Chapter Text
"I had no one else to turn to!"
Is what Sevika yelled as she pushed her way further into the bar, with her eyes set on Vander. Slumped against her and barely holding his own weight was a corpse of Vanders past. Or so he thought was a corpse. The skin was cold and ashy. Almost alien in complexion. He can't hear or see him breath, but when Vander slid a small mirror right up to Silcos face he saw a telltale collection of moisture along the glass. The one undamaged eye doesn't follow any movement, it stared on.
Seeing this of Silco terrified him. A man ravaged by whatever Zaum and Piltover put him through, and time itself. He gave her a curt nod to Sevika before relieving her of the duty in carrying the injured man. With broad arms he scooped up the injured Silco and its like cradling a limp doll of wire and mesh except he can feel the gush of blood soak into his shirt. He held the old friend like a lifeline as he hurried to the backroom of his bar. Behind him, he can hear Sevika settle down just outside. No doubt gathering herself from the events that transpired.
Gently, he laid Silco across his desk and folded the limp arms over his stomach. Doing so elicited a groan from the others mouth which he cradled his face and muttered a soft word of reassurance. Staring down at the ruined portrait of his old friend, he saw the problem exactly as it is.
Something mauled him. Raked through his chest until pieces of ribs were chipped off, and whats left of his shirt and muscles were splayed out like butterfly wings. Vanders hands trembled as he picked through the gaping wound to figure out where he should start. It was quickly overwhelming, and the longer he stared in shock the sooner he was to losing him. That thought alone snapped him into action. Shoveling through cluttered drawers and pulling out all the supplies he needed to perform a miracle.
Disinfection was a must, as was stabilizing Silco. Disinfecting the wound came before he got to stitching up what he could and bandages coming no later. Seconds slowed to a crawl as his entire world narrowed itself down to this. Piltover could slink into a sump and it wouldn't matter. His friend was dying. Faintly, he could hear the dripping of blood hitting the floor in the background. A quick trickle that, slowly but surely, slowed to a pitter patter. It was the best measure he had in progress, because the otherwise Silco seemed dead.
When he stripped Silco of the top half of his outfit, he wrapped the torso in a last line of bandages. Then Vander himself could finally breath. His knees started to tremble and he collapsed into his desk chair, staring numbly at him with a silent prayer hanging between his lips. The door creaked, and it was Sevika coming to check on them. She noticed the marginally better state her employer was in but then her eyes trailed to a red line connecting him to Vander. A blood transfusion, a final offering held up like a lamb in the face of a clear path to fate.
"Did you close up the bar?" He found himself asking.
It took a moment to find her answer, because she almost decided on debating if he should have bothered in the first place.
"...Yes."
Coughing interrupted the conversation. Watery coughing in between gasps, and nails raking across the wooden surface of the desk. On the bright side, his skin was no longer an ash grey, and he was a little more lucid. Vander almost wanted to say something but Silco growled and scrabbled at the table. Of course, being in this much pain with no such crutch to hold it off would leave anyone short for words. So he pulled out a small emerald bottle of a fluid with no smell, but strong enough to carry a blue flame. His broad hand cupped Silcos face.
"Here." He spoke gently. "Just drink."
Of course Silco wordlessly took the drink, choking it down before coughing again and wincing at the agitated stitches. The empty bottle dropped to the floor and shattered into millions of glittering stars, with the injured man reclining slowly to rest his head.
“That was my good shirt.” Rasped Silco, clawing onto consciousness with white knuckles. The damaged eye flickered to Vander, a man he once called his. “Why am I here.”
And Vander in turn scowled at him. “Why are you here? What DID this to you?!?”
The absinthe sat in his stomach and he can feel it settle deeper in him with each heartbeat. There's a sort of tingle that began and the numbing effect on everything that screamed across his body. Its only shame is not being able to quiet Vander down as well, and of course absinthe's other notable quality: His vision takes on a blueish tint, bleeding into his half working sight.
“What else?” He said casually. “A monster attacked. Tore me open.” Upon trying to mess with the bandage on his chest, instead found that he had no strength to lift his arm up or even forward. When he tried the other arm it was almost as bad, and it made his heart thrum in a panic. Breathing as well seemed to be a slow struggle and if it wasn't for the substance he'd spiral into hyperventilation. This new restriction to his range in motion lit a small bonfire of ire. A hatred of this new limitation.
