Chapter Text
July 15th
Caitlyn sighed as she turned off her car, now parked in the driveway of her estate. Home at last. Work had been demanding, patrol, case files, raids, reports, command pressure, it’d stolen the day from her. It always did. Noxus didn’t just take hours; it took pieces. It took the small parts of a person that could have been gentle, could have been present, could have been anyone’s wife before they were anyone’s Enforcer. Her hands lingered on the steering wheel a beat too long, fingers still stiff like they were braced for impact. The leather was cool under her palms. The night outside was quiet in the way Noxus nights sometimes pretended to be: still air, too dark streets, the distant rumble of a city that never really slept. She could smell metal and rain on herself, could feel the phantom weight of her badge and sidearm even after she’d unhooked them at the station. Her shoulders ached like they’d been holding up more than a uniform.
But she was home now. She could finally unwind with a bath and a glass of wine. She could pretend, for a few hours, that the world wasn’t forever asking something from her. She gathered her work bag from the passenger seat, heavier than it should’ve been, stuffed with paperwork she’d promised herself she wouldn’t bring home, and stepped out into the cool night. The gravel under her boots shifted softly. The porch light painted the front steps in a warm rectangle that felt almost foreign after the station’s harsh fluorescent.
Caitlyn unlocked the door and slipped inside, then turned back and double checked the lock the way she always did. One click. Two. Hand on the knob. A habit drilled into her by training, by paranoia, by too many nights where safety had depended on being careful. The house greeted her with silence and the faint scent of lavender cleaner, something Maddie liked because it made everything smell “fresh,” even when the air between them had been anything but.
She paused in the entryway, listening. No television. No voices. No footsteps downstairs. Just the soft hum of the house settling and the quiet tick of a hallway clock. Cassie is asleep, Caitlyn thought, and her chest loosened a fraction at the certainty of it. She made her way upstairs quietly, letting her boots land softer than they wanted to. Halfway down the hall she passed her daughter’s door and peeked her head in through the crack.
Cassie had fallen asleep at her desk, chin tucked toward her chest, one hand still curled around the corner of a book like she’d tried to keep reading until her body shut her down. The lamplight cast a warm glow over her, turning the dark, almost purple blue of her hair into something like ink. Papers were spread out in careful stacks. A pencil lay across an open page. Cassie’s schoolbag sat on the floor, zipped properly, the way she always did it. Even asleep, Cassie looked composed like she’d been born practicing how to take up as little space as possible. She was no doubt Caitlyn’s daughter. Caitlyn’s throat tightened with something too tender and too sharp. She stepped in quietly and crossed to the desk.
Cassie didn’t stir until Caitlyn’s hands slid under her arms, lifting her carefully. Cassie made a tiny sound, half protest, half question. Her eyelids fluttered. She was warm and light in Caitlyn’s arms, the way children always were until you realized one day they weren’t anymore. Caitlyn carried her to the bed and settled her onto the mattress, then tugged the covers up around her small shoulders. Only then did Cassie blink awake enough to find her mother’s face. “You fell asleep at your desk, lovey,” Caitlyn whispered, brushing hair back behind her daughter’s ear. Cassie mumbled something about a book, something about a chapter ending, something about just one more page. The words slurred together like she was already sinking back under. Caitlyn smiled despite herself. “Of course,” she murmured. She pressed a kiss to Cassie’s forehead. “Good night, darling.” “Night night, Mommy,” Cassie breathed, and the word Mommy felt like it landed straight into Caitlyn’s chest. Cassie’s eyes fluttered closed again almost immediately, her face smoothing into sleep like she’d never woken at all.
Caitlyn stood there for a long moment, watching her breathe, watching the rise and fall of her chest, memorizing the curve of her cheek. Cassie had gotten so big already. The years had flown by. She was tall now, smart and sassy, but a sweetheart nonetheless. A child who could take her own shoes off and line them up in a neat row by the door. A child who asked questions Caitlyn sometimes didn’t know how to answer. A child who had learned, quietly, not to demand too much. Caitlyn had promised herself Cassie would never have to be careful like that. Never have to be small.
She and Maddie were doing a great job, Caitlyn told herself automatically, and the words sounded like something she’d once believed without needing to convince herself.
Caitlyn eased the door shut to the same crack it had been and stepped back into the hallway.
