Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

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Caitlyn’s eyes blinked open to the soft chime of her phone vibrating on the bedside table.

For a moment, she stared at the ceiling, disoriented, heart thudding fast for no reason she could name. Then, with a heaviness still lingering behind her eyes, she reached out, fingers fumbling across the nightstand until they closed around the phone. Her face scrunched up, the bright glow of the screen stinging her eyes.

An email? Her thumb hovered over the notification, vision still blurry as she tried to make out the subject line.

SUBJECT : Stillwater Research Internship - Acceptance Notification

Caitlyn nearly jumped out of bed, sitting up so fast that the blanket tangled around her legs.

It was real. It was actually real.

She was fully expecting to be rejected, and a “Thank you for your interest” attached to the message they’d be sending back, but now here this email was, staring back at her.

The Piltover Academy logo glowed, pulsing faintly in the top corner of the embed message, highlighting that this was indeed, very real.

Caitlyn’s eyes scanned the words, barely breathing, catching on phrases like “We are pleased to inform you” and “Your internship begins this cycle".

Stillwater labs. A full year of appealing, cross-district research. Interns from all over Runeterra. And she’d been invited. Invited to study alongside them.

Heart still racing, she clicked the phone off, excitement still buzzing through her. A quiet kind of relief overlapped the mix of emotions she was feeling. She’d finally be able to leave home for a good purpose. She thought it would've been easier to carry on in silence, if it had come to that.

She hadn’t told many people she’d applied, afraid of the rejection. Carrying the silence had felt safer than sharing the possibility of a failure.

But it hadn’t come to that.

She made it.

°•~━━✥❖✥━━~•°

“Cait! That’s amazing!” Jayce’s voice boomed through the phone speaker, loud enough to make her wince and pull it an inch away from her ear. The sound practically rattled the phone in Caitlyn’s hand.

“Jayce!” She hissed, glancing nervously toward her closed bedroom door. “Keep it down! My parents are still sleeping!”

“Right. Sorry!” A sheepish chuckle followed the apology, making Caitlyn faintly smile at her friend’s antics.

She could practically hear him grinning through the line.

“Stillwater Labs? That’s the big leagues, Cait! You’re gonna be working with tech that hasn't even hit the Council labs yet. Did you even tell me before you applied?”

Caitlyn let herself fall back against her pillow, phone pressed between her shoulder and ear. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

“I didn’t want to disappoint anyone.”

“Well, you didn’t. You crushed it, as always. I’m proud of you sprout!”

His voice held more than just excitement. It carried genuine pride, maybe even reverence. It warmed her heart, even if it was brief. Made the whole thing feel more real.

°•~━━✥❖✥━━~•°

The Stillwater Labs campus wasn’t exactly what Caitlyn had expected.

She had pictured something livelier, maybe even a bit more polished, the kind of pristine Piltover vision polished for the Council’s official press releases.

Instead, there was only a hum of distant tech, muted footsteps, and quiet voices. It was certainly a new environment for her. It wasn’t eerie, not really. It just felt a bit sterile. Empty, maybe. This was the kind of quiet that gave your thoughts too much room to grow.

Still, Caitlyn smiled politely when necessary during orientation, nodded along during the security briefings, and accepted her issued ID badge. It came with a passcode chip and a blinking tracker embedded in it. Interns were not granted full access. They were only allowed access to a few designated zones, which she assumed were for safety measures.

Caitlyn followed a senior researcher down a curved hallway, past locked doors marked only with abnormal greek letters and color coded stripes. Her own badge bounced lightly against her chest, hanging from the lanyard. It was marked with a blue stripe, granting level one access.

She’d been assigned to ‘Behavioral Studies’, which, according to the neat brochure, focused on “the psychological regulation of dominant and submissive traits in volunteer alpha subjects”. Her eyebrows did raise slightly at the receiving of this particular subject, but she hadn't asked questions. Not yet.

“Each intern is assigned a subject pair,” the researcher said. “You’ll be working primarily in Observational and Behavioral Tracking.”

The hallway opened into a viewing chamber. Thick, reinforced glass divided the space. A workstation side, which was hers, and another side, dimly lit with minimal furnishings and a table. It felt as if this was some sort of interrogation room.

The air was heavy, filled with uncomfortable silence. Almost suffocating.

“This is Observation Room D,” the researcher continued, glancing up from his notes to meet her eyes. “You’ll find your room assignment and full onboarding documents on your research terminal. You’ll be starting with baseline monitoring and low-engagement profiling.”

Caitlyn furrowed her brow. “Low-engagement?”

“No direct questioning yet. Alphas in this tier are known to often display elevated hostility.”

Before she could press further, the door on the other side of the glass hissed open.

And then she saw her.

The woman that stepped inside looked like she’d been carved out of raw nerve and a bad history. Tall, broad shouldered, muscles taut beneath a sleeveless orange uniform, as if they’d been torn off, not issued that way. Scars mapped her forearms, and a tiny tattoo was set beneath her left eye.

VI.

Six?

What the hell?

Caitlyn’s eyes narrowed.

Her hair was a messy shock of pink, shaved close on the sides, and messily grown out. She carried herself like someone who was permanently braced for impact.

Caitlyn didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but it was definitely not this.

The subject's eyes skimmed across the room, right before locking on Caitlyn’s through the glass. Not curious, not wary. Just flat. Like she’d already finished assessing Caitlyn and found nothing worth reacting to.

“Subject 516,” the man said through a small mic clipped to his chest. “This is one of our new interns. She’s part of your post-conflict rehabilitation cycle.”

Caitlyn frowned. “Post-conflict?”

Seriously, what does that even mean?

“Some of our volunteers were referred by judicial programs in Zaun,” he said, voice carefully neutral. “Voluntary participation in exchange for a lesser sentence.”

She nodded, slowly absorbing this new information. It made sense. Mostly.

The researcher gave her a final nod. “Well then, if you don’t have any more questions, I’ll leave you to get settled.”

“Oh— and don’t forget, you’ll begin active observation tomorrow. For now, review her file. And don’t be late.”

When the door closed behind him, Caitlyn stayed a moment longer, eyes still on the woman behind the glass.

Subject 516 had not moved.

Caitlyn swallowed. “Hi,” she greeted, voice soft. “I’m Caitlyn.”

Chapter Text

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Interlocking her knuckles together out of nervousness, Caitlyn surely thought this woman wasn’t going to answer after letting the silence hang for what felt like the longest minutes of her life.

I’ll have to press further later.

With that goal now tucked away for later, she finally turned her attention to the stack of papers outlining more about the lab activities and what more to expect from said activities. Best to look productive.

Behind the glass, Subject 516 hadn’t moved for a while now. She was sitting in a chair, one arm slung behind it with her head lazily rested back. Her eyes unfocused, she stared somewhere into the distance, somewhere past Caitlyn entirely. Disengaged, it seemed. And very much so.

But then, without warning, her gaze shifted. It landed straight on Caitlyn again. Sharper now.

Caitlyn straightened instinctively, eyes narrowing just a touch, debating on whether or not she should say something else. The file did say low engagement, so she supposed a second hello wouldn't hurt anyone.

Parting her lips and preparing to speak again, she was interrupted by the subject.

“Guess I scared off the last one, huh?”

Her voice was low and a bit rough. It came out a little hoarser than she intended, yet it was laced with a softness.

Caitlyn blinked, certainly caught off guard. “Pardon?”

She hadn't expected her to talk— let alone have a voice like that. The corner of the woman’s mouth curled into a small smirk.

Attempting to keep her expression neutral as best as possible, her fingers tightened slightly around the edge of a clipboard, only then realizing she was even holding one.

“I didn't think you’d heard me, actually,” she replied, honestly.

Vi snorted, one brow arching in what Caitlyn could only assume was out of amusement. 

“You think they'd lock people in here without letting them hear what was being said to them?”

Caitlyn opened her mouth to answer, only to pause and slightly squint her eyes, reassessing the subject’s words. The thought hadn't occurred to her. Or maybe she hadn't let it. Something about the way the woman said lock made the word stick harder than it should have. 

The air in the room thickened, as if it were trying to trap Caitlyn in her thoughts.

“You’re not really supposed to talk to me.” Subject 516 added after a moment of heavy silence, shifting in her seat. “But I guess they didn't put that into your little intro packet, huh?”

Caitlyn looked down at the few papers clipped to the board, suddenly hyper aware of the bolded NO DIRECT ENGAGEMENT printed across the bottom of every page. Her fingers hovered near the edge of the board, lightly tracing along it.

“I didn't mean to” She hesitated before speaking again. “It just seemed like the polite thing to do.”

The subject let out a low hum, agreement, maybe. Or maybe not, Caitlyn was a bit stunned, 

She began cracking her knuckles, her gaze never once leaving Caitlyn’s.

“Sure. Polite.”

And with that, she leaned her head back against the chair some more and looked away.

Whatever flicker had briefly passed through this conversation was gone, just as quickly as it had come, sealed and buried beneath the muscle and silence of that worn orange uniform.

Caitlyn sat still for a moment longer, trying not to think too hard. Eventually she shifted her attention back to the papers in her hand, lingering for a breath. The weight of the subject’s presence on the other side of the glass bringing her out of her thoughts. Whether she was still watching or not was unclear to her.

