx is among them. As important as a sister Vi would have died for and never managed to. It no longer matters what, specifically, the beads and feathers mean - she can tell what this is, in whole.
Immediately, her heart's in her throat. The chill of the evening air seems to sharpen and bite at her, especially her hands still clutching the roof shingles. For a moment she's seized with the desire to immediately turn around and slink away - to afford Vi the privacy she was clearly seeking, hopefully without alerting her to Caitlyn's idiot presence at all. Let her grieve in peace. Don't push.
She doesn't. Perhaps it's that stupid, awful Kiramman pride; perhaps it's childish hurt at being shut out. Caitlyn would like to think it's something more altruistic, and she hopes too that it will be looked upon with that intended spirit, because the thought of leaving Vi alone up here makes her want to burst into tears. So she gathers her courage to speak.]
Vi...?
[Very soft, tentative, as she pulls herself up more completely. She keeps a hand at whatever outcropping she can find, half-bent forward, humble and nervous - she's far more anxious about potentially hurting Vi than she is about her own safety, but that isn't entirely absent from her mind.]
I'm - sorry. I was concerned, I didn't think-- [You didn't think at all, she remembers, bites at her own lip. Oh, she hopes this wasn't another terrible mistake.] If I'm intruding - please say so, and I'll leave.
no subject
[It speaks both to Caitlyn's ability to be stealthy even in suboptimal situations and also Vi's mental state that she truly does not realize that she's been followed at all. She has eyes and ears only for her tasks- the flickering of flames, the soft sounds of feathers fluttering in the breeze, the sounds of her knife against the wood. Her own voice, whispering to the wind, speaking both to the family she's lost and the goddess she hopes is watching over them.]
[Of course all of this means that she startles horribly when she hears her name spoken, her whole body jerking as she barks an aborted shout of surprise. Her eyes are wide and dark with dilation when she turns them toward the voice.]
Caitlyn? What are you doing-?
[She flinches, suddenly feeling a sharp pain and looks down to see that she's jabbed the point of her knife into the base of her pointer finger. It's bled a bit on her half-carved bird and her pants. She lifts it to her mouth, sucking at it as a means of stopping the bleeding.]
Did you follow me?
[Her tone is difficult to read, especially partly muffled by her hand. She might be impressed, she might be pissed. There's a hollow feeling in her stomach and even Vi isn't sure what it's name is. She takes in a deep breath, puffing her chest, frowning, clearly about to say something harsh, or simply tell her to go... but she lets it all out in a rush of air, seeming to deflate. What good can it do to keep pushing Cait away like this? If that's what she's going to do, then she needs to commit to it, not play all hot-and-cold. She knows that isn't fair. The other girl is here because she's worried. And she was so desperate for answers... this is Vi's own doing.]
[She sighs again, balling her nonbleeding hand into a fist and slowly lifting it, and pressing it down into the tiles next to her, harder and harder until the texture of it imprints into her skin. She looks up into the night sky as she stands up, turns, and wanders over to offer that spare hand over to help Caitlyn finish climbing up.]
no subject
I'm so sorry, [she repeats, even more quietly, as she takes Vi's hand and steps tentatively forward.] I truly didn't mean to interrupt, I didn't know. But I -- [She glances towards the portraits again, words briefly failing her. Like that hand's around her heart. She squeezes Vi's, anyway, gentle but present.]
You supported me, when I was grieving, [Caitlyn murmurs, hating how it sounds like an exchange or obligation, hoping her concern bleeds through enough.] I don't want you feeling like you've got to go through this alone.
no subject
[She's not happy about it, being followed, but her edges are all filed down and softened, in this moment. In the see-saw of her feelings, she's leaning toward the side that desperately wants to fill the aching loneliness that's grown inside her. For now, at least.]
I get it.
[Not a dismissal or a full forgiveness, but understanding. She lets their fingers thread together as their hands fall down between them, and holds on firm. She shakes her head, a little, sucking her top lip in between her teeth, playing her tongue against the scar there as she tries to form words.]
I wasn't that good at it, [She says with some humor.] And anyway you don't... owe me anything. I'm kind of difficult and awkward, and grief makes it worse. You don't have to... [Do any of this. Do anything. Invite her in, try to be her family, take care of her, give her things, do things for her. Chase after her when she runs away. She doesn't say any of these, but they trail through her mind like a list. Like a score.]
[She's such a hypocrite.]
I don't really know how to go through things any other way, anymore.