As she moved further toward their bedroom, she heard the shower running. The sound of water against tile. The muffled thud of a bottle being set down. A normal sound in a normal home, something domestic and warm. Perfect! she thought. She’d hop in the shower with her wife, then have wine in bed and unwind, a perfect night after a long day at the station. Something easy. Something that could be theirs again, if only for an hour. Caitlyn’s steps quickened slightly, hope and habit pulling her forward. She set her work bag on the side of the bed, then went to the bathroom door and reached for the handle. Locked. Caitlyn blinked at it, hand still on the knob. Maybe Maddie wanted privacy tonight. Maybe Maddie was shaving her legs and didn’t want an audience. Maybe Maddie just wanted five minutes alone. That shouldn’t have bothered Caitlyn. It didn’t, not on the surface. She swallowed down the small sting anyway.
“Alright,” she muttered to herself, more resigned than annoyed. She decided to change into her robe and slippers while she waited. She moved on autopilot, unfastening the collar of her uniform, tugging it off, folding it neatly the way she always did. One clean rectangle. Another. Everything in its place. Control was a kind of comfort. She set the folded uniform into her dresser and exhaled, rolling her shoulders as if she could shrug off the day with the fabric.
Just then she heard the click of the bathroom lock turning. The door opened a moment later, and Maddie stepped out wrapped in a towel, hair damp and slicked back, skin flushed from the hot water. Caitlyn turned with a half smile already forming.
“I was thinking tonight we could-” she began.
She stopped.
Maddie’s bare skin was marked. Dark bruises blossomed across her chest and collarbone, mottled and unmistakable. Hickeys, ones certainly not left by her, but hickeys nonetheless. Not one, either. Enough to tell a story. Enough to make it clear this hadn’t been a careless accident; it had been something someone had wanted to leave behind. A signature. Caitlyn’s mouth stayed open. The rest of the sentence died in her throat.
For a second, her brain tried to be stupid. Tried to offer alternatives like a desperate child: maybe it was an injury, maybe it was training, maybe it was, but Caitlyn was an Enforcer. Caitlyn knew bruises. She knew the difference between impact and intention. Her body went still in a way she couldn’t have prevented if she’d tried. Even her breathing felt too loud. Maddie noticed Caitlyn’s silence, her gaze following Caitlyn’s eyes. Maddie’s hand went to her own throat reflexively, fingers brushing over the bruises as if she could wipe them away. She froze too.
Caitlyn didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t slam anything. She didn’t even step forward.
“How long?” Caitlyn asked.
Her voice was low. Serious. Almost calm, like she was asking about a case file.
The two words lingered in the air for what felt like hours.
“Cait,” Maddie started, and her tone was a warning, not a comfort.
Caitlyn didn’t blink. “How. Long.” she asked again, sharper this time, her eyes never leaving Maddie’s.
Maddie’s mouth tightened. Then, somehow, she rolled her eyes, as if Caitlyn’s question was inconvenient rather than devastating.
“Almost a year, maybe. I don’t know,” Maddie said. “To be fair-”
Caitlyn’s chest constricted so hard she thought, absurdly, that she might be having a heart attack. Almost a year. Almost a year of coming home late and smelling someone else’s perfume on Maddie’s sheets. Almost a year of missed glances, of that distance Caitlyn had blamed on stress. Almost a year of Maddie letting Caitlyn kiss her with someone else’s mouth bruising her skin. Caitlyn turned away slowly, because she didn’t trust her face not to break. She crossed to the dresser and touched the edge of her folded uniform like it was an anchor. “I’m not doing this with you tonight,” Caitlyn said, and the hurt in her voice was subtle, controlled, but the truth of it made her throat burn.
“Why not?” Maddie asked, and Caitlyn recognized the tone immediately. The tone Maddie used when she wanted an argument, when she wanted Caitlyn to react, when she wanted proof Caitlyn could still feel something. “Because, Maddie,” Caitlyn said with an exhausted sigh, like she’d been carrying those words for months. She turned just enough to look over her shoulder. “You certainly are no longer my wife, so what more is there to talk about?”
She didn’t have it in her to argue. She didn’t have it in her to beg. She didn’t have it in her to do anything but try to keep the walls up long enough to get through the night. But she knew there was little choice. Maddie had always been good at finding the cracks.
“You’re never home,” Maddie said.
Caitlyn blinked. “What?”
“I did it because you’re never fucking home, Cait,” Maddie said, and her voice rose a notch. Not shouting yet, but heading there. “Would you quit it?” Caitlyn snapped, sharper than she meant to, then immediately lowered her voice again. “Maddie.”
“Why?” Maddie demanded, irritation sharp and bright. “Because you don’t want to hear the truth? Caitlyn, you work these long shifts then come home and keep working! Where’s time for me, time for Cassie, she hardly sees you, time for anything but that dumb fucking badge!” Maddie’s voice climbed as she spoke, frustration feeding itself. Her towel shifted dangerously as she gestured. Her face was flushed now from more than steam.