Finally, she stood and turned to the workstation, booting up the computer. The screen flashed to life with a quiet buzz, displaying a processing screen.

The monitor blinked softly, awaiting her badge to sync with the scanner she had almost missed. A quiet chime passed as her credentials were read.

USER: KIRAMMAN, C. — TEMPORARY CLEARANCE: L1
PROGRAM: OBSERVATIONAL TRACKING - SUBJECT 516 “VI”

She scrunched her brows up in confusion, recalling the tattoo from earlier.

VI again?

Is that meant to be her name?

She shifted her weight on the seat, glancing up from the monitor, letting her eyes wander around the room. Stillwater Labs had a strange feel to it. No, it wasn’t harsh or grotesque, just unnaturally plain and unusual. Every surface was beyond clean, but not in a typical polished way. More like it was scrubbed with intent.

The reinforced glass between her and Subject 516 was stretched, spread from one wall to the other. It isn't thick enough to distort sound, likely on purpose. She was given a mic, and had noticed one attached to the subject’s chest as well. Yet neither of them have had to use it.

Behind the glass, “Vi” stretched one leg out, leaning back onto the wall as she adjusted some sort of arm wraps over her forearms. 

Caitlyn hadn’t noticed the punching bag and other workout equipment, tucked in the far right of the subject's room until now. 

That must be what she’s preparing for.

Her movements were slow, but deliberate and measured. Ensuring that every wrap was pulled with just the right amount of tension.

She began looking through the computer files, only to be stopped short by a sudden redirection page. 

The file loaded slowly. A real paper folder also rested nearby, likely a preserved version of the digital log. She opened it, eyes scanning the top page.

SUBJECT 516 — VI
CLASSIFICATION: TIER A6 — ALPHA
ASSIGNMENT: CONFLICT REHABILITATION CYCLE
ORIGIN: ZAUN (THROUGH JUDICIAL REFERRAL)

Caitlyn’s brow creased, rightfully so.

There was a vague mention of a ‘voluntary cooperation incentive,” but no actual record of Vi’s consent form. Odd huh. Most volunteers had a signed waiver or at least a digital log. She flipped to the next page, clicking her tongue.

RECOMMENDED RESTRICTIONS: LOW CONTACT, NO PERSONAL ITEMS, NO OPEN COMMUNICATION ACCESS.
AGGRESSION SCALE: RED (PENDING REVIEW FOR APPEAL)

Her lips pressed into a thin line. 

Okay. This is odd.

It was vague, all of it. For a lab so heavily invested in control and structure, the information felt like it lacked something.

She scanned a note, handwritten with scrawny signature:

“Subject shows signs of resistance to standard rehabilitation protocol. Continue baseline observation until further notice. Maintain minimal engagement.”

It was signed off with a fancy E at the bottom.

There was another line, likely added on later, scrawled in red ink near the bottom:

“DO NOT engage in any particular political type of conversation, especially between Piltover and Zaun. It must be reported if the subject tries and does so.”

What in the seven hells?

Caitlyn stared at it for a long moment. Utterly bewildered. Then slowly, she turned back to the glass.

Vi was still adjusting her wraps, now almost ready to start whatever it was she was about to, but Caitlyn could still feel that strange, low thrum in the air. Subtle, almost not there. The feeling pulled at the back of her neck, making the hairs of her arms rise.

Well she’d felt it earlier too, when Vi’s eyes had locked with hers. The file had made mention of the alpha classification, yes, but seeing it on paper hadn’t really prepared her for the presence of it. Of her.

Squeezing her eyes tightly, Caitlyn moved in her chair again.

Don’t be ridiculous.

She was an omega, yes, but she’d never been the type to lean into that. Never let biology try and write her life. Which is ironic, considering the fact that she’s currently here at this lab, conducting related research.

Her mother certainly hadn’t approved of the whole system of classification being discussed, let alone acknowledged. House Kiramman had trained her to suppress any urges from the start, much like they’d taught her the appropriate posture.

Straighten your back. Suppress the urges.

Caitlyn turned her focus back to the pages once more, but the words hardly registered in her mind. The folder felt heavier in her hands than it should’ve.

Conflict rehabilitation.

Voluntary cooperation.

Do not engage in political conversation.

What in the seven hells indeed.

Caitlyn exhaled slowly through her nose and leaned back into her seat, letting the words blur, just momentarily.

Her fingers tapped absently against the desk. The file remained open in front of her.

A facility that prided itself on control didn’t misplace consent forms. A Tier A6 subject wouldn’t be registered as ‘low contact’ without reason. And Vi, Subject 516? She wasn’t anything like the picture that this paperwork was painting. No, definitely not.

Aggression level red?

She hadn’t even raised her voice in the slightest.

Caitlyn blinked hard, trying to shake off the unease building in her chest. She didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but this was driving her a bit mad. This wasn’t how this worked. There were protocols. Oversight. Structure. There had to be.

Who was she trying to convince?

Still, she turned back to the screen and opened the internal log directory, fingers hesitating over the keys. Before she could change her mind, she typed in the ID number from Vi’s file, navigating to the clearance-level summaries. Just a few updates. The most recent note was dated nearly four months ago.

“Subject continues to exhibit non-compliance, but no direct aggression. Observation ongoing.”

Four months, yet no further escalation? No change? And yet, the aggression scale had remained red. Untouched. For what?

Caitlyn’s brow furrowed. She pulled up the entry field and typed a note to herself in the draft box. Just to mark it for later.

RECOMMEND FOLLOW UP. A6 SUBJECT 516 INCONSISTENCIES. MISSING CONSENT FORM. POSSIBLE OUTDATED AGGRESSION METRICS.

Chapter Text

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She saved the note, closing the draft box with a decisive little click, but it wasn't enough to settle the restlessness in her chest.

Her eyes drifted back to the files displayed on the monitor.

One more file. Just to make sure nothing has been missed.

Just as she began navigating through the archived files again, she caught a folder out of the corner of her eye, marked INTAKE LOG — SUBJECT 516. She was expecting to see standard data, maybe things like her weight, blood type, documentation of injury, perhaps a scan or two. What she found instead were photographs.

The images nearly knocked the wind out of Caitlyn’s lungs. She paused as the first photo expanded to full screen.

Vi.

She was truly breathtaking. 

Subject 516. A mop of shock pink hair. A sharp cut above one brow, and faint purple bruises near her cheekbone. Not quite healed, not really. Her mouth was pressed into a hard, defiant like line, and her eyes— great heavens, her eyes. Steel grey, a stark contrast to the tousled pink hair. They burned with something that looked like determination.

But there was something else beneath it too. Weariness. Caitlyn really didn't know what to expect, but it certainly wasn't this. Not someone so—

Beautiful?

Her brows furrowed as she leaned in unconsciously, just to examine this a bit more up close. Beautiful wasn't the right word. It wasn't enough to describe this. Not exactly, but it was close. Vi had the kind of face that refused to dissipate into a file. 

Caitlyn caught herself, pulling back a fraction, just enough to let out a deep breath.

Ridiculous.

The camera itself was not real enough to deserve her full attention.

A loud thud broke through her thoughts.

Behind the glass, Vi had started her abuse on the punching bag. Steady hits, low and measured. Each strike landed with a heavy sound that faintly echoed through the walls.

Well, now she knew what all that wrapping was for.

She clicked to the next image. A profile shot? Then another, angled to show more of the bruised cheekbone and a faint scar, right above her lip. How had she not caught that before? Caitlyn's gaze lingered a second too long before she ended up shutting the folder entirely.

This was a subject. A person. But more than that, someone this facility had classified as ‘dangerous’ through ‘aggressive scale’ logs.

Yet, nothing she’d seen so far matched these said warnings for someone ‘dangerous’.

Another thud. It rocked the bag gently.

A wave of uneasiness passed through her. She didn't know if she could trust this file anymore.

Her hand reached for the secret flash drive she’d brought with her. It was small, small enough to be able to be tucked inside the inner pocket of her coat. She wasn't thinking, no she really wasn't. Just let her fingers slot it in, beginning to copy the log folder.

For recordkeeping. For comparison.

For.. something.

The loading scan of the transfer bar ticked upward percentage by percentage. 

Then, without a warning, the screen flashed.

It opened a black window.

OVERRIDE PROTOCOL — TAKING PLACE NOW
AUTHORIZATION: LEVEL BLACK
EDITING ACTIVE LOG: SUBJECT 516 — FILE ENTRY ‘INTAKE LOG’ 0034

Heartbeat ringing in her ears, she went completely still. 

Words on the screen began flickering. And then a line in entry 0034 had vanished.

“Violation of restraint guidelines [REDACTED] removed from physical therapy..”

Gone.

Not there anymore. 

Thud. Another punch. A little rougher now.

Caitlyn stared, watching as the cursor automatically moved, deleting one sentence, then two more, like someone wiping dirt off of glass.

Whoever was doing this had higher authority than anything her newbie badge could touch. Suffice to say, they were not being subtle about it.

Level Black? Seriously? 

She felt her mouth go dry.

Trembling fingers unplugged the flash drive, right after the bar finished. She yanked it out, slipping it back into her coat with shaking fingers, like she hadn't just watched someone erase a bunch of superficial data.

