Fandom: Arcane (League of Legends)
Rating: G
Characters/relationships: Vi/Caitlyn (pre-relationship)
Warnings: Dialogue-only, mentions of canon-typical events.
Summary:
Vi has been fighting all her life. She has no shame in it, but she's pretty sure that it shaped her into someone completely unfit for the life of a 'normal' person.
Caitlyn disagrees.
"All I ever knew how to do is fight. I don't even remember what it's like, to not hurt all over. And I'm proud of it. I'm good at it, at fighting. That was what people needed me to do and I delivered. When I wasn't fighting I was training. It was all hit, get hit, spit the blood out, repeat. Always someone to protect, someone to uplift, someone looking up to me. Mylo, Claggor. Powder. Ekko. I never thought about myself, I don't think. I was older than them, so I assumed the role of a leader. And a leader has no right for mistakes, for selfishness, can't fail. And I failed them so many times, but I couldn't exactly step down, could I? It felt like without me they could only bitch among themselves. In reality, without them I wasn't really much of anything. Didn't have time to create that 'something'. So I led. And fought. And took responsibility. And I thought nothing of it. Someone had to do it. I was good at it. So who cared if my face was broken and if I consciously missed out on half the things Undercity teenagers had going on. I'm Vi. I fight. Sometimes I steal or scam and then fight. Everyone knows it. Everyone expects it. It's easy.
"And then in prison? I just fought. First – for answers. Then – just to pass the time before some asshole gets generous enough to finish me off. I gave up on getting out, I gave up on being a person with a name and not just a number. All I had left in me was fighting. Hurting. Being angry. Being Pink, the number 516, that one psycho who can't stop until her enemy is a bloody pulp with an eye falling out. So. I got out of prison, I got a name again, but I still have no idea how to live. I only know how to survive. Just pound these fists into anything that breathes wrong and convince myself that I do it for some purpose and not just to feel numb. That's all my hands are good for, all they've ever been good for, all I made them be good for. But this time there's no Powder behind my back, no Mylo, Claggor or Ekko. And people up here or even down there flinch and get scared and dare to judge me as if I had any real choice in making myself this way. And now you come and offer me, what? A life of comfort and peace? What will I do with that? Lounge on a sofa that's too soft, eat food no one can dream about down below, waste water on baths just because and make my hands look pretty? Can I even have that? Should I even have that? What good am I if not fighting? What if I slip? What if I hurt someone? What if I hurt you?"
"You're wrong, though."
"Am I? You don't know me."
"I know enough. You told me enough. How can you say that you're only capable of anger when you obviously love your sister and the others so much?"
"Look where my love got them. That's answer enough."
"That wasn't your fault."
"It was. It always has been. Me taking them on that job. Me not ensuring it went smoothly. Me pushing Powder away, me hurting her. Me making her think I abandoned her, me leaving her in Silco's hands. Whatever happened, I was responsible for them. I was the one everyone followed and looked up to. It's all on me."
"You were a kid, Vi. You can't keep blaming yourself for everything."
"I sure can."
"And whatever happened that night, you had a life to live before that."
"Life full of me picking fights and blowing up on people I loved 'cause I slowly forgot I didn't have to fight them as well."
"Have you ever hugged your sister?"
"...what? Of course I had!"
"Cuddled her because of nightmares?"
"Sure, but--"
"Tickled her to make her laugh? Carried her around on your back? Made silly faces at her? Ruffled her hair? Cut her hair? Tried to fix a broken toy despite probably hopelessly failing at it?"
"Ouch, but, uh, yes, yes to all of it, more or less..."
"Then it seems clear to me that these accused hands of yours are capable of so much more than just fighting and hurting. And I know for a fact that this part of you survived the years in Stillwater."
"You have more trust in me than I do."
"Evidently."
"That doesn't change the fact that I don't know who I even am without the fighting. And the scary thing isn't that I don't know if I'll ever be able to put the metaphorical gauntlets down. It's that I don't want to."
"We'll figure it out."
"'We', huh?"
"I'm still here, aren't I?"
"And if I... If I slip and freak out on you, or do something equally bad?"
"You won't."
"I never thought I'd hit my sister either. What IF, Caitlyn?"
"Then I am not a little girl and I can actually stand up for myself, believe it or not. I won't just let you hurt me. I also won't ask you to completely change who you are as a person and play a topside girl or whatever. And I won't throw you away just because of 'what ifs'. "
"What about--"
"Violet, I'm talking the whole you. Bloody hands, stubborn head, snoring broken nose, badass tattoos, fighting habits, anger issues and a terrifying little sister. All included."
"...why would you even waste the time?"
"Because I see a strong and selfless woman with a good, tender heart, fierce unbroken spirit and too much care for everyone around her for her own good. And she's worth every effort."
"You need to get your eyes checked, 'cause I don't see her in this room."
"And you need to take your self-hatred down a notch."
"I'm good at hating."
"You're much better at loving."
"Ha."
"Okay, then how about this: I'm better at loving you than you are at hating yourself."
"You're better at WHAT--"
"DON'T read into it. Not right now, anyway."
"...okay."
"So does this mean that you will stay?"
"...I promise to try. But you'd better be ready for disappointment."
"Try me."
***
"...Cait?"
"Hm?"
"The truth is... I'm so tired of fighting. I don't want to stop doing it completely, but it's just... I used to dream it would stop being necessary. Stop being the only way I can feel needed and useful. I sometimes wonder what it would feel like to wake up without a single bruise. But also... I'm Vi. Fighting is what I do. I'm afraid to lose myself if I stop."
"I get you. It's one thing to shoot just because I want to, or in a competition, or in some dire situation that absolutely calls for it, and to pride myself in being an excellent shot. I imagine that it feels very different to shoot in a war, until your trigger finger is raw, your shoulder hurts for months and you can't even count how many lives you took because you didn't have a choice."
"Something like that."
"As I said, we'll figure it out. But just so you know, fighting is not the main thing that Vi does."
"Oh? What does she do, then?"
"Protects, leads, takes action where others are idle. That's just a few."
"...all of which is basically fighting."
"Also worries her arse off, especially about her sister, flirts awfully, argues constantly, gets grumpy about everything, jumps roofs instead of walking like a normal person, eats with her hands--"
"Ack, okay, okay, I got it."
"And many other things which I, for one, am excited to learn."
"You're weird."
"So I've been told."
"Wait, really? By whom?"
"Wait till you see my personal collection of official disciplinary reprimands from my higher-ups and judging notes from my mother. I have an album."
"Oooh, rebel cupcake. Now you're talking."
"That's misfit cupcake to you."
"Sure, sure. Can I see?"
"Depends. Are you done sulking?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Then by all means, you're welcome."