Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Act I, Part I: Don’t Let Me Go

Ekko’s there when Vi and the others get back from their heist in Piltover. He’s eager to see what they’ve gotten, so he finished his work at Benzo’s shop early and hurried to The Last Drop to wait for them. 

The other four kids turn up in the basement and Ekko’s smile falters. They’re bruised, beaten, and tired. 

“Uh…are you guys ok?”

“We’re in one piece,” Claggor grunts as the door closes behind him.

Vi slumps into her chair with a groan. “Vander learns none of this.”

“No worries there. Powder took care of the evidence,” Mylo’s words are a barbed accusation.

“I tried, okay?” Powder protests. “You don’t get it. You’re older, you’re bigger. It–it isn’t fair!”

“So stick with us! Take a punch or two!”

The door opens and Vander’s there before Ekko can even ask what went wrong. Every one of the kids cringes. 

“Everyone all right?” 

“Never better,” Mylo sighs.

“Good,” Vander saunters down the steps and clasps his hands behind his back. Uh-oh.

“I don’t suppose you can explain why it is that I’m hearing about an explosion and a foot chase Topside? Four children fleeing the scene.”

He stops and side-eyes Vi, always the de-facto leader of their little gang. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“That we can handle a real job,” Vi answers with more bravado than Ekko can muster in the face of the Hound. 

She and Vander get into it and eventually he asks the inevitable question. “Where did you even get your tip?”

Ekko winces as Vander looks from one face to another. Without a sound, he slowly lifts his hand.

Vander sighs. “Explain.”

“Th–the guy just came to Benzo’s shop the other day and bought a whole bunch of stuff he only keeps for display,” Ekko admits, keeping his eyes low. “He paid in real gold and didn’t even haggle! I charged him double, he was such a sucker.”

“And let me guess, you followed him home,” Vander finishes. He knows the game. He’s played it countless times, after all.

Ekko nods sheepishly. “I didn’t think…”

“No, this is not your fault,” Vi scowls as she stands and regains Vander’s attention. “We had no idea there were explosives in that guy’s place! If you wanna be mad, be mad at me!”

They get into it again and eventually Vander kicks the other kids out so he can talk with Vi privately. Ekko sticks with Powder as Mylo and Claggor linger in the hall by the door. 

“So what happened? There were explosives?”

“I don’t know what they were,” Powder mumbles as she leads him out the back door. “I don’t even know what happened, exactly. We heard people in the hallway and started to leave. Then the building just–blew up!”

Ekko frowns. “How?”

“I don’t know!” She throws her hands in the air. 

That’s the only explanation she offers. Ekko has to wonder if the blast was even their fault to begin with. “What Mylo said…”

She scowls, climbs up onto a pipe where she sometimes hides things and pulls out two pieces of metal scrap. “Someone was following us. We got jumped on the way back. I…I lost all the stuff. My grenades didn’t work. Again.”

Ekko’s frown deepens. “Someone…wait, on our side?”

“Some thugs,” she mutters. “I tossed the stuff into the river so they couldn’t get any of it.”

“That’s not so bad. No one can trace it back to you.”

“But I lost it! It was my fault,” Powder crosses her arms. 

They hear noises–Vander’s voice–from inside the bar getting closer to the door and freeze. Powder glances around before pointing at the pipe. “Get in!”

Ekko dives inside. It’s a tiny space, but enough to hide him. 

He hears the door open and those familiar, heavy footsteps. “Powder.”

“Yeah?”

“Where’s Ekko?”

“Uh, he went back to Benzo’s. We didn’t bring back the haul, so…”

“Good. Finish up out here and get inside. You all need to clean up. Claggor, with me. Give me the details of exactly what happened up there…”

Ekko waits for a while and slowly peeks out as Vander and Claggor’s silhouettes vanish into the smog. He and Powder both let out a sigh. She puts the pieces of scrap into her pocket and suddenly frowns. 

Powder fidgets, digging for something, and pulls out–

It’s a blue stone. Small, fits easily in the palm of her hand. Sort of like a marble, but— 

“Whoa,” Ekko breathes. He’s never seen a rock quite like it; there’s something about the glow it gives off, like energy.