She looked up to see Vi still hitting the bag. Still measured, still focused, as if nothing could break her. But her posture had slightly shifted. Perhaps she had felt the uneasy shift in the room.

Caitlyn swallowed hard. She joined this internship program at Stillwater Labs to learn. To feel good about being able to conduct life changing legal research.

Not in any way did this at all feel life changing, not in a good way at least. And it sure as hell didn’t feel fucking legal.

The silence in the room thickened, only worsening the heaviness within her chest. Caitlyn couldn’t hear anything except the buzzing of the monitor, and the loud sounds of Vi’s fists meeting the punching bag.

She needed to get out of here. Now.

She pushed herself up from her desk a bit too fast, nearly knocking the chair over. Her hands shook as she stuffed them into her coat, crossing towards the exit of the room.

“You always breathe this loud? Or just when you’ve been poking around where you shouldn’t have.”

Caitlyn stopped dead in her tracks.

She didn’t turn right away, her body refused to. She just stared at the reinforced door, pulse thudding in her ears.

“Didn’t know you were the nervous type,” Vi added, punctuating it with a thud by striking her fist with the bag. “But I guess this place messes with all kinds.” She chuckled lowly.

Caitlyn turned halfway, giving Vi a view of her side profile. Vi didn’t look at her, her movements never stopping. But her attention was sharp, Caitlyn could feel it.

“You’re not like the others. Not at all.” Vi said, quieter this time. “Not yet.”

A chill ran down Caitlyn’s spine. She didn’t answer. She couldn’t answer. What was she supposed to say?

So she did what she thought was best. She left.

°•~━━✥❖✥━━~•°

After many dead ends and asking for directions multiple times, she finally made it to the admin wing. Her pulse was normal again, not thrumming in her ears anymore. And her fingers had stopped shaking.

She found Professor Viktor in his office. A man that surely seemed like he was ready to bolt at any given moment. He clacked away at his keys, face dimly lit a hue of blue from the computer screen. He didn’t look up right away, probably too deep into whatever it was he was doing.

Caitlyn hesitated.

Maybe I should turn back.

No. That wouldn’t be right. She had to make this right.

She slowly knocked on the doorframe.

The man jolted upright, nearly falling out of his seat. He seemed alarmed. Caitlyn quickly apologized.

“Professor Viktor? I- I am so sorry for alarming you, but I need to report something. I think there was an unauthorized alteration to one of the logs, labeled as a “protocol”? Subject 516’s intake file. Someone accessed and edited it, from a level black channel?”

Professor Viktor’s typing slowed, then stopped.

He looked up with a nervous gaze. Then gave a painfully forced smile.

“That’s quite a serious observation, Miss Kiramman.”

“I saw it happen,” Caitlyn insisted. “Lines being deleted in real time. Someone scrubbed a restraint violation. I- I have a copy of the original, I think on my-“

“I’m sure you believe you saw something,” the professor interrupted gently. “But we’ve had recurring issues with certain archived sectors. A few of the old logs usually bug out during access, displaying corrupted or outdated data. Glitches that possibly mimic live edits. Very convincing ones.”

That didn’t make sense at all. That wasn’t what happened. What the hell was this man talking about?

Caitlyn swallowed.

“You said Subject 516’s file?” Professor Viktor continued, as if he was taking notes. “I’ll be sure to report the anomaly to the systems team. But in the future, be cautious when reviewing archived materials. Especially with..” He paused. “Difficult subjects. It’s easy to misunderstand what you’re looking at.”

The way he said ‘difficult’ felt weird. It was a little bit too forced. Just like his smile. And just what was he so nervous about?

Caitlyn stared, something in her gut twisting tightly.

“If you’re feeling overwhelmed, we can reassign your rotation,” The professor offered. “This facility takes its interns well being very seriously. You’re not expected to dive so deep. Especially not within this stage, Miss Kiramman.”

Caitlyn opened her mouth, only to pause, closing it right back. She shouldn’t say anything else.

That same smile remained on Viktor’s face. But his eyes, they were darting around nervously, and he was faintly itching at his collar. It’s as if someone were keeping watch, or even listening.

She was given a choice.

Caitlyn forced a nod, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“Understood, I’ll be sure to let you know.“ she said quietly.

Chapter Text

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Caitlyn woke to the soft buzzing of the overhead light in her room. The space was dimly lit, with barely any furnishings around.

The walls were sleek white, with no windows. Of course. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and cleaning chemicals, causing Caitlyn to scrunch up her nose.

There was something rather unsettling about this area. Perhaps it was the fact that she would have to continue doing this for a year, living in the constant white nose of ventilation and electrical systems.

After the interaction with Professor Viktor, she had headed to her quarters. Feeling well rested, even if the bed was much smaller than what she was used to.

She freshened up in the bathroom then headed over to the dresser, moving some things around and getting ready.

The flash drive sat in her coat, untouched since then.

In an attempt to make the abomination of a ‘bedroom’ more livable, she added a small framed photo of her family back in Piltover, perched right over her room desk. Caitlyn was in the middle with Jayce’s arms slung around her neck, with both her mother and father at her side.

She faintly smiled, recalling how chaotic it had been to take this photo.

The residential wing for interns was located three floors above the observation rooms, sealed off and exclusive to fingerprint only access. Not many interns had to stay overnight, or at least not full time like how Caitlyn was. Most of them came for brief shifts, not as advanced as her position. 

She hadn't unpacked much, considering that it was the first day after orientation. Her suitcase sat half unzipped in the corner, a few folded shirts were messily stacked atop one another. She couldn't bring herself to settle in, not anymore.

Not after what she was just exposed to on her first day here. Not when the memory of the override protocol and conversation with the professor still made her fingers twitch.

She rubbed at her temples, squeezing her eyes shut.

What now?

Her thoughts, Vi’s photos, the edits, Viktor’s dismissal, it all just kept looping in her head, resembling a corrupted file she wasn't able to get rid of.

Caitlyn stared at her reflection in the mirror, arms gripping the sides of the dresser.

You're not like the others. Not yet.

She shook her head.

That voice. Rasped low, laced with something softer beneath and tight with knowing. It just kept replaying louder than anything else.

Vi had been watching her yesterday, and not just with interest, but with recognition. As if she already saw what this was bound to spiral into.

She sighed, carding her fingers through her hair.

°•~━━✥❖✥━━~•°

Breakfast was surely something else. The amount of interns and staff members overwhelmed her, she almost forgot just how big this program was going to be. She sat with a group of interns from Piltover, some she recognized, making small chat here and there. Maybe this part wasn't so bad.

Suddenly, she quickly shifted, beginning to wrap up the conversations and breakfast altogether, remembering the daily review starting soon, and the active observation on Vi for later.

Later that morning, Caitlyn kept her expression neutral, hands folded neatly over her datapad as she waited for the daily review meeting to finish. She was sat at the edge of the lab wing, they were all in the conference room.

This was called the ‘ debrief ’’, it was a thirty minute rundown of lab schedules, behavior updates, and minor warnings and reminders. The air today felt different, almost suffocating as she waited. Then, her name came up, it was said with just a bit too much precision. 

“Miss Kiramman,” Dr. Reveck said, flipping through a file. “There was some flagged activity under your access last night. Could you clarify this?”

Caitlyn kept her tone mild, putting on her best face of neutrality. “I was reviewing archived logs from Subject 516’s folder. I noticed inconsistencies in her intake notes and copied the folder for  verification.”

“Without request,” Reveck cut in, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.

She felt the shift of several heads turning to look toward her. Caitlyn moved slightly in her seat, but she did not flinch.

“No data was altered. Just preserved. I noticed the live edit and assumed the systems would want the original, merely for comparison.”

He smiled. Thin, tight lipped. “And what qualified you to make this call?”

Because you're all lying , she wanted to say. Because someone erased the truth right in front of her, expecting her to pretend like she hadn't seen it. 

“I was trained in metadata tracking and legal preservation. I acted out of concern for record integrity, sir.” It took everything in Caitlyn to not spew out her real thoughts.

Dr. Reveck studied her a moment longer, then hummed and returned to reviewing. “We’ll note it. But be mindful going forward. Curiosity is commendable, Miss Kiramman. Recklessness is not.”

The meeting moved on. But something had shifted. She could feel it.

Caitlyn’s footsteps echoed softly down the unnerving hallway as she left the lab wing. Her coat hugged tightly around her, hiding the flash drive which was nestled deep inside her inner pocket. She was still replaying Professor Viktor’s nervous smile and vague warnings, along with Dr. Reveck's words.

Difficult subjects . The words felt like a warning. Maybe a threat.

The door hissed behind her.

Caitlyn was halfway back to her workstation when her datapad vibrated softly with a new notification. She swiped to read it, still slightly rattled from the earlier exchange.

Before she could sink too deeply into her thoughts, she remembered that in a few minutes, it would be the start of her active observation. The notification on the device a reminder.

ACTIVE OBSERVATION INITIATING SHORTLY

SUBJECT 516 — DIRECT ANALYSIS REQUIRED

ASSIGNING: INTERN CAITLYN KIRAMMAN

DURATION: 1 WEEK

ESCORT ARRIVAL IN 10 MINUTES

She stared at it.