Caitlyn’s stomach dropped at the volume. “Maddie, hush,” she said, forcing her voice down. “You’ll wake Cassie.”
There it was, Cassie’s name, like a hand pressed against Maddie’s mouth.
Caitlyn turned and headed toward the bathroom, more to put distance between herself and Maddie’s anger than because she actually needed to get ready for bed. Her hands moved automatically: she reached for her toothbrush, for the soap, for the tiny routines that made a person feel like they hadn’t just watched their life fracture. Behind her, Maddie laughed quietly. It wasn’t amused. It was cruel. “See?” Maddie said. “You don’t even care.”
That struck a nerve.
Caitlyn’s hands paused over the sink. Her reflection stared back at her, hair pulled back too tight, eyes too tired, face controlled into neutrality like she could police herself into being okay. Her jaw clenched. She turned back toward Maddie.
“Maddie, I do care,” Caitlyn said, and her voice shook just once before she forced it steady again. “I care a whole fucking lot.” Maddie scoffed. “Sure. When it’s convenient.”
“Don’t,” Caitlyn snapped, then caught herself immediately and dropped her voice again. She pointed down the hall without looking. “Cassie is right there.”
“You keep saying her name like it fixes anything,” Maddie hissed back, lowering her own voice but only because she had to. Her eyes were sharp in the dim hallway light. “Like she’s a shield you can hide behind so you don’t have to talk about us.”
Caitlyn’s breath came shallow. “Me being busy doesn’t give you a free pass to be someone else’s wife,” she said, each word clipped like it was cut from steel. “I love you. I have for over a decade. I’ve been loyal to you through thick and thin.”
“Loyal?” Maddie laughed under her breath, disbelief twisted into something ugly. “You’re married to that badge.”
“And I work those shifts to give Cassie the things she deserves,” Caitlyn shot back. “Our daughter is brilliant. She’s the best thing to happen to us and you fucking know it.”
Maddie’s eyes flashed. “She barely sees you.”
The words were quiet, but they hit like a baton to the ribs. That struck harder than the hickeys ever could. Caitlyn took a step forward before she could stop herself. “Don’t you dare,” she said, voice low and lethal. “Don’t sit here and tell me I’m never here for her. I do everything in my power to make sure I fucking am.”
Maddie’s mouth opened, then closed. For a second, something like guilt flickered over her face, fast, almost invisible. Then she hardened again, leaning into her own anger like it was safer than shame. “Then why was I the one putting her to bed?” Maddie whispered, vicious. “Why was I the one-”
“Remember when you missed her birthday party?” Caitlyn cut in, and the words came out sharper than she expected. “The times you forgot to pick her up from school?”
Maddie’s eyes widened, as if she hadn’t expected Caitlyn to fight dirty. “Cait…”
“When you missed her shooting tournament where she won fucking gold?” Caitlyn kept going, because if she stopped she would fall apart. “And don’t even get me started on our anniversary.”
Maddie’s jaw tightened. “That’s not the same.”
“Where were you then?” Caitlyn asked, voice low. “Because I was there. I was the one telling her Mom’s busy with work.” Caitlyn’s eyes didn’t leave Maddie’s. “But that wasn’t true, was it?”
Maddie’s throat bobbed as she swallowed. Her hands clenched the towel. She didn’t answer. The house around them felt too quiet, like it was listening. A floorboard somewhere down the hall creaked softly. Both of them froze. Caitlyn’s heartbeat slammed against her ribs. Maddie’s eyes flicked toward Cassie’s door with something close to fear. The silence stretched, thick and dangerous. Caitlyn held her breath and listened for a second sound, a sleepy voice, a footstep, anything.Nothing. The night remained still. Caitlyn exhaled slowly, like she was lowering something fragile back onto a shelf. Maddie’s shoulders dropped a fraction. They looked at each other again, and for a beat there was no anger, only the shared knowledge that their daughter existed right there, sleeping, trusting them.
Then the anger crawled back in.
“It’s like,” Caitlyn said, and the hurt finally broke through the rage, cracking her voice, “I don’t even know who you are anymore. Because you sure as hell aren’t the woman I married.”
Maddie’s mouth opened, and closed. She wanted to say something but couldn’t find it. Her eyes glistened. Whether from the heat of the shower or something else, Caitlyn didn’t know and didn’t care. They were quiet for a long while. Then for a few minutes more. Anger, sadness, and hurt all settling in the spaces between them like dust. “So what now?” Maddie asked finally, her voice smaller than before.
