Chapter Text
“I know it’s not much of an apology but I really do miss you. Let me know if you wanna give it a shot. Love, P”
Vi stared at the letter on her counter while she stirred her coffee, a frown pulling on the edges of her mouth. Taking the spoon out and tapping the excess drops off, she stuck the metal utensil into her mouth and chewed on it thoughtfully, before tossing it over into the sink.
She had been having an absolutely wonderful week, until yesterday evening when she’d gotten home from the gym and found a letter taped to her door, in an envelope with just her name and building address. Attached to it was an irate note in her landlord’s handwriting ‘give them your apartment number, I ain’t your secretary’
The letter had been from her sister, Powder. Her sister she hadn’t seen since Vi had gone to prison. That she hadn’t talked to since she left. Vi wasn’t even sure how Powder had tracked her down.
”Vi, please read the whole thing before you throw this out,”
Always a great way to start a letter.
“The holidays are coming up, and I don’t know if you have someone, if you have somewhere, but I wanted you to know you have me and here. I’m still home. And I’m so fucking sorry.”
It has been six years. Six years since she had been home, since she was arrested for an arson she didn’t commit, thrown into prison, and fucked off the second she got out. Six years since she’d seen her baby sister that had actually caused the fire. And now that baby sister had written her a letter begging forgiveness and asking her back.
“Things have changed since you left. I’ve changed.”
Vi scoffed into her coffee. That wasn’t much of a promise, with no specifics it could mean anything. Her sister could be the resident drug lord for all she knew.
She did chuckle at that idea.
Still… she looked back down at the letter. Six years was a long time for a kid. Powder would be, what, 20 now? Vi certainly wasn’t the same stubborn asshole kid she was in high school. She was an adult now, and wouldn’t the adult thing to do be to go back home for a couple of days, see if it was worth making amends? And worst case, she could tell Powder to fuck off to her face, which would be pretty cathartic.
Guess either way, this would probably be good closure.
Vi sighed, and drained her coffee, tossing the mug indelicately into the sink and ignoring the possible cracking noise it made. She picked up the letter, lightly crumpling it with her thumb as she stared at the loopy handwriting, taking a deep breath.
Fuck. Work wasn’t gonna like this.
~
Seven hours later Vi was in her old battered pickup on the highway. She had the windows down despite the cool temperatures, and her rock playlist turned all the way up.
Despite the fact that she was heading to a place that had made her feel so trapped, at least the drive there felt freeing. She had one arm hanging out the window, tapping on the side of the truck to the current song’s beat as she bobbed her head along.
She wondered what she would find back in her old hometown. She wondered if Powder still lived in their parents house. If the arcade they used to hang out with was still around or if it had finally gotten demolished. That shitty food truck that made the best chilli fries Vi had ever tasted. Maybe the whole town had been gentrified into Starbucks and weed stores. Maybe it was a ghost town.
She wondered how many people she remembered were still there. The old barkeep that would help them out on the tough days without a word. The boys that had lived on their street she used to hang with. That shitty ass cop that had busted her for the arson.
Caitlyn Kiramman.
Vi’s stomach dropped and she stopped tapping along to the music as the girl’s face popped into her memories. She hadn’t considered until just now that Caitlyn might still be there.
The Kiramman family were one of the wealthiest when Vi had lived there. Mrs Kiramman had been the mayor, and their daughter Caitlyn had mostly been in boarding schools and summer camps, almost never seen around during their childhood except as a rumour. But the summer they were 17 she had stayed home due to an injury and she and Vi had…
Well, Vi had been a bit of a delinquent in the past, and expected the room to be empty with Caitlyn gone. Both girls had been surprised to see each other when Vi had snuck in through the window, hoping to find some jewelry or trinkets to pawn.
But instead of calling for help or turning Vi in, Caitlyn had tried to reason with her. When she found out Vi’s motivation was to cobble enough money together to buy Powder a birthday gift she had donated half her jewelry chest, insisting she never wore them anyway. She sent Vi home with clothes and books for Powder. And all she ever seemed to ask in return was for Vi to visit and tell her stories.
Which Vi did. She would tell Caitlyn all about her childhood, the childhood Caitlyn had skipped by being sent to the schools her mother picked out for her. Catching frogs and snakes, playing whatever games they could make up with balls and sticks when they were bored, about how Powder liked to draw and tinker.