“I gotta show Vi,” Powder gasps. She darts back inside and Ekko follows. 

The door to the basement is cracked open. He can hear Mylo bouncing a ball off the wall like he does when he’s bored. 

“She’s a problem,” Mylo says. Powder stops in her tracks and Ekko too, just behind her.

“Mylo,” Vi sighs. “I’m really not–”

“Do you remember what was in that bag? The biggest payout we’ve ever seen and she just lost it.”

“She made a mistake.”

“Name one time she hasn’t!”

Powder cringes from the door. Ekko can see the hurt on her face as she half-turns away and it makes him mad. 

“She’s young!”

“Don’t bullshit me. You were twice the person at half her age.”

Vi’s got a hand over her head when she suddenly looks up at the boy. “You know what Mylo? You’re right.”

Powder freezes and Ekko feels his jaw drop. There’s no way she just–

“There’s a bunch of things Powder just can’t do.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

She turns to run and Ekko feels his rare temper finally snap. He slips past her and yanks the door open enough to step inside the basement. 

“Seriously, you too?” 

Vi and Mylo look up to see him scowling. Mylo rolls his eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed? You spying has already worked out real well for us today.”

“You’re taking his side?” Ekko ignores Mylo completely as he goes after Vi.

“That’s not–”

“Why wouldn’t she? It’s the truth,” Mylo drawls. “Powder’s dead weight.”

“And you’re a shitty brother!”

Mylo catches the ball and jerks his eyes towards him. “Hey, watch who you’re–”

“No, all you do is complain about her! You give her so much shit, but what are you even good for? Vi’s got you beat at everything except for bitching!”

Mylo rolls off his side and sits upright, brows slanting and fists clenching. “You’re only mad because you’re crushing on her, Little Man. Do yourself a favor and crush on someone who’s actually good for something.”

“Ok, that’s enough,” Vi snaps. “Ekko–”

“When was the last time you actually said something nice to her? She tries so hard and you never–”

“Never what? Tell her she’s doing a good job when she screws up? Which is all the time? The only thing she’s good for is making junk. You at least can fix stuff,” Mylo sneers.

“You couldn’t invent something if you tried. You can’t even pick a lock right!”

“Enough!” Vi growls. Mylo and Ekko are still glaring at each other. “Ekko, I’ll handle this, ok? Let me worry about Powder.”

“You just took his side!”

“Because I’m right–”

“Can it!” Vi snarls at Mylo, who wisely shuts up. Ekko’s still pissed. 

They can’t see it. Powder’s so smart, she tries and tries and never gives up on her inventions even though she gets frustrated with them. Ekko remembers every time he’s seen her working, the way she gets so hyperfocused on what she’s doing and how she can make something out of basically nothing.

“Why do I even hang out with you?” Ekko asks as he fires one last shot at Mylo. “You’re such a dick.”

He spins on his heel and leaves, ignoring Vi’s call after him, and slams the door shut as hard as he can. Granted, that’s not much. He’s just a kid. But he tries.

Powder is nowhere in sight, but Vi is in the hall behind him before he gets to the back door. “Ekko, wait up.”

“I’m not apologizing to him. Or you.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

Ekko scowls and twists around. “So what do you want?”

Vi lifts an eyebrow. He feels like cringing beneath that stare, but Ekko somehow keeps his nerve. He’s never been good at defending himself, but he’s pretty good at getting mad for other people.

“I don’t know if you’ve ever stood up to me,” Vi says, bemused. Her mouth curls up into a grin. “I didn’t think you even knew how to yell at someone, Little Man.”

“He was being an asshole.”

She laughs. “Yeah, he really was. Mylo’s just sulking.”

“It’s not just that, I’m serious! When was the last time he was even nice to Powder?”

Vi’s smile slips a bit at that. Granted, Ekko isn’t around all the time, (he has a job and a home of his own with Benzo, after all) but he’s got a good memory and Mylo’s never been good with Powder. Everyone