A week?

This wasn't what she signed up for.

At least, not like this.

Active observation meant stepping inside the subject’s controlled environment. It meant monitored dialogue, physical proximity, interaction. It was supposed to be a more advanced step that occurred later into the internship program.

It wasn't something interns did in their first month. Not something you started right after you reported a log tampering.

Unless, this wasn’t a reward for her diligence.

It was a test.

Caitlyn visibly swallowed, the air around her already feeling thicker, uncomfortable. Behind the glass, Vi tilted her head, as if she sensed the change. Maybe she could, Caitlyn wouldn't be surprised. Especially after the way she was easily read by the other woman yesterday.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Vi’s mouth. Caitlyn huffed, annoyance already flaring in her chest.

Nothing but trouble.

°•~━━✥❖✥━━~•°

Vi’s room felt colder than the rest of any part of this facility. At least, to Caitlyn it did. She slowly stepped inside after reviewing the protocol methods, pretending she wasn't hesitating. Pretending the weight in her limbs wasn't anticipation.

Vi stood by the wall, her body loose and posture lazy. Her new clothes consisted of a thin white shirt and simple shorts, standard for all long term subjects during physical evaluations. It was practical. Maybe even dehumanizing, if Caitlyn let herself dwell on it.

Caitlyn’s breath hitched. 

The fabric clung to Vi’s frame, accentuating her musculature beneath it. The slow rise and fall of her chest revealed the way her abs constricted with each breath. 

Focus.

She was stretching out her shoulders like she had already been expecting someone. Well she had. Her hands were still wrapped, though slightly frayed and loose now, streaked with faint red where the knuckles split. 

“So,” Vi said, not looking up. “How are we doing this?”

Caitlyn didn't answer immediately. She stepped closer into the room, the door sealing with a final click behind her. The sound of the click rang through her ears.

She moved carefully, setting her tablet on the small table near the wall. Her fingers tapped to log the confirmed time, condition, and protocol. She avoided looking at Vi’s face. Or her body. Well she tried to. She avoided looking at anything that might've sparked awareness again.

“The protocol requires an initial check-in,” she said, voice even, though her pulse betrayed her, spiking up. “Vitals, mood evaluation, and any signs of fatigue. I won't touch you unless medically necessary. We can even keep our distance, if you prefer.”

Vi finally looked up, eyes narrowing in amusement. “Wow. Practiced that one, huh?”

Caitlyn flushed. “It’s for your safety!” she sputtered. “And mine.”

Vi tilted her head. “Sure. But you’re still the one standing in a locked room with a dangerous alpha.”

Dangerous?

Surely not.

Vi chuckled, clearly enjoying this way more than she should be.

After scribbling a few things, she cleared her throat.

“Subject 516,” she began, voice now clipped and professional. “I’ll need to take your pulse manually, per today's directive.” A determined expression crossed her face. “Is that okay?”

Vi’s head snapped up, eyes flashing steel grey, expression changing from a smirk to a frown. Her gaze turned sharp. Caitlyn felt that unyielding energy radiating from her, thickening the air between them. Her pulse quickened, but not just from the nerves. The subtle scent of Vi, it was something earthy, raw, and faintly citrusy. It stirred something deep inside her.

Vi didn't speak as she lowered herself slowly onto the cold metal stool nearby, crossing her arms. It was a clear boundary, but not a refusal.

She swallowed, the warmth in her throat matched by the unmistakable heat pooling low in her belly. 

Her face burned with shame. If Vi noticed, she hadn't said anything.

Now is not the time.

Tentatively, she reached out, trembling fingers brushing against Vi’s skin. The moment her forefinger and middle finger touched the cool flesh of Vi’s wrist, both of them paused. The surge was immediate, activating an undercurrent of tension between them.

Her skin tingled where they met, a spark igniting that felt both powerful and dangerous. Vi’s pulse beat strong and steady beneath her fingers. 

Was it speeding up?

Vi’s breath hitched just slightly, a subtle intake betraying the awareness of the contact of Caitlyn’s closeness. Caitlyn felt a flutter deep in her chest. There was an unmistakable pull between the two.

Caitlyn clenched her jaw.

Count the beats, just log them. Don't think about the way Vi’s arm slightly tensed under her touch. Don't think about how Vi’s gaze was now fixed on her. Watching. Waiting.

“Your hands are shaking,” Vi murmured, voice low.

Caitlyn’s breath stuttered, her stomach tightening. She finally glanced up at Vi’s face.

Vi’s eyes locked on hers, steel grey burning into cerulean blue. The fragile line of trust threaded between them was unspoken. Realizing she had distracted herself, she pulled back, reluctantly. The warmth lingered on her skin.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice soft, despite the contact that had just occurred.

Vi’s gaze softened, before she turned away, returning to her measured face.

Caitlyn stepped back, ready to log her findings. Her heart threatened to jump out of her chest with just how fast it was beating. A swirling mix of emotions swept over her. 

The room felt charged with the promise of something more, maybe not a connection forged with words, but one through pulse and breath.

°•~━━✥❖✥━━~•°

Caitlyn exited the observation room calmly, the door clicking shut behind her. But the moment she was out of sight, her shoulders slumped slightly, and her hand instinctively pressed against her chest.

She could still feel it.

The echo of Vi’s pulse, steady and alive beneath her fingers. The slight quickening of the beats hadn’t gone unnoticed by her.

Her heels tapped softly against the polished tiles as she made her way to the bathroom, needing a moment to clear her mind.

A few tech staff passed with little more than brief nods, no one lingering. No one asking how it went.

As soon as she was back at her workstation, she spotted Vi through the glass, resting easily on her bed with a book in her hands.

Deciding not to want to interrupt the subject any further, she slid into her seat, booting up the terminal once more. The scanner blinked before it read her credentials, accepting them with an affirming beep.

SUBJECT 516 – DIRECT OBSERVATIONAL LOG

INITIAL VITALS: CONFIRMED

PULSE: STEADY [ ] BPM

MOOD: CONTROLLED, GUARDED

PHYSICAL COMPLIANCE: PASSIVE

Caitlyn stared at the screen, fingers hovering over the keys.

Passive.

It wasn’t entirely accurate. Vi hadn’t resisted, but there was something far from passive about her. The tension had been alive, and it felt electric. A current that sparked, started by no one, but felt by both.

She backspaced and rewrote it.

COMPLIANT, OBSERVED RESTRAINT

She frowned. She didn’t want to get Vi in trouble any further, remembering seeing bruise marks and the erased logs. She erased it, leaving only COMPLIANT.

There. That was better.

It was safe. But even as she typed, Caitlyn opened a second hidden file, only accessible with a special code. One she’d created in secret some time earlier.

PERSONAL MEMO - C.K. / UNSENT

Entry 001

“The alpha’s response to touch was immediate. Not aggressive, but aware. Hyper aware, almost. I was told this subject was dangerous, different, even. She is present. Watching. Possibly assessing me.”

She hesitated before writing the last line.

“I’m not sure what this protocol expects from me, but I know that Subject 516 is far different from what they say.”

Her hand trembled slightly as she saved it, burying the entry deep under layers of encryption. She closed it out quickly, then stood up and left the lab.

That night, the quiet in her room was unbearable.

The light on her desk buzzed faintly. The bed was still too narrow, the sheets too stiff, the air too clean. All a reminder of why she didn’t want to be here anymore. Not really.

Maybe she wanted to help save Vi. Is that what this was? What is she going for here? But what could she do?

She sat on the edge of the mattress, the data pad resting in her lap. The glow of the device illuminated her face, forcing her to squint.

Her thumb hovered over the screen, before she reached into her pocket, pulling out the flash drive.

Chapter Text

‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙

Caitlyn sat on the edge of her squeezed bed with the device propped up against her knees. The lifeless, white walled, windowless room only heightened her nervousness. It felt even smaller tonight, the faint pulsing of the light even louder than before.

Her shoulders ached, carrying the heaviness of the day. She felt way too tense, her posture in bed even rigid.

She had waited until the lights went out, until the corridors were quiet, and sealed her door shut. There would be no one to keep watch or look at what she was about to do now. No one to glance over her shoulder.

Should she really be doing this? No, definitely not.

But is there really anything stopping her? No, not really.

She slid the flash drive into the side port with a soft click, ignoring every warning in her head. An affirming ding sounded, a clear signal that the drive was being read.

The screen went black, before it blinked once more.

Lines of data spilled across and onto the display, it flashed past her as the drive was being read, hidden files and all now showing. The nested folders were buried beneath layers of anonymized tags and names. Some labeled in weird numerical combinations, others tagged with a letter along with symbols. Whoever was trying to keep these files hidden certainly failed.

Then, amidst the chaos of folders and files filling her screen, a singular one caught her eye. Her heart almost stopped beating.

RUT MONITORING DIRECTIVE

She went still, her breath hitching.

What type of monitoring had to be done for this?

For some reason, the capitalized words that were formatted here as every other header felt even heavier. Her fingers tightened around the data pad, squeezing the device as she tried to process this without going any crazier.

Rut monitoring.

She stared at it, not knowing what to make of it. What could they possibly be tracking here? Her first instinct was to tell herself there was probably more to this. But it was too direct, no other way to mask the truth written before her.