There was vulnerability here too, he could feel it. When he does notice the red line connecting to Vander his shaking arm snaked forward to wrestle it from his own wrist. but instead, Vanders hand settled on top of Silcos. A motion that he shouldn't find comfort in the agony.
“Easy there.” Vander replied. He spoke like he was talking to a cornered animal and likely because he was. There was nowhere to go right now, and nothing he had the strength to do. "Just tell me about the monster. Did you get a good look at it?"
"Get a good look at it?" He spat in an incredulous tone. "I tried shooting the damn thing as it tried to disembowel me. 'S was a monster that had pipes and chem-tech of the likes I've never seen before."
Then Sevika spoke up, which made them both jump a little. "It was some sort of wolf. I... I think it was there to send a message, because it left without a trace."
Vander drummed his fingers against Silcos hand while chewing on the information. And the other, well, he tried to move his upper arms out of habit to lift himself up and the embarrassment of remembering he can't made him snap. His arms now felt like two half strung puppets, hesitant to move at the shoulder but fine otherwise.
"Thank you for your contribution Sevika." He spoke with gritted teeth, the drink humming in his veins now. "But me and Vander will continue this discussion in private."
She opened her mouth in almost saying something but in the end thought better of it and left. He felt the retreat of Vanders hand from his own, but was less pleased to see it sliding behind his neck with the other arm behind his knees. Vander carried him slowly, and bridal style with his arms tucked in. If a smell could take him back to a simpler time, it was the musk of Vander mixed with that soap he always used. It was inescapable and the final straw in his defenses as someone who had a brush with death.
When lowered on a couch, his fingers dug into Vanders shirt like a vice. It was sinking in how truly close he was to losing it all, and because of what. Someones new attack dog? One swipe below his ribs would have ended everyting, but the creature was just determined to burrow at his heart it seemed.
“Just focus on resting.” The big man chided while the other stewed in silence. An intimate reminder that someone this close can still read his mind. "We can discuss this later."
“Tell me,” Silco spoke with a slur in his voice. “How can I rest while in the arms of my enemy?”
No poison bled into his words. In fact, they were uttered quietly. The defeated sound of an old man. Vander could see it too, the age etched deeply into his face, the slivers of silver in his hair. It left him thinking this: What happened to them? Like what really lead to something so beautiful destroying itself this way?
"Not tonight." Vander answered as he gently brushed the hair away from Silco's face. "Just survive and share tomorrow with me."
Vander pinched off the cord meant for feeding Silco his blood on both ends and wrapped the insertion sight for both their wrists tightly. Red drops hit the stark white bandages. There was always a high chance he wouldn't make it, and this was likely to be his last conversation with him. What would his last words even be? Everything felt heavy, with the shades of blue and purple dancing everywhere.
A choked sob came out, he couldn't stop it in time.
"You /broke/ me." Silco said, his voice wavering. "Over and over again. Why save me now?"
Vander pulled away, a heavy pause suffocated the room. All the things he wanted to say and could tell him, smothered him. What didn't help were the years they never so much saw eachother that created this build up of words. He had dreamed of this conversation and its every scenario. The best cases, the worst. Each a sliver in its own little universe, with this one now sitting in the middle.
"I was an idiot." He admitted outloud. "I was a brute trying to do the best for you, for everyone, but I was a still a monster. Felicia's death made me someone I will never be proud of, and I am so. So. Sorry that its broken you."
And now he was getting weepy in turn. Tears squeezed out and raced down his cheeks. He cradled Silcos hand and kissed it. "If you never forgive me for it, I accept that consequence but please know I will save you every day I can because you still mean this much to me."
Crying also hurt. The quivering of his chest agitated the stitches again and it was all just too much crashing down on him. He grabbed Vander with every bit of strength left in him and pulled himself up closer just to hold him and Vanders blood strained arms held him back tightly. They both sobbed and cried loudly with throats closed up tight until the worst was over. Until they were both breathing heavily, and the world sort of blurred into a watercolor of tears and exhaustion. Silco pawed at his shoulder until it stopped moving, and it took a moment for Vander to check again that he was still alive just in case.
Yes, it appeared that the old man simply tired himself out. And yet, he couldn't find himself leaving the others side. So he sat on the floor beside the couch and rested his head close to him. Also sleeping but barely.