Archive of Our Own ^beta

The lab was alive with the hum of Hextech cores, the soft glow of blue light painting the room in an otherworldly hue. Viktor sat at his workbench, hunched over an intricate mechanism, his movements frantic. His hands trembled as he adjusted the fine details of the device, sweat glistening on his pale forehead.

Jayce leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his brow furrowed in worry. He’d been here for hours, trying to talk Viktor into resting, but his words fell on deaf ears.

“Viktor,” Jayce called out, his voice strained with concern.

No response.

“Viktor!” he said louder, stepping forward, his boots clinking against the metal floor.

Viktor paused for a fraction of a second, his head tilting slightly in acknowledgment, but his hands never stopped moving. “I am fine, Jayce,” he murmured, his voice hoarse and distant.

“No, you’re not,” Jayce snapped, moving closer. “You’ve been here for three days straight. You haven’t slept, you haven’t eaten, and you’re barely standing. This—whatever it is—can wait.”

“I said I am fine,” Viktor growled, his usual calm demeanor replaced with an edge of irritation. He reached for another tool, his movements increasingly erratic. “I am close to a breakthrough. If I stop now, it could be—”

“It could be the end of you!” Jayce interrupted, slamming his hand down on the workbench. The clang echoed through the lab. “Look at yourself, Viktor! You’re going to collapse—or worse.”

Viktor’s head snapped up, his golden eyes blazing with frustration. “You do not understand. I cannot afford to rest. Every moment is—”

“I don’t care!” Jayce barked, his voice breaking with desperation. “I don’t care about the deadlines, the council, or the damn Hextech. I care about you. And you’re killing yourself for this.”

Viktor’s hand trembled as he clutched the tool tighter, his breath ragged. “Leave, Jayce,” he said quietly, his voice tight with emotion. “I do not need your interference.”

Jayce froze, staring at him. For a moment, he considered leaving—letting Viktor spiral, as much as it pained him. But then Viktor’s knees buckled slightly, his body swaying as exhaustion threatened to overtake him.

That was it.

Jayce moved before Viktor could protest, grabbing his arm firmly. “I’m not leaving,” he said, his voice steely. “You’re going to stop, even if I have to make you.”

“Jayce, let me go,” Viktor hissed, struggling weakly against the grip.

“No,” Jayce said, his jaw set. He reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a small syringe. Viktor’s eyes widened as he saw it, a flicker of fear flashing across his face.

“Jayce, what are you—?”

“I’m sorry,” Jayce murmured, his voice softening. “But I can’t stand by and watch you hurt yourself anymore.”

Before Viktor could protest, Jayce injected the sedative into his arm. Viktor gasped, his body tensing for a moment before the drug began to take effect. His struggles weakened, his limbs growing heavy.

“Why…?” Viktor whispered, his voice faint as his body sagged against Jayce.

“Because I care about you,” Jayce said, his voice breaking as he eased Viktor into his arms. “And sometimes, you’re too stubborn to know what’s best for yourself.”

Viktor’s head lolled against Jayce’s shoulder, his breaths slowing as the sedative took hold. Jayce held him tightly, guilt gnawing at him even as relief flooded his chest.

“I’m sorry, Vik,” Jayce murmured, his voice barely audible over the hum of the lab. “But you’re more important to me than any invention ever could be.”

With careful movements, Jayce carried Viktor out of the lab, the weight of his friend lighter than it should have been. He made a silent promise to himself: Viktor would rest, even if Jayce had to fight him every step of the way.

For now, though, Viktor was safe—and that was enough.

~~~~~~~~~

Jayce entered the adjacent room—a small, makeshift space they used for naps on long nights. Viktor lay on the cot, pale and still, his thin frame partially covered by a blanket Jayce had brought hours earlier. His chest rose and fell steadily, the effects of the sedative still lingering.

Jayce set the tray on the small table and pulled up a chair beside the cot. He’d been checking in every hour, even though Viktor hadn’t stirred since Jayce carried him here. Now, though, Viktor’s eyelids fluttered, his golden irises peeking through in the dim light.

“Vik?” Jayce leaned forward, his voice quiet but hopeful.

Viktor blinked a few times, his gaze unfocused before it settled on Jayce. His brow furrowed, confusion giving way to a flicker of irritation. “You sedated me,” he said, his voice rasping but sharp.

Jayce winced but didn’t back down. “Yeah, I did,” he admitted, leaning back in his chair. “Because you weren’t listening to me, and you were about to push yourself into… I don’t even want to think about it.”

Viktor let out a soft, bitter chuckle, though it dissolved into a dry cough. Jayce immediately reached for the tea, handing it to him. Viktor hesitated before accepting, his hands shaking slightly as he took a sip.

“You had no right,” Viktor murmured, his voice softer now.

“And you had no right to treat yourself like you’re expendable,” Jayce shot back, his frustration evident but laced with concern.

Viktor flinched at the words, his fingers tightening around the mug. He stared into the tea, as though searching for an answer. “I thought I could… manage it,” he said after a moment. “The work is important. I am not.”

Jayce’s heart clenched at the quiet admission. He reached out, his hand resting gently on Viktor’s forearm. “Don’t say that. You are important—more than any of this.” He gestured toward the lab beyond the room.

Viktor shook his head. “You do not understand. My body… my time… it is limited. I must accomplish something meaningful before it is too late.”

Jayce’s grip on Viktor’s arm tightened slightly. “You don’t have to do it all at once,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “And you don’t have to do it alone.”

Viktor’s gaze flicked to Jayce’s, something vulnerable flickering in his tired eyes. “I do not wish to waste what remains,” he murmured.

“And you won’t,” Jayce assured him. “But pushing yourself to the brink isn’t the answer. You need rest. Recovery. You can’t build anything—not Hextech, not a legacy—if you fall apart first.”

Viktor looked away, his jaw tightening, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he leaned back against the cot, his body sagging with exhaustion. “I am… sorry,” he said quietly. “I did not mean to cause concern.”

Jayce sighed, a small, relieved smile tugging at his lips. “You’re forgiven,” he said. “Just don’t do it again. I don’t want to have to sedate you twice.”

A faint, almost imperceptible smile ghosted across Viktor’s lips. “I will… try to avoid it,” he said, his voice softer now, tinged with an unspoken gratitude.

“Good.” Jayce leaned back, letting his shoulders relax for the first time in hours. “Now, you’re going to eat, drink, and get some proper rest. I’ll make sure the council doesn’t bother us for a while. They can wait.”

Viktor hesitated but nodded, allowing himself to lean on Jayce’s determination for once.

As the night wore on, the two of them sat in companionable silence, the tension slowly melting away. It wasn’t a complete fix—Viktor still carried the weight of his ambitions, and Jayce still worried about his stubbornness. But for now, Viktor was safe, and Jayce was by his side.

It was a start.