She never told Caitlyn about her parents. Never told her how they’d died, how she and Powder were squatting in their old house after running from foster care, how often they went to bed hungry. That the ‘birthday gift’ for Powder was actually for groceries, for the water bill, to keep the lights on.
Over the summer Vi visited more and more, and they had gotten closer. Vi had known for a while that she liked girls the way she was supposed to like boys, but Caitlyn never gave her clear enough signals. Not to mention was hugely out of her league - a wealthy politicians daughter had no place with a homeless scrapper like Vi. So Vi had pushed down the butterflies and kept to just enjoying the growing friendship, of a pretty girl who enjoyed her company and gave her something to look forward to.
That is, until Powder had followed her one night and set Caitlyn’s house on fire.
It had been an accident, but still had resulted in enough damage that when Vi had run in to save Caitlyn she had been grabbed and interrogated as the only suspect. She had been accused of trying to get close to Caitlyn solely to steal from her, to setting the fire to try and cover her tracks.
Vi knew that the system would be harder on Powder than on her, and had pled guilty.
Caitlyn had been there, when she was sentenced, and the look of absolute betrayal on her face had broken something inside of Vi.
After a week in the juvenile detention centre Powder had come to visit her and confessed she had set the fire. Vi had torn into her, lost her mind that Powder had sabotaged the best chance they had to improve their lives, and the guards had to pull her back. Her outburst had made it back to the judge who decided that, since she was just shy of 18 Vi was old enough to receive an adult’s sentence. She was sent off to proper prison.
Prison had been hell. No one wrote - she tried writing to Caitlyn to explain or apologize, but never received anything back. The bartender who had helped them out a bit sent her a couple of care packages, but they slowed down before they stopped coming altogether. She never had a visitor.
She had gotten exactly one letter from her younger sister - a crumpled folded piece of paper that simply said ‘fuck you and never come back.’
So when she had finally gotten out 4 years later, she turned her heel and went to leave Piltover behind her for good.
So much for that.
Vi sighed, rolling up the windows to her truck. As she turned off the highway to make her way to the motel she planned to stay at for the night, she hoped that Caitlyn had left the town as soon as she could. Otherwise this was going to be even more complicated that Vi could ever imagine.
~
After a day and a half of driving, it was nearly 10pm when Vi finally pulled into the small town of Piltover, her old truck wheezing in protest at the hours they’d put in. The town looked roughly the same as it had when she had left - trees slightly taller, a couple of storefronts changed or updated. A few new apartment buildings and side streets - looked like the town was definitely growing.
Good for it, she thought, as she slowed down past the old bar. It’s facade was changed, the neon sign almost garish, but it was still there. Vi swallowed the unexpected emotion at the nostalgia and kept driving.
She circled around the main streets for a bit, letting the nostalgia settle in. The town was practically lifeless at this time, surprisingly. Or maybe not so surprisingly, considering it was well past closing time on a freezing cold Tuesday. No shoppers, anyone out for drinks would still be inside and the teen hangout was probably still the old graveyard behind the community centre.
Vi sighed - she was stalling. She had to get to the house before Powder fell asleep. Or at least a light enough sleep that Vi pounding on the door could wake her.
Vi probably should have tried a way to let Powder know she was coming.
After another few minutes of driving she squinted - the houses and trees were definitely getting more sparse than she remembered they should - and realized she’d missed her turn. With a shrug she pulled a quick illegal u-turn, the streets were empty after all, and leaned forward on the wheel to make sure she didn’t miss the road again. It should be just up here-
WOOP
Vi groaned and slowed the truck as she dropped her head to the steering wheel. The blue and red lights flashing in her mirror was the absolute last thing she needed.
She pulled over and parked, sitting back in her seat with an exasperated sigh. The police car slowed to a park behind her, headlights blinding so Vi could only tell the cop exited by the slamming of the door and crunch of feet on the gravel. She kept her hands on the wheel and closed her eyes, composing herself for whatever overbearing power-fantasy bullshit she was about to endure.
“Did you know you pulled an illegal turn back there?”
Vi’s eyes snapped opened at the woman’s voice - a polite clipped accent picked up from years abroad in boarding schools that had faded slightly over the years but was still immediately recognizable. She turned her head slowly to look out the window, eyes wide.
She was unmistakable. Yes she was taller, her smooth black hair was tied up in a ponytail, her cheekbones looked more pronounced and the patrol uniform hugging her long legs and slender form was probably the cheapest fabric she’d ever worn in her life. But there she was.
Caitlyn Kiramman, staring back at her with equal shock.