I'm gnashing my teeth
Like a child of Cain
If this is a prison, I'm willing to buy my own chain
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The Firelights have to pester Vi even more than they had to pester Ekko to get her to take a break that evening. When they finally succeed, she detours to punch the wall and scowls when everyone's heads turn. I follow her into the fort.
There's not much room in here lengthwise, but they raised the upright cot to its full height, so we can both sit straight with our legs tucked in. She's not pleased when she realizes I'm beside her.
"You're supposed to be behind the wall," she says. "If anyone gets in, they'll shoot this thing up first."
"Is that why you didn't want to rest?"
The question seems to deeply offend her. "No. I don't like sitting on my ass when there's important shit to be doing, like aiding a coup."
"How can you aid a coup if you're exhausted?"
"I can handle a couple days without sleep. It's not like it's hard."
Her fists clench and unclench on her knees. She and Ekko eventually washed up at the sink in the corner and changed their bloody clothes, but the incident with the wall just now has made some of her own blood appear on her taped hands.
"What would happen if you went a couple days without hitting something?" I ask. "Would you explode?"
That softens her expression a bit. "Probably."
Outside, they're telling funny stories about Snake, and their overlapping comments and laughter are loud enough that I feel comfortable asking, "Why do you like it so much? Hitting, I mean. I understand why you would feel the need with opponents, but that was a stone wall. It doesn't fix anything— all it does is hurt you."
Vi's gaze shifts to the floor.
My stomach drops. "Is that the point?" I ask. "To hurt you?"
She shrugs.
"Why?"
"I don't know," she mumbles. "Feels like comeuppance, I guess. It's the same with opponents sometimes. It's like I'm paying my debt."
Her debt for what she did to Powder? Shit.
"That isn't healthy," I say.
"Wow, doc," she says. "You're real fucking smart, aren't you?"
We look at each other. Some of the purple strands in her eyes have disappeared.
"I'm sorry for being condescending," I say after a moment. "Of course you knew that already. But you don't have to be so severe."
"Because you're better than me and I owe you my respect, is that it?"
It seems she's going to maintain a complex about that for a while, despite what I said the other night. I can't blame her. "Because I'm not better than you," I say. "Because I care about you, and I never mean to attack you."
She looks at the ground again, waiting out a quieter stretch of conversation outside. I watch her.
"I'm sorry," she mutters.
I pick up her hand, gently, and draw it toward me to kiss her bloody knuckles. Her eyes widen and move to mine, uncomprehending; her fingers are curled loosely, and I hold still for a moment, feeling the coarse fabric against my lips, until she suddenly tenses and tears her hand away.
"I'm sorry," she says again, cradling her fist against her stomach as though I hurt it. Did I? How could I have? "I should have protected you yesterday."
"What do you mean? You took down a dozen guards that were threatening me in two seconds. You protected me better than anyone ever has."
"Except from the warden."
"The warden wasn't after me," I say. "He was after you."
"But he would've gone after you when he was finished with me. I don't know what happened— it must have been some leftover side effect of the tranquilizer or something."
"You were afraid," I say.
She disguises a wince. "No, I wasn't. When I'm afraid, I grow the hell up and do what I have to do anyway. I don't freeze."
"Perhaps you haven't been that afraid before."
I've offended her again, but I'm not sure what I can do about it aside from not saying anything. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"You told me that you weren't allowed to fight back when the guards abused you, or else you would be killed. A part of your brain remembered that when you were faced with him again. It did what it always did to keep you alive. That's what happens with trauma."
"I wasn't traumatized."
I haven't a clue how to respond to that.
She changes positions so we're no longer facing each other. "I get it if what he said changed how you feel about me. I never meant for you to know that stuff. Just tell me now, all right? I don't want to wonder all the time."
"The warden? What did he say?" I ask. "The part where you don't follow the laws of a civilized nation? I know that's bullshit."
She pulls back the edge of the bedroll under us and rubs her injured knuckles hard against the tile. "I meant the 'curled up on the floor and begging' part."
"I don't understand," I say.
"Don't play that card with me, Caitlyn."
"I'm not playing a card." I try to hide my exasperation.
"That's cute," she says, pressing her fist down harder. "You don't understand why knowing that I curl up on floors and beg when I get hurt might make people think less of me? Really?"
"Really," I say. "I understand why it would make you feel ashamed— even though you'd be wrong— but why should it bother me? It's not as though it caused anyone any harm. Do you think I wouldn't do the same in your place?"
She scoffs. "You're you, and I'm me."
"How else is one supposed to react to being beaten to near-death? We're all equal at that point."
Her other fist starts rubbing the floor too.
"Being afraid and feeling pain aren't things to feel badly about," I say. "Why do you always seem to feel so badly about them?"
"Because it's not like I have much else to offer besides being the muscle, so if I can't even pull that off..."
"That's ridiculous," I say. "That's just ridiculous. There are so many other things about you that actually matter—"
A shrill whistle sounds, making everyone outside switch from melancholy laughter to anxious chattering. I scramble out of the fort without another thought and find them prodding at the equipment around my mum, then exclaiming. I push through Ekko and Tei.
