legacy ➵ viktor

legacy

hello hello !! i present a lil angsty fic of my beloved viktor

viktor x gender neutral!reader

word count: 2.5k

content warnings: death, needles, blood

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tick.

tock.

tick.

tock.

the obnoxious rhythm of the clock suspended on the wall timed your nervous pacing perfectly, like a metronome. how long had you been waiting? hours? days? years? it was impossible to tell.

you gazed pitifully at the barely conscious genius lying on the only bed in the entire academy's infirmary- a cot, likely designed for a child. it took two doctors, a nurse, and some heavily diluted shimmer to help viktor into a comfortable position. his long legs were tucked into his chest, his arms folded over each other.

as his lab assistant, this wasn't your first experience with viktor's fainting spells. but this was the first time he had ever brought up blood. with every rattly cough, blood spattered all over his books and papers. you found him unconscious, slumped over his desk, a tiny stream of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

but with every time he fainted, he recovered quickly. the machinist could easily bounce back within a few hours. so, given the current circumstances, you were naturally worried about him.

a sudden, loud click of a door mechanism interrupted your invasive anxiety. in a time where you were in your right mind, you could have easily explained what caused the latch to make that sound, down to every last detail.

but as of right now, it was just a noise. an ominous noise, for no reason.

an unfamiliar woman entered the room carrying a clipboard. was she really unfamiliar? it was hard to tell. maybe you'd passed by her every day, or maybe it really was your first time seeing her.

she drew a pen from her lab coat and jotted down a few notes, glancing at viktor every so often.

it appeared that she didn't notice you until the smallest cough forced its way from your throat. the doctor appeared startled at first, but her face soon relaxed into one of sympathy. sparing one last look at viktor, she pulled you aside into the hallway outside the infirmary.

the hallway smelled like death, viktor had once said. at first, you didn't exactly understand what he had meant. you'd always associated the so-called "smell of death" with rotting, decaying flesh. but it was at this exact moment that it finally sank in. this hallway smelled clean; a disgusting sort of clean, as if the janitors were covering something up. it was too clean. they're covering up death with disinfectant.

the doctor's shoes made the same horrifying ticking sound as the clock in the infirmary. it was an unsettling rhythm, matching your heart rate by half-time. she paused when you were far out of earshot from viktor's room, and referred back to her clipboard.

"two weeks, tops."

three small words of unimaginable power.

the entire world paused. for that one eternal moment, nothing else should have been happening. nothing else mattered. no war, no dispute. no celebrations, no congratulations. nothing.

words could not describe the gut-wrenching emptiness you felt. you had so much hope that you could find a cure for him. that there would come a day where you could run with him hand in hand across the hexgates.