Rut. Monitoring. Directive.

This wasn't even studying. It was directing.

What the fuck?

Her chest tightened, breath coming out in shallow puffs.

Hesitantly, she scrolled down, eyes locking onto the files under it. Subject data, hormonal suppression reports, behavioral logs, more of those again? They were all half labeled, as if someone had attempted to keep them hidden, some were partially redacted.

She couldn't bring herself to click on them just yet.

Caitlyn stared at the files for another long moment, her thumb hovering just above the screen, itching to press and look more into this. Her skin felt heated despite the coldness of the room, wrist aching with the desire to click.

Then slowly, she pulled away.

She couldn't do this, no. Not tonight.

She clicked back out of the folder then yanked the drive out, setting the data pad on top of the nightstand. Her fingers lingered there for a second, brushing the hard casing.

She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms loosely around her legs, her forehead resting against them as she sat in the quiet of the darkness, letting it swallow up her thoughts.

She slept restlessly that night.

°•~━━✥❖✥━━~•°

The corridors of the lab and its halls had not changed, but Caitlyn had.

After last night, everything felt alarmingly surreal, and not in a good way. No, everything felt way more different now. She didn't know how far this facility was willing to protect their image, but one thing was certain. She’d do whatever it took to bring justice to this disgusting operation.

She walked through the halls as she had the day before, a clipboard tucked under one arm, the data pad in hand. Her badge scanned through the doors that no longer looked as benevolent as they had a few days ago.

The blinding white lights, the silence, it all made her skin itch. It all made her feel like she was being watched. Every door she passed hummed with unspoken secrets.

The debrief had gone smoothly, no more questions were fired at her like they had been yesterday. She quickly left the admin room, and prepared for what was next.

A low shudder passed through her body as she approached Observation Room D.

Subject 516—no, Vi—was waiting.

There had been no such thing of a sweet dream as soon as she had stepped foot in these labs. Only that pulse of unease, acquired through that file’s name. It was branded somewhere behind her eyes, permanently burned into her memory.

Whatever was in that file could wait until the end of today. The contents of it would probably haunt her for the rest of her time being. She already had enough to manage on her own today, but soon, she’d get to it.

°•~━━✥❖✥━━~•°

She stepped into Vi’s room, letting out a deep exhale of relief. After zipping through the halls to avoid any sort of contact with anyone else, she allowed herself a few quiet moments of stillness, using the time to review today’s procedures.

Vitals, again.

She huffed out a breath, her brows pinching together in irritation.

Yesterday had gotten under her skin. Surely, it couldn't have been that bad. Maybe she was overreacting. But no, those lingering touches had set her nerves alight, leaving her skin flushed and pulse high.

Now in the quiet, it all came rushing back to her. So did the memory of what she’d seen last night.

She still didn't know what to do about it. Nothing felt ordinary anymore. No, especially not after that file.

Vi sat where she had been the day before, legs sprawled, head tilted back, as if she hadn't moved a muscle since Caitlyn’s leave. Her posture was relaxed, though her eyes were anything but. They locked onto Caitlyn with too much focus for someone supposedly sedated into compliance.

“Morning, Doc,” Vi said, low and rough, a goofy grin spreading across her face. It held a note of amusement, maybe even mischief.

Caitlyn clicked her pen once, brows drawn in a tight line. She didn't respond just yet, unable to trust her voice in the moment. Instead, she moved to the small terminal stand to the right of the room, each step feeling like a forced attempt at cooperation with her body.

She tucked the pen in hand into her coat pocket, and put down the clipboard with a bit more force than necessary, drawing a low whistle out of Vi.

Caitlyn rolled her eyes, though the faint smile on her face betrayed her.

“Vitals,” she said, trying to keep her tone even. “Extend your arm, please.”

Vi didn't move right away. Her gaze drifted over Caitlyn slowly, prying almost, as if she were searching for something lost in her.

“You seem off today,” she said eventually. “Didn’t sleep well?”

Caitlyn blinked. She froze, just for a moment.

“Your vitals,” she repeated herself, more firmly this time.

Vi raised a singular eyebrow before complying, knowing better than to test Caitlyn’s patience. She stretched out her arm with a slight flex of muscle, the motion drawing Caitlyn’s eye. Muscle shifting beneath skin, a few prominent veins threading across her forearm.

Ink curled its way around Vi’s skin, and Caitlyn’s breath caught. How had she not noticed that before?

It was a map of smoke, gears, and symbols. It wasn't just a tattoo, there was meaning woven deep into it. Something told her it didn't just hold one person's story, but multiples. Maybe if she got the chance, she'd ask someday. She shook herself out of it, she has more important things to focus on right now.

Caitlyn stepped closer and reached out, her fingers wrapping around Vi’s wrist.

And there it was.

That heat.

Vi’s pulse was beating steady and strong beneath her touch, feeling warm, almost alive. But there was something else entirely, something simmering just under the surface of her touch. It made Caitlyn’s fingers tremble, ever so slightly. She could feel it.

The moment thickened. The air between them grew as heavy as the silence wrapping around them.

With her free hand, Caitlyn recorded the numbers on a small sheet of paper, planning to input them into her work terminal later. Her handwriting was slightly slanted, the result of just how tightly she had been gripping the pen.

“You always this jumpy?” Vi asked, her smirk faltering, replaced with—was that concern now? “Or did something… happen?”

Caitlyn’s head snapped up. “What are you implying?”

Vi mouth twitched into something unreadable, amusement wiped clean off her face. “Just seems like you saw something you weren’t supposed to.”

A breath caught in Caitlyn’s throat. Her body stayed still, but something in her chest tightened.

“You’re being paranoid,” she said quietly.

“Am I?” Vi chuckled, humorlessly. “That’s ironic.”

Caitlyn quickly let go of her wrist in a flash and took a step back, her gaze fixed on the floor. The echo of her touch still lingered, one that was seared into her skin. She turned her attention back to the papers she left at the side of the room, forcing herself to jot down the rest of the data, ignoring how heavy her chest had become.

The space between them felt too tight now. Too heated.

Neither of them spoke for a long moment, letting the quietness stretch.

Then, Vi broke the silence. “You smell different today.” She scrunched her nose, making a show of it.

Caitlyn stilled.

Her gaze stayed locked on her clipboard, fingers gripping the pen harder. 

She did not just say that.

"That’s rather inappropriate to discuss.”

Vi gave a quiet, humorless chuckle. “Wasn’t meant to be inappropriate ,” she said, mocking Caitlyn’s accent. “Just true.”

Caitlyn frowned, then looked up—really looked. Those steel grey eyes were still fixed on her, watching and reading every move she made, assessing everything she said carefully. It was like they could see through her entirely, down into the depths of her soul. Effortlessly, even.

And the scary thing was—she’d let them.

°•~━━✥❖✥━━~•°

Caitlyn didn't head straight back to her dorm for her short break. No, she couldn't do that just yet.

Instead, she walked the short distance down the dim corridor, scanning her badge into the workplace divided by glass across from Vi. 

From here, she’d be able to monitor her until she’d finished putting in the data from today. Then, she’d go and get some rest in her dorm.

The other side of the room, through the glass, now only showed darkness. The lights on Vi’s side had already dimmed for the night. 

Still, she was able to make out the silhouette of Vi, lying in her bed with an arm folded behind her head, seemingly at ease.

Caitlyn tried not to stare. Really, she did try. But those muscles were truly something else.

She gulped, heat rising to her cheeks.

Snap out of it.

She powered on the terminal, finishing the direct observational log. 

She opened up the hidden file right after, making sure no footsteps were able to be heard in the hallway before inputting the special code.

PERSONAL MEMO - C.K. / UNSENT

Entry 002

“The alpha presented with stable vitals, comparable to yesterday’s baseline. Slight elevation in pulse upon direct contact. No clear signs of distress or agitation are able to be noted.”

“Behavior remained elusive. 516 was alert, possibly more so than the previous protocol readings would suggest. Awareness of observation seems acute. Interaction was..”

She paused, staring at the screen, eyebrows furrowing. Was what?

“..laced with familiar verbal deflection. 516 initiated unnecessary commentary, most likely to elicit a response. May be testing boundaries. 516 also made a reference to scent changes-”

Her fingers stilled. She backspaced halfway through the line, ready to retype.

“The alpha referenced scent changes. Noted a shift from the previous day. Significance of reference unclear.”

Caitlyn slightly leaned back in the chair. The light of the screen bounced off her tired face.

She hadn't written everything she wanted to. Not the part about how it had felt . Not the strange warmth, or the flush that had overtook nearly her whole body. And definitely not the part about how Vi’s eyes had seemed to just know .

She couldn't write this vulnerable information down just yet. Not until she knew it was clear to do so.

Saving the log, she shut down the terminal, and stood.

Beyond the glass, she noticed that Vi hadn't moved, but Caitlyn could still feel the weight of her presence. Even from here.

She turned away, pressing the door open with a click. Her steps down the hall were slower now, more precise, more measured, heavier with something that was unable to be named.

Her room was waiting and so were those hidden files.