Mum's eyes are open and panicked, flickering between four unfamiliar faces and the hands reaching around and across her. Ekko's comm blares with a physician claiming to be en route. Jayce and Viktor are coming around their wall.
"Mum," I say, and her gaze alights on me, relieved first and then doubly terrified. "It's okay," I say, and Quartz passes over a cup of water they must have gotten from the doctor's cart. I help Mum take a sip and she immediately asks, "What is this? My arm..."
"The Council building was bombed five days ago," I say. "You're the only surviving councilor. You've been comatose, and they had to amputate your arm and your leg."
"But who...? These people..."
"We're leading a coup," Ekko says. He washed off his face paint earlier and never reapplied it, so he looks like any kid plucked from the streets, which seems to disorient my mum. "You're safe, but you're being held hostage."
"Caitlyn," Mum says, attempting to sit up. Lenara gently pushes her down. "Oh, my darling. How on earth were you dragged into this? Have they hurt you? Caitlyn has no political influence," she adds to the Firelights. "Set her free. If you want a coup, you don't need her."
"Mum, it's all right," I say. In my peripherals, Vi emerges from the fort, and Mum looks at her between Ekko and Tei.
"Her!" she says, and coughs a few times. Vi pauses a few feet back, eyeing me in question. "Caitlyn, I told you it was a bad idea to associate with these people. What did she do? Did she threaten you?"
"No!" I say, moving to block Vi— as if a bedridden, middle-aged woman who doesn't even do her own washing is a threat to her. "It's not like that. She didn't do anything. I'm okay."
"Then why are you here?"
"Because I'm...," I start, and it hits me all at once.
I impersonated an officer and forged a signature to free a prisoner I knew was dangerous. I helped protect the worst felon in all of Piltover, who is responsible for assassinating almost the entire Council, for days. I designed and led my own squadron into an ambush and am now illegally detaining them. I went to Stillwater to attempt to free Jinx, and in the process, I murdered the warden. I came to support the usurping of the last councilor, my own mother.
I fell in love with a stray.
"Caitlyn?"
I blink, unable to clear my head. In a week, I have gone from Councilor Kiramman's precious daughter to a legitimate outlaw. And I'm happier than I've ever been.
There's a series of bangs on the door. "This is the physician and his team," someone shouts. "Let us in immediately."
I look to Jayce and we approach the door while Mum stammers in confusion and Ekko calls, "Caitlyn Kiramman and Jayce Talis will let you in and ensure that you brought no soldiers or weapons. Keep your hands up until I tell you to proceed."
We move the cots and Jayce opens the door, insisting I stand back. There are three doctors in the hall, hands in the air, and I ignore Jayce and duck my head out to look past them. All clear. We search their cart and let them in.
The Firelights assemble around Mum like before, pistols drawn; I join them and stroke her hair while the doctors work, checking her vitals and her cognizance and her bullet wound. In the meantime, Ekko explains his scheme and the last twenty-four hours in detail, leaving out Jinx and Sixteen and me for the time being. He probably doesn't want to give her a heart attack. As he speaks, Mum's eyes stay on me, and Vi's hand stays on my shoulder.
"You may not have your conference today," says the lead physician, the one Vi knocked out this morning. "Allow her to rest for the night. You can try tomorrow."
"Understood," says Ekko. "We need one thing, however: Councilor Kiramman will verbally back our terms with the three of you as witnesses. It will be broadcast— help her put this on." He passes the doctor his comm.
Mum keeps watching me as she tells the city, "This is Councilor Cassandra Kiramman. I ask you all to continue following the Firelights' instructions. There is to be no aggression whatsoever in the Undercity or in Stillwater prison, and you must not threaten this chamber or anyone in it. This decree lasts until further notice."
She pulls the comm off and the doctor gives it back to Ekko. The others chase them out after we're warned of the alerts we're expected to respond to.
In the ensuing silence, my mum looks at me and begins to cry.
"Mum," I say. "Mum, it's all right, I promise. I won't let anyone hurt you."
"Why are you here, Caitie? Why are you with these malefactors?"
She knows why already, but I answer anyway.
"Because I've joined them," I say. "I believe in the revolution."
Everyone stays quiet, watching us. Vi moves her hand into mine.
"I am your mother," the councilor says.
"I know," I say. "But these are your people. They deserve to be free."
She shakes her head. "This is a betrayal for which I will never forgive you. You are no daughter of mine."
"I understand," I say, but I don't say I'm sorry. To turn around now would be a betrayal too. To everyone else in this room, and to everyone in the Undercity.
And as much as I want her forgiveness, there is only one betrayal I couldn't forgive myself for— and it isn't this one.
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Intro lyrics from "Salt In The Wound" by boygenius.
i love Caitlyn's evolution so much. she's such a treasure. and of course Vi is out here with another one of her innumerable complexes. she's so tiring i Cannot express how much i adore her come here baby have a hug
tankz for reading <3 :)