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English
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Part 1 of the wonder of little changes
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2024-12-02
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1,273
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1/1
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One time the four seconds was enough

Summary:

What if Ekko appeared from the other dimension a little earlier and in a different place?
What if he was nearly caught in the explosion, so he had to fix it?
What if by doing that, he saved Jinx from being broken again?
What if Ekko saved the day and gave Jinx and Isha the ending they deserved?

In other words - canon divergence of episode six, season two.

Work Text:

One second, Ekko saw the face of the other Powder looking at him, confused—her soft blue eyes filled with fear, not understanding what’s happening. So different from the girl he knows in his own dimension. In the next, he saw Jinx’s face. His Jinx. Contorted with something raw and terrifying. Grief. Desperation. Rage.

 

It didn’t seem real. He’d just come from the other dimension, a world where everything felt... right. A Powder who smiled easily. An Ekko who hadn’t been weighed down by war, didn’t have to be a strong leader for his people. A world where they were together—him and Powder, and everyone else. It had been perfect. Unreal in its perfection, maybe, but it lingered in his mind like a bittersweet dream.

 

And now he was here. Back in the wreckage of his own reality.

 

Jinx’s scream ripped through the air, wrenching him back. It wasn’t like anything he’d heard from her before—not the maniacal laughter she threw out in battle, not the taunting jeers. It was pure anguish, a sound that made his chest tighten. His eyes snapped to her, and-

 

Boom.

 

He didn’t think, couldn’t know what was happening but he only knew to-

 

Rewind.

 

He gasped as the timeline reset, his body trembling from the phantom pain of the blast. His heart hammered against his ribs, and his mind raced.

 

Quickly, his head snapped to Jinx’s silhouette, her face was wild, frozen in shock and terror. She was looking at… He followed her line of sight, his breath catching.

 

The kid.

 

Ekko barely caught sight of the child before—

 

Boom.

 

The explosion swallowed everything, tearing through the air with brutal force. Ekko was slammed backward, his body folding against the impact. Through the pain and the chaos, his fingers found the Z-Drive, his thumb slamming the button just as the heat consumed him.

 

Rewind.

 

Ekko stumbled into the moment again, chest heaving. The timeline snapped into place, and now he knew—he only had seconds.

 

Move. Don’t think. Just move.

 

But he couldn’t.

 

That kid, a tiny figure, standing far too close to the beast. Calm, eerily calm. She held the weapon steady, her eyes locked onto Jinx, and her lips curved into a soft smile as if saying goodbye.

 

Ekko’s blood turned cold. The kid wasn’t just close to the explosion—she was going to cause it.

 

Her face and that expression—it hit him like a punch to the gut.

 

It reminded him of Jinx.

 

Of Jinx on that damned bridge. 

 

That moment when she smiled at him, defeated but serene, as if accepting her own death was the only way to let him win. That smile had haunted him ever since, a scar burned into his memory. He hadn’t been able to save her then. She’d lived, somehow, but it wasn’t because of him. He left her there, didn’t help her and-

 

And now. Now, this kid’s face echoed that same, haunting expression.

 

The ache in his chest doubled, clawing at him. He pushed harder, faster, his lungs burning as he closed the gap. Not again. Never again.

 

Boom.

 

The explosion hit, and Ekko barely managed to slam the Z-Drive in time.

 

Rewind.

 

This time, he was running before he could think. He didn’t know the kid, didn’t know why she was doing it, how she knew Jinx or why she seemed so at peace with dying. But he knew he couldn’t let her.

 

His feet pounded against the ground as he weaved through the chaos. The beast roared above, its shadow looming over the kid. Her weapon gleamed in the harsh light, pointed straight at the monster’s head. Her hands were steady, her expression unnervingly peaceful.

 

He reached her just as she steadied her aim. His arms shot out, grabbing her around the waist and yanking her away from the beast. The weapon fell from her hands, clattering to the ground as Ekko pulled her close.

 

Somehow, the beast didn’t kill them, didn’t even touch them. If Ekko had more time, he would think this weird and unnerving, but alas he didn’t have time.

 

Never enough of it. Time was precious and he never had enough.

 

They hit the ground hard, rolling through the dirt and debris. The kid squirmed in his grasp, her face twisting in anger and confusion. Ekko caught all confusing emotions in her eyes, the determination to break away from him and finish what she wanted to do earlier. Her hands pushed against his chest, small but insistent.

 

But then Jinx was there.

 

She didn’t just run to them; she slammed into him with her full weight, her arms wrapping around the kid - and because of him holding the kid - around him too. For a short moment. Ekko stumbled at the impact, almost losing his grip as Jinx clung to the child, as if making sure she was still there, alive and breathing.

 

The moment Jinx took hold of the little one, the kid’s anger dissolved. Her face softened, in guilt, her wide eyes filling with tears. And then she sobbed—ugly, wrenching cries that shook her small frame as she buried her face in Jinx’s chest.

 

Ekko froze, watching as the kid clung to Jinx like she was her anchor in the chaos. 

 

This kid loved Jinx.

 

His old friend wasn’t just protecting her; she was holding onto her for comfort, for her won and the kid’s, for safety of them both. 

 

Jinx. His Jinx, who he’d thought could only hurt and destroy and wasn’t capable of helping anyone, was this child’s sanctuary.

 

It didn’t make sense. It shouldn’t have been possible. Jinx wasn’t like that. Never. If anything, she behaved more like…

 

Powder.

 

But she died, he was so sure of that. The fact that Powder was lost, that she wasn’t there anymore.

 

And yet, as he watched Jinx cradle the kid, murmuring soft, incoherent reassurances, it felt... similar. Right.

 

Something stirred in him, a realization that crept in slowly. She wasn’t Jinx. Or Powder. She was both, a mix of the girl he’d grown up with and the woman the world had shaped her into. And despite everything, she still loved and cared so fiercely.

 

And despite everything, he never stopped caring about her. 

 

He’d buried it, sure, suppressed it because he’d had to. As a leader, he couldn’t held any affection to his former friend. But it was still there.

 

His lips twitched in a faint, bitter smile.

 

Jinx’s strength finally failed her as she collapsed to her knees, the kid still held tightly in her arms. Her body trembled with silent sobs, her forehead pressed against the top of the kid’s head.

 

Ekko opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Vi’s voice cut through the moment.

 

“Move!”

 

Before he could react, Vi grabbed his arm, hauling him to his feet. Jinx stumbled after them, the kid still clutched tightly to her chest.

 

The explosion hit seconds later.

 

The shockwave slammed into them, sending them all sprawling to the ground. Ekko didn’t think—he moved on instinct, throwing himself over Jinx and the kid. His body shielded them as the debris rained down, heat and pressure threatening to crush him.

 

Jinx wriggled beneath him, yelling something, something he couldn’t make out. His head felt too heavy.

 

His limbs growing heavier with each passing second. And then there was black.

 

The last thing he remembered was Jinx’s voice, trembling and soft, and the faint, fleeting thought that they could renew their broken relationship. And it made him faint with a small smile, his mind making scenarios of their - future together and happy.

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