°•~━━✥❖✥━━~•°

Caitlyn sat cross legged on the stiff mattress, the datapad already powered on and waiting in her lap. She practically threw herself onto the bed as soon as she’d washed up and changed, ready to see what was on it.

She locked the door behind her before she plopped down on the bed. The ceiling light had been turned off. The only source of light now was from the blueish glow of the screen that illuminated her face.

This was it—no more second guessing anymore.

With a trembling breath, she slid the flash drive back into the port. The system blinked alive in response, loading the hidden directories again. She tapped quickly through the layers, muscle memory already guiding her fingers.

There it was. Again.

RUT MONITORING DIRECTIVE

This time, she didn't allow herself to pause. She clicked it for real this time, not just scrolling past everything, but analyzing. Rows of subfolders were sprawled across the screen.

She scrolled deeper, fingertips twitching with each folder she opened. 

SUBJECT 516 — ACTIVE ‘CYCLE’ MONITORING

Her thumb hovered over a file underneath, which was simply labeled as VISUAL RECORDS.

She tapped it open.

Hundreds of image files filled the screen. All timestamped, some noted, some labeled. And every single one of them was of Vi.

Caitlyn immediately stiffened. Her breath caught somewhere between ribs.

There were some shots of her sitting. Some where she was even standing, sleeping, or in profile. One was close up, allowing Caitlyn the time to count her freckles if she truly wanted to.

Count her freckles? 

Caitlyn frowned, scrolling down to the other images. 

One showed her mid-turn and caught in motion, neck exposed, showing another tattoo that could possibly be connected to the ones on her arms. Another had captured her in the middle of stretching, probably in preparation to exercise. 

Her shoulders were rolled back, her tank top clinging to the sharp definition of her abdominals. In one, her mouth was parted slightly, exhaling. She was covered in a sheen of sweat, skin glistening with it.

They seemed.. intimate? Not really in pose, but in presence. 

None of these looked like the type of shots one would find in routine surveillance.

Caitlyn felt her face heat. Her fingers played loosely with the fabric of her nightgown.

Why were these saved like this?

Who was collecting them? And why?

She should've stopped looking, but she didn't.

Her eyes dragged over the images. It’s like her brain was trying to memorize every subtle tilt of Vi’s expression, every ripple of muscle in her arms. The way she looked so mesmerizing, no matter what she was doing.

Caitlyn swallowed hard. Even if she tried to ignore it, Vi had this unmistakable pull to her. She was effortlessly attractive in every way.

Hell, she could literally feel her core throbbing in response.

A bead of sweat rolled down the side of her face.

The room felt way hotter now, and too quiet.

She exited the image folder with in a hard blink, like snapping herself out of a trance.

One area down. Several more to review.

Taking a deep breath, she scrolled back up and clicked open another folder, one she hadn’t dared to earlier. 

HORMONAL MANIPULATION

Her fingers felt clammy just from reading the title. She clicked open the folder, heart racing, not knowing what to expect. 

Inside, several reports waited, each stamped with long strings of dates, identifiers, and warning labels. One file had stood out to her immediately. 

SUBJECT 516—FORCED RUT INDUCTION

LOG—???

DOSAGE VERSION—V.1 B

Her heart kicked up, but she couldn’t stop. 

With trembling fingers, she opened the log and began to read.

“Subject 516 displayed increased aggression resistance during natural hormonal decline. Dosage V.1 B was administered on Day 2. Result: forced onset of rut symptoms, strengthened even. Isolation protocol was not enforced. Subject exposed to a controlled environment. Observation window extended to [REDACTED] ”

What. The. Fuck.

What the hell did that even mean?

She scrolled down further.

“Behavioral shift noted within 2.5 hours of chemical trigger. Increased physiological output. Subject entered nonverbal state. Attempted [REDACTED] ..”

Gods-

She blinked hard, skimming until her eyes snagged on a file attachment. A still image, likely a surveillance capture. 

It was Vi- straining against the wall of an unknown room, pupils wide, and bloodshot. Her muscles strained, twisting in a painful like state. Her skin was slick with sweat, pink hair clinging to her face in damp strands. A timestamp noted the exact hour, it was late into the night, past midnight. 

Caitlyn slapped a hand to her mouth.

They weren’t just observing her. No- they were quite literally tampering with her, as if she were an object. Like she wasn’t a person as well.

Another line, near the bottom, caused a shudder to pass over her body.

“Subject remains non compliant. Further exposure to stimuli pending.”

Just what the hell had they exposed her to?

Caitlyn couldn’t breathe.

Chapter Text

‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙

Caitlyn jolted awake with a gasp, heart beating out of her chest, and with her breath caught in her throat.

The room before her was too dark, too quiet. It did nothing to calm her nerves. Everything was too still. She couldn't breathe, not with her heart beating so erratically. 

Her sheets were twisted around her legs, drenched with sweat. She tried to blink away the image that she couldn't unsee—Vi, straining, trembling, and her pupils wide and bloodshot with something that wasn't just fear.

She sat up abruptly, pressing a hand to her mouth as a wave of nausea washed over her. 

It came in slow waves at first, curling unpleasantly in her stomach before coming to crash upward, tasting bitter and unrelenting. She was barely able to make it to the sink in time. 

Hunched over the sink and hurling was just the way she would have wanted to start her morning. Cold water splashed into the sink as she ran the tap. Her other hand was braced against the edge of the counter, knuckles white as she stared into the mirror.

Her eyes burned with unshed tears. She hadn't cried last night, not when she’d seen that image, not even after reading the cold summaries of what they had been doing to Vi. But now, in the early hours of the morning, in the quiet of a room that felt too cramped and silent, the tears slipped down her cheeks freely, without her permission.

What they did to her. It wasn't just monitoring, it wasn't even manipulation anymore. No, it was a fucking violation , under the sembalance of research. They had triggered Vi’s rut. No, forced it. They waited for her to lash out, for what? Just for some logs, and then expose her to some stimuli?

Caitlyn’s throat constricted.

No one had said anything about that at the orientation, nor were they in the files. Not out loud, no. There were no names, no faces. This was a language built upon redacted data and unspoken information, making it easier to pretend that it was all for science .

But Vi—she wasn't an experiment. She wasn't just someone to test on. She was a person, a woman, and she had been reduced to some sort of biology project. Manipulated her biology, even without consent.

Caitlyn rinsed her face with ice cold water, blinking the tears back against the sting of it. She couldn't stay in this room anymore. No, not with that image burned behind her eyelids. 

Not with the knowledge that Vi had been drugged into a state of vulnerability that she did not choose, monitored as if she were some sort of an animal, all while Caitlyn was here. Just a few corridors away. Sleeping, eating, and living peacefully, as if nothing was wrong.

She straightened her back, wiping her face with the towel provided, her jaw clenched hard. Today she’d return to the observation room. She didn't know how she would look Vi in the eye, but she had to. 

Someone needed to see her for what she really was, someone needed to help her.

Some needed to bear witness to these unethical acts made for the purpose of science .

She needed help—yes, that's what she needed. 

Caitlyn snatched up her phone, hands shaking, as she scrolled rapidly through her contacts. She was frantically scrolling until she found the contact, dialing it almost immediately.

The rings echoed into the silence of the room, doing nothing to calm her down.

“ Hey Sprout! ”

Caitlyn swallowed hard, trying to steady her breaths. She could feel the tears threatening to spill over again, almost breaking at the sound of his voice.

“Jayce,” she said, voice trembling and breathless. “Jayce. I—I need to talk to you.”

His tone shifted immediately. “Hey, whoa! You okay, Cait? What’s going on? Is everything alright?”

No. Fuck . Absolutely nothing here was alright.

She buried her fingers in her hair, lightly dragging them through it as she paced the room.

“I saw something,” she said. “In some sealed off logs. It was about this subject— 516 .” Her voice wavered, but she continued on, lowering her voice a bit. “They triggered a rut, response, Jayce. They.. they’ve been doing things they shouldn't be doing.”

Silence followed from the other line.

Still, she pushed forward. “Subject 516. Vi. They drugged her, restrained her. I think—” her voice cracked. “They were trying to force a bond. Or study what happens during a forced rut.”

When he finally spoke, he sounded like he’d been punched in the gut. 

“Fuck.”

“You knew,” she whispered, eyes wide. “Didn't you?”

“No.” His answer was immediate. “Not like that. I knew they were doing something with hormonal suppression and rut cycles, but I—I thought it was just.. I didn't know they were forcing the response. Or exposing them to—” he stopped himself, probably for the better. “Caitlyn, I swear to you, I didn't know.”

Caitlyn believed him, she really did. But it wasn't helping.

“Why would they do that?” she asked, chest heaving. “What's the fucking point?”

Jayce hesitated. “Some of the theories—there’s been debate in previous high tier publications for years about rut control, something to do with aggression during it, how it could possibly be controlled? Fuck —I don't know, but no ones ever pushed it this far. It's not research—its testing—”

“She’s not a test subject,” Caitlyn said. Her voice was trembling again, and she hated it. “She’s a person, Jayce .”

“I know.”

Another pause. She could hear shifting and movement on the other side of the line, probably moving to another area of the house.

“Okay, Cait. Listen . You cannot put this in your public logs. You’ll get flagged. Just keep doing what you're doing—observe, record, but do it quietly . Keep it on the low .”