[Sure she's been back out in the world for awhile now, but the sense of isolation, of separation, hasn't left, yet. There hasn't been a chance for things to slow down. For her to really start to relearn how to lean on others. For lack of Caitlyn and even Ekko trying. Vi sighs and rubs at her face, then slowly sits again, pulling Caitlyn down with her.]
no subject
Violet, [she murmurs, bending slightly to seek out her eyes,] you are in no way difficult. Loving you is one of the easiest things I've ever done. [She twines their fingers together, glancing down at Vi's rugged hand.] You've always been kind and loyal, even when I didn't deserve you.
[She does owe Vi a debt. Vi has given her so much - given the world so much - and received nothing but misery in return. Caitlyn is privileged to be able to try to make her life more comfortable moving forward. It's one of her few duties she doesn't resent. She's thankful for the chance. God knows she doesn't deserve that either.]
I understand how hard it is for you, or why it might be - difficult to trust me, [she continues, more quietly,] and I don't want you to feel as though you have to say or do anything you aren't comfortable with. I only want you to know that I'm here for you, whenever and whatever you may need.
no subject
[Their knees press together when they sit, Vi's own legs crossed underneath her. She doesn't let go of Caitlyn's hand, but checks her other one for bleeding. It oozes, just a little, and she sighs and sucks at it some more, eyes still trained downward.]
[A flash of blue on the edges makes her attention flick, and she sees Caitlyn leaning, trying to catch her face. Part of her bristles again, the instinctual reaction to someone trying to see her while she's vulnerable, but she swallows it back. The full given name too much of a surprise to bring her quills back out again. She swallows, feeling dry, and again. Nothing about being arouns Vi, about loving her, is easy, should be easy. It's too incongruous a thought for her to really believe it, no matter how earnest Caitlyn seems.]
[The tangle in her mind ties her tongue into matching knots. What does she even say? What can she say? It's all such a mess, really. All these feelings of deserving or not deserving, the need for penance both women carry with them like a yolk. It might be funny if it wasn't so depressing. Jinx would have laughed about it, at least. The thought makes Vi lift her head more, turning her eyes toward the portraits.]
This is... my family.
[She doesn't know what to say to respond to any of that so she just... doesn't.]
You know my sister. [She touches the edge of the little bit of board with Jinx painted on it. Then Vander, next to her.] That's Vander, our dad. The dad that raised us. We... never really knew our biological dad. Vander took in a lot of us lanes kids. Mylo and Claggor were basically our brothers. [She touches their portraits, on the other side of Jinx's.] And... Mom. [As if it wasn't abundantly obvious who it was, given the bone structure, the bright hair, the look of mischief.] It's probably not a perfect likeness, but Ekko did a good job with my sketches and descriptions.
no subject
But god, what does she say.]
I'm sorry, [she starts, very small.] I know it - doesn't help, being told that. But I am.
[Unimaginably and endlessly sorry, for everything, for always. She takes another breath, tries again.] Vander and your siblings - Mylo, Claggor, Powder-- [She allows the original name, with only a barely-there pause.] I saw them on the Firelights' mural. I hadn't gotten to see your mother, until now.
[She'd known this, hadn't she. That Vi had lost her mother. Both her parents. To enforcers, apparently. What a godawful mess she's made. Tentatively, she encloses Vi's rugged hand in both of hers.] I can see the resemblance, [she murmurs, eyes flicking up again to guiltily trace the curves of the woman's face.]
no subject
[The silence doesn't bother, and Vi is too busy in her own head to notice at all that Caitlyn is struggling with it. Vi isn't even sure how much time passes, really. She feels a little bit like she's underwater.]
It's okay. There isn't really much else to say. Acknowledging that it sucks is... [She trails off and shrugs. It's hard to put into words, just like everything else about grief.]
[The mention of the mural pulls a damp sort of smile to her face, and she nods.] It's really something, right? They're talented kids, the 'lights, and it's... remembering them, it's all we can do, right? Honor that memory, try to survive, for their sakes. They'd want us to. Ekko doesn't remember mom at all. Even Powder was too young to really remember much about her. Vander talked about her, sometimes, but it was really hard on him, losing her. I learned to stop asking very often. I think they were like, platonic soul mates or something. [The teasing of it lightens the burden of the words, and she lets out a breath again, trying to release the tension and the hurt, trying to keep it together, somewhat. She doesn't quite feel right about falling absolutely to pieces right now, here, in front of Caitlyn. She does turn that watery smile, meeting Caitlyn's eyes.]
Yeah? Vander always said I got her face and her hard head. [Her smile widens just a little bit, until it barely starts being uneven.]