“I’m done,” Caitlyn said, calmer now. Not because she felt calm, but because something inside her had gone numb. “What do you mean you’re done?” Maddie said angrily, and the anger sounded almost panicked. Caitlyn swallowed. “I want a divorce,” she said simply, and she watched Maddie’s face go white. “You’re ripping our family apart?” Maddie demanded, crossing her arms like she could hold herself together by force. “No,” Caitlyn said, and the word came out like a verdict. “I’m leaving with my daughter because I don’t need her being around this.” Maddie’s eyes narrowed. “This?”
Caitlyn’s jaw clenched. Her voice stayed low. “Those hookers you’re fucking,” she spat, and the cruelty of it tasted bitter even as it left her mouth. It was official,cold, simple.
Divorce.
Maddie stared at her for a second like she couldn’t decide whether to scream or cry. Her hands trembled against the towel. Then her expression snapped into something sharp and brittle. “Fine,” Maddie said, and there was too much brightness in it. “Fine. If that’s what you want.”Caitlyn didn’t answer. She couldn’t trust herself to. “I’m leaving,” Maddie said, and the words were both threat and surrender. She stormed into the bedroom, yanking open drawers, grabbing handfuls of clothing, throwing them into a bag with frantic, careless movements that felt almost performative. The zipper caught; she cursed under her breath. A hanger clattered to the floor. The noise made Caitlyn flinch again, automatically, eyes darting toward Cassie’s door.
“Keep it down,” Caitlyn hissed.
Maddie threw her a look full of venom. “Oh, now you care about noise.”
Caitlyn’s hands curled at her sides. She didn’t pry. She didn’t argue. She just stood there, rooted, watching the woman she’d married unravel their life in angry handfuls. Maddie shoved toiletries into the bag, still damp from the bathroom. She grabbed her boots, her coat. She moved like someone running from a fire. Caitlyn didn’t stop her. Maybe, deep down, Caitlyn knew stopping her would only turn this into something even uglier. Maybe she knew the fight would just restart, looping endlessly until Cassie actually did wake. Maddie slung the bag over her shoulder and marched down the stairs. Caitlyn followed at a distance, silent, her feet heavy on the steps. The house felt colder the closer they got to the front door, like warmth lived upstairs near Cassie’s sleeping body and nowhere else. At the door, Maddie hesitated with her hand on the knob. Just for a fraction of a second, her shoulders sagged, as if she’d remembered, suddenly, that leaving meant leaving more than a room. Then she straightened again, pride snapping back into place like armor.
She yanked the door open and stepped out into the night.
The door slammed behind her.
The sound reverberated through the entryway, through the walls, up the staircase.
Caitlyn stood perfectly still, listening. One beat. Two. Cassie didn’t cry out. No footsteps. No sleepy call for Mommy. The house absorbed the slam the way it absorbed everything else…quietly, dutifully, as if it had been trained. Caitlyn closed her eyes, just for a moment, and let the silence settle. Then she turned and went upstairs, toward the only door that mattered.
when she finally got to Cassies room she saw her daughter fast asleep, or so she thought.
Caitlyn had sat on her side of the bed in her room for nearly 20 minutes just think, what had happened? where did she go wrong? was she really so neglectful that she was unlovable? she was quickly snapped out of her thoughts by the voice in the doorway, Cassie. "Mommy?" Cassie said stepping into the room. Caitlyn had felt the guilt wash over her in that moment, had their daughter heard it all. "im sorry baby, did mom and i wake you?" Caitlyn asked. the two had argued before, of course they did they were a married couple, but it normally blew over by the next morning, things weren't normally slammed. "hmm" Cassie said rubbing her eyes, she cradled her doberman plushie in one arm her hair messy from sleep.
Caitlyn didnt really know how to go about this, how did she explain her 8 year old that she and Maddie wouldn't live together anymore. instead she let it go, just for tonight, and get her priorites straight, her responsibility, her baby. Cassie.
She scooted back onto the bed and patted the side next to her. "come here baby" Caitlyn said softly. Cassie sat and curled up against her mother. it was quiet for a moment or two before Cassie spoke. "are you sad?" Cassie asked, which threw caitlyn off. "i suppose a little my love, but I'll be alright" caitlyn half lied. Cassie held the plushie up for a mom to see. "when im sad mommy, i talk to wolf, and it makes me feel better" Cassie said. "oh thank you darling ill consider" Caitlyn said stroking her daughters hair. "you need to rest okay?" Caitlyn said.
Another few moments of silence before Cassie spoke again. "i think you make a lot of time for me" Cassie mumbled. shit Caitlyn thought, Cassie must have heard it all. "thank you baby" she said quietly