Her stomach turned, she could feel the waves of nausea returning once again, threatening to crash over her.

“Jayce, I don't know if I can . I don't even know if I—I can look her in the eye .”

“You have to,” he said gently. “Because you might be the only one who sees her as more than a subject over there.”

She pressed the palm of her hand to her forehead, trying to breathe through the overwhelming mix of emotions—guilt, nausea, and anger .

Anger that no one has done anything, no one has spoken up about this mistreatment.

“I’m so sorry,” he added, tone softer now. “I never wanted this for you. I never even knew you’d apply for it. I thought it would be different. Real science— shit , not— this .”

“It’s not your fault,” she murmured. “But we need to do something.”

“We will,” Jayce said. “But we can't, not yet. Just hold steady, Cait. I'm with you. Okay?”

She nodded, even though he couldn't see it. Her voice was barely something above a whisper.

“Okay.”

°•~━━✥❖✥━━~•°

Caitlyn walked past the corridors like she was dreaming. No, this was the complete opposite of a dream. It was a nightmare.

Suddenly, a figure approached her, clamping its fingers around her wrist.

“Hey—” her eyes widened once she realized who it was. “Professor Viktor?”

“Caitlyn,” the professor looked around nervously before directing his gaze back onto her. “Follow me.”

Caitlyn’s pulse jumped as she was dragged away.

Viktor’s grip wasn't anything harsh, actually, far from that. But it was firm, like a sense of urgency was guiding her. He didn't wait for her consent before steering her down a side corridor, away from the main path of the observation wing. It was probably best to avoid the eyes of others. His slight limp made their pace uneven. She followed without asking questions, any words stuck in her throat. She’d have to ask later.

They passed through a maintenance door, one she hadn't even noticed before. What else has she missed around here? They walked into another narrow hallway, a service one, perhaps, dimly lit by a few scattered lights.

Viktor finally stopped in front of a closed door marked with no label. A steel panel with numbers and below it a fingerprint reader. He typed in a code and scanned his thumb.

An affirming ding sounded through the silence as the lock released with a click .

Inside was a small, windowless office, dimly lit and cluttered with screens, old tools and prototypes, and loose stacks of files. It was nothing like the measured cleanliness of the main labs. This room felt homier, like it was lived in.

The professor closed the door behind them.

“I don’t have much time,” he said, his voice low, tone clipped. “And neither do you, Miss Kiramman.”

Caitlyn stood frozen, shocked, unaware of what to say. “What is this?”

“The lab has layers, Caitlyn. Layers even I, myself, am afraid to speak to Jayce about.”

Jayce . Of course this rush was his doing.

“What you’ve seen—subject 516, her file? That’s just the top of this.

" You .” She stepped closer, heart hammering against her ribs, she kept her voice level despite her anger. “You know what they’re doing to her.”

“I know more than I want to,” Viktor admitted, his face falling into an expression of regret. He ran a hand through his hair, now using that hand to adjust his glasses. He looked more exhausted and frantic than the last time she’d seen him. “They’re not just monitoring bond-like responses, or rut triggers. They’re attempting to test protocols between alphas and omegas, trying to design them.”

“ Design them ?” she repeated, horrified.

“They want to incorporate bonding through emotional submission, maybe even through physical methods? I'm not sure but—it’s what they’re calling ‘compliance thresholds.’ They’ve been adjusting variables for months, along with the dosage schedules, and hormonal interferences.”

He looked away from Caitlyn as he continued.

“Vi—she’s one of the primary variables in a long line of.. failed tests .”

Caitlyn took a deep breath, then exhaled. 

“Where.. where exactly did they find these now.. ‘ failed tests ’.”

The professor met her gaze nervously. “Stillwater prison, or off the streets of Zaun. But I believe Vi—she was a previous inmate at the prison.”

Caitlyn clamped a hand over her mouth, terrified.

Stillwater prison, Stillwater labs.

They’d been testing on poor civilians and inmates of the prison. She couldn't tell what was worse, the bile rising up in her throat, or the fact that she was working in a place where people thought it was okay to run these kinds of tests.

Chapter Text

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Caitlyn was mentally preparing herself as she stood before the door that would lead her straight into Vi’s observatory room.

It was day three of her ongoing observation with the other woman, and already things just seemed to feel worse and worse, spiraling out of her control. 

After taking a deep breath, she decided it would be best to complete the observation. So long as it made more time and space for her to focus on understanding and freeing Vi. 

She clicked a combination of numbers into the wall, and completed a final badge scan, prompting the door to open. She stepped in, trying her very best to not let her thoughts be clouded by the image and information last night. Her grip on her device faltered as a shiver ran down her spine, trying to brush off the feeling of unease.

Blinking a bit to straighten her mind, she spots Vi already sitting atop the stool, back faced to Caitlyn as her leg bounced up and down.

Her head had slightly turned when Caitlyn entered the room, but she didn't speak. Nor did she smirk or smugly grin as she usually did.

Something was definitely off.

Her body was tense, her arms held onto the stool with great force, flexing her muscles. So much force that Caitlyn was surprised it hadn't broken already.

She turned her head once again, along with her body, now facing Caitlyn. She didn't realize that Caitlyn’s eyes were still glued onto her.

Vi seemed jittery, nervous even. Her movements were shaky as her eyes darted around the room, right until they landed on Caitlyn.

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow, causing the subject to look away, her gaze now fixed onto the cold, hard floor.

Why was Vi behaving like this? Did she know about what Caitlyn had found?

For the first time that Caitlyn had been assigned to Vi, she wasn't trying to meet her eyes, or come up with any snarky remarks.

Her throat tightened, she was unsure why it made her feel this way. She glanced down at the screen in between her hands, which she decided to bring today. It would make logging easier to transport if she was able to input information, since the device would be right next to her. She gently set the device aside.

Caitlyn stepped closer hesitantly.

“Vi?”

The subject visibly tensed, noticing that it was the first time Caitlyn had called out to her using her real name. She received no answer.

Swallowing hard, she moved another step closer.

“Are you alright?” Caitlyn asked quietly.

How foolish of her to ask about the state of Vi’s well being when she knew for a fact that it was definitely not alright. She looked restless, her movements were too sharp, even the way she moved seemed like she was forcing it.

“Didn't sleep,” Vi muttered, “Not that it matters.”

Her hands were trembling, now on top of her knees. It was barely noticeable, but Caitlyn had been trained to pick up any types of changes, it was almost like a speciality of hers.

Today, Vi wasn't sitting still. No, she was continuously flexing her fingers, shifting her posture, as if her skin felt too wrong to be living in. Her hair was disheveled with her skin glistening, slicked with sweat.

Caitlyn took another step forward, then another. She knew she shouldn't, she didn't know how Vi would react, especially if she was on that stimulus they mentioned.

“I need to take your vitals, Vi.” Her voice was so, so gentle. How could you blame Vi for giving in?

That sweet voice always seemed to spur something within her.

She didn't object, no, how could she? She couldn't. She only glanced up at her with wide, glassy eyes, the grey of them nearly drowning in powder blue depths.

Caitlyn approached carefully, as cautious as she could be. She pulled her fingers forward, stopping, hovering right over Vi’s wrist.

“Is this okay?”

Vi nodded, appreciative of Caitlyn making sure she was comfortable with the situation. 

She brought her fingers closer now, wrapping them loosely around Vi’s wrist, her breath catching as she did so. Her skin felt too warm, too wet .

As she was about to draw her fingers back, Caitlyn was suddenly slammed to the ground, pushed right onto her back, with the wind knocked right out of her lungs.

Vi had moved faster than Caitlyn could process. One second she was taking Vi’s pulse, the very next, she's on her back, vision clouded with black spots as her back hit the ground beneath her.

It was cold, a contrast to the heat radiating off the body above her.

Wait—Vi was on top of her.

Caitlyn gasped, eyes wide as the alpha’s weight pressed down against her own. One of Vi’s hands had both of Caitlyn's wrists pinned above her head in a grip that could bruise, the other clutching tightly onto her waist, nearly digging through the fabric.

Oh fuck, what was happening.

Vi’s body was shaking, her breathing ragged, coming out in short puffs, spilling onto Caitlyn's face.

She was so close now, close enough for Caitlyn to see the sweat coating her flushed skin, and the way her shoulders trembled with every breath.

She tilted her chin up. Vi's mouth was open, the hot puffs of air brushing against her skin. She was able to look, look right up into those piercing eyes, something hidden underneath them.

She has to help, she has to help Vi.

“Vi—” she called, her voice barely more than a whisper, shaken with fear.

The subject snarled. Right into Caitlyn’s face. It was low, having to had come from somewhere deep in her throat, unrecognizable.

Her eyes were wild and bloodshot, looking like the ones in the photo from last night. They were dilated, a ring of purple around her pupils. 

Her lips were parted in a pant, breath hot against Caitlyn’s face. Something in her expression wore off, flickering. It looked like—panic?

She truly seemed lost, as if she didn't know what she was doing.

The testing, the drugs, the file. The stimulant dosages—

Caitlyn’s heart thudded. This wasn't Vi. This wasn't who she really was.

