Vi had taken Caitlyn out to the country, driving her in the roadster that was technically the Sheriff’s, but which Vi had a hand in maintaining and operating. She remained by her partner’s side as her strength slowly returned, walking with her along the lakeside,…
"Except you aren’t." Vi tugged Caitlyn a little closer, shifting Bob into her lap instead. "You’ve been acting so… down this whole time. It’s like…” She hesitated. “…like they broke you. Like they stole what made you… you. You won’t even fucking look at me. And now I’m, again, fucking useless to help.”
She looked away, down at the table, sitting in silence for several moments. “I can’t stand seein you like this, Caitlyn. After all you’ve done, after all I’ve seen from you, behind the scenes… seein you like this hurts. Even worse when I can’t do shit. Just like last time, I feel helpless, and this time I can’t even beat on the fucker who did this to you. Who raped you, body and soul. Empty fucking justice, and I hate it!” Those last words were shouted, and she slammed a fist onto the couch cushion beside her.
"I just… want you to be happy again." Her voice was soft, and uncharacteristically tiny. "But I don’t know how."
(( sheriff-caitlyn ))
Vi had taken Caitlyn out to the country, driving her in the roadster that was technically the Sheriff’s, but which Vi had a hand in maintaining and operating. She remained by her partner’s side as her strength slowly returned, walking with her along the lakeside, through the gentle mountain trails and through orchards not yet harvested. Vi was there to hold her in the darkness of night, to huddle with her before the fire in the evenings, and to pull her out into the sunshine when all she might have wanted to do was to hide.
And Vi was the one to bring her home again, their shared townhome a more welcome sight to the city-bred punk.
Yet the place seemed emptier, even to Vi. She did her best to keep her usual humor, lightly teasing her partner and displaying her usual enthusiasm—such as it was—for their work. But there was an air about their home that was beginning to wear even on her. So one night, after their Ionian take-out had arrived, Vi flopped onto the couch beside her partner and stared at her as she ate, unwavering.
"…we need to get you doin somethin," she said finally. "Maybe I can start teachin you how to work hextech."
*stares some more*
…WHERE DID YOU ALL COME FROM???))
//I’m home again
//How in flipping heck did I pick up 50 new followers while I was away
// … hi, nice to meet you all.
((YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY MY CAITLYN IS HOME <333333))
At seven years old, the little ginger they called “Vi” (for the tattoo on her cheek) was a rambunctious and fierce little fighter. She and her sister were inseparable since they were rescued out of that facility, and for the most part, Vi’s ferocity was directed at any who dared approach her scrawnier sibling. She was the fiery guardian, despite being the younger of the two, and the two teenaged leaders, Ruby and Cory, used that.
The sisters were a fearsome team, and successful with every theft they attempted. Sometimes it was money; others, food. Many times, some mechanical thing came with them, broken or whole, and that always went to Vi to disassemble for parts.
It hadn’t taken the crew long to discover Vi’s strange sense for ‘tech; she always seemed to know how it worked and how to take it apart. So they put her to work trying to apply that knowledge into putting together new things, and by the time she was seven, she was their mechanic, making and maintaining small gadgets for the crew. Crystal screens, radios, lockpicks—all manners of machines made the crew’s lives so much easier and allowed them to defend their alley hideout.
Vi was an asset, and she was quite enjoying herself. With her sister beside her, she finally felt as though she had a home.
The second one for for kini, based on one of the snapshot fics (Downtime) which you can read here!
Vi by zippo514
Punch first. Ask questions while punching.
Down by the bay.
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