Somehow, even without seeing all of Vi, she would quickly be able to tell you that this wasn't her. Caitlyn could tell she had a good heart, that this was just in the moment.

The testing had to have started affecting her now. She wondered how long Vi had held back for.

Vi hadn't hurt her. It was just the overwhelming pressure of her body against Caitlyn’s, her hot breath tickling her face, trembling muscles locked in place, twitching ever so slightly.

“Vi,” Caitlyn whispered again, she was calmer this time, her fear fading. Her eyes softened, she wasn't fighting back. “It’s okay. I know, just relax okay? I’m here now darling.”

Darling? Where had that come from?

She wouldn't be able to tell you, it just felt right to say in the moment.

Upon hearing the term of affection, something seemed to calm down within her. Though she didn't move, she did relax a bit. Her face was only inches away from Caitlyn’s, gaze flickering to the soft, plush lips.

She squeezed her eyes shut as sweat dripped down from her nose and onto the woman below her. What's gotten into me?

She had to snap out of it. And now.

Her breathing was still uneven, coming out in helpless pants, letting Caitlyn feel the way her whole body was shaking with unease.

Her eyes snapped open.

Just relax. Just relax Vi.

“It’s okay Vi. It’s not your fault.” Her grip on Caitlyn’s wrists loosened, as she allowed for her thoughts to calm down. Slowly, Caitlyn moved one of her hands up to caress the back of Vi’s head, fingers smoothly running down her nape. “You’re not alone. I’m here.”

Something broke in Vi, her expression faltered, twisting into something that wasn’t anger. It was fear. The fear of losing control, like she had just now. It was the last thing she had wanted to happen. 

Hurting someone as soft as Caitlyn. How could she have let this happen?

She blinked rapidly, eyes stinging with unshed tears.

“I—I’m so sorry, I—“ she started, but was interrupted as the fingers that were now suddenly in her hair tightened.

“Shh—It’s okay. There’s no need to apologize.” Vi looked down at those sapphire blues, the ones that seemed to follow her everywhere. She gulped as the woman brought her other hand to touch her face softly. Caitlyn's touch was firm, fingers slightly brushing the heated skin.

Her voice trembled as she spoke. “I saw what they did Vi.”

Her eyes widened more, so much that she was sure they were about to bulge out of her skull.

"Don't worry, just breathe okay? Can you do that for me?" And oh, how could she resist that polite command?

Caitlyn's voice just sounded so nice. Gracing her ears, resonating like a melody.

She moved, not off of Caitlyn, but closer to her.

Here, she couldn’t feel as much pain as she was feeling when she was alone. She didn’t wanna get up. No, not yet.

Her nose brushed along the side of Caitlyn’s face as she panted into her hair, savoring the scent.

Without thinking, Caitlyn started to thread carefully through the matted pink locks that were dampened with sweat. She scratched gently at her scalp, noticing how Vi’s body seemed to ease up at it.

“It’s okay,” Caitlyn murmured, again and again, into her ear, as Vi’s head was pressed to her neck now, with her arms wrapped tightly around Caitlyn. She’d repeat it as many as times needed.

Caitlyn didn’t care that she’d been pushed to the floor, she just wanted to make sure that Vi was okay. How silly of her, right?

With a heart so big, she didn't have it in her to follow through with the orders of her restless mind.

Her fingers worked slowly, drawing lazy circles into her scalp. It was grounding, causing Vi to let out a blissful groan. Leaving the subject unable to stop where the rest of her heat had shot down to.

The feeling of Caitlyn’s fingers buried in her hair, her scent, the proximity—it was getting to her. Shit.

Vi body began to tremble again, but not because of rage. No, it was for different reasons.

Her senses felt too heightened, feeling almost everything around her even stronger. Her body burned with shame, and something even stronger, need. No—want.

Her mouth hung wide open, the strong canines baring instinctively. Nose buried deep into the cobalt strands of hair as she greedily inhaled the other woman’s scent.

Why did she smell so damn good?

Oh and her neck, it looked so inviting. It’s as if it was calling to her, ready to be marked.

She stuck her tongue out, licking at the woman’s neck, eliciting a gasp from Caitlyn.

”Vi—” The woman below her started as she tugged on the red locks.

And holy shit did Vi moan. She should be embarrassed, but she wasn’t. Caitlyn’s skin tasted like fucking heaven. 

So heavenly, she decided to graze her teeth along her skin before biting down.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

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Caitlyn was pacing around the room, nerves all over the place. Her fingers twitched, running through her hair in restless motions.

With every step she took, the room seemed to shrink around her, the walls pressing in closer and tighter.

She felt trapped, her breathing growing irregular.

She needed to get out of here now. And she needed to talk to someone—

Jayce.

Of course. Jayce would know how to help her.

She rushed back to her personal room, too shaken to even think of logging any reports for the day. Her focus was fixed elsewhere. Vi.

Only the gods knew what they could have meant by a stabilization unit.

Caitlyn inhaled sharply, she shouldn’t have let them take Vi away. But what else could she have done? There was no guidance, no support, no one on her side here.

Wait— Jayce.

She spun around, doing her best to collect her scattered mess of thoughts. She scanned the room, then lunged herself over to the nightstand. Her fingers fumbled with the screen until they closed around the whole phone.

She unlocked it, the screen flickering to life as she opened the phone app, scrolling down to Jayce’s contact and hitting the call button.

The shrill rings unsettled her, worry was etched onto her face. Her eyebrows furrowed, teeth nervously nibbling on her bottom lip as she waited.

Pick up, pick up—

“Hello? Cait?” His voice blasted through the speakers so loud that Caitlyn nearly dropped the phone. Instead, she lowered the volume a tad before bringing it back to her ear, resuming her pacing.

“Jayce,” She shushed him, whispering. “They took her— They took Vi—“ Her voice cracked, tears threatening to spill out. “She was scared, Jayce. She didn’t even do anything. And they just—“

“What?” His voice softened instantly, worry evident in his tone. “Cait— I’m so sorry—“

He sounded genuinely shaken. Even concerned.

Caitlyn wiped at her eyes as she sat down.

She sank down into the bed, pressing her palms against her eyes, attempting to force the tears back. Her whole body shook, trembling with the reality of what had happened to Vi.

Vi, who was stripped away from her as if she were a wild animal.

“Cait,” he continued, voice gentle, sounding almost hesitant. “You need to find Viktor.”

She blinked, her eyes stinging as she hissed out her response. “What? I will not!”

“Cait,” Jayce said, his tone less gentle and more sharper now, dropping lower. “You need to find Viktor. Now.”

“What? Jayce, what are you talking about?” she snapped back, her eyes wide. “I’m not—“

“They’re going to come after you next!”

The words stunned her, sending panic running through her whole body. She froze.

Jayce dropped his voice lower, barely above a whisper as he continued. “You need to go, now. They’ve probably already got you flagged.”

“Flagged?” She stood up again, pacing once more, heart pounding hard enough that she could hear it through her chest and in her ears. “Jayce, what the hell is going on? What do you mean flagged?”

“There’s no time to explain! If they take you there’s no knowing what’s next! I can’t lose you— please, find Viktor.”

“Find Viktor—“ Her voice broke, slightly shaky. “Jayce, his area’s most likely locked off I don’t have the right clearance—“

“Caitlyn,” he hissed, voice urgent and low. “You don’t need clearance, you need to have some courage. You need to go, before they realize you’ve been talking to me.” Caitlyn swallowed, fingers clutching the phone tighter.

“I’ll try to see what I can do, but please, listen to me.”

“Okay,” she spoke out softly.

A sigh was heard from the other end, one of relief. “Stay safe, okay?”

Those were the last words she heard from her phone, before the line cut. But she was already on the move.

Caitlyn’s coat was already on, badge card tucked away securely into one of the hidden pockets, along with the usb. Her hands were still trembling but she had an objective: Find Viktor.

She rushed through the corridors, trying her best to move with the others, some giving her suspicious looks.

Caitlyn nearly screamed as a hand clamped down around her wrist. She spun around fast, ready to wrench herself free from the grip, but the voice that followed made her freeze.

“What are you doing here, Miss Kiramman?” He hissed through clenched teeth.

“Viktor?” she whispered, barely believing that she had already found him. But before she was able to get another word out, Viktor was already glancing down both ends of the hallway, then sharply yanking her forward. Far less gently than last time.

“Move,” he muttered grumpily under his breath, dragging her with surprising strength down the corridor, despite his thin frame. She frowned, having no other choice but to oblige.

His limp might’ve slowed them a bit down, but they surely reached the lab faster than she remembered.

After the professor led them to the room and unlocked the door with a few protocols and ushered her in, that’s when she saw the state of the room. It was definitely different than last time.

Papers were scattered across every surface, notes everywhere, even stuck to the walls at odd angles, resembling some sort of— something. Cables and wires were everywhere, hooked up to different screens. The room looked as if he hadn’t left it in days.

When Viktor stepped fully into the light, Caitlyn saw the difference immediately.

His eyes were dark, sunken and framed by bags. His jaw was locked tight, clenched as his eyes bounced around the room before spotting her. He looked paler, more exhausted.

He sighed, bringing his fingers up to rub at his temple.

“Miss Kiramman, in order for this to work, I need you to listen to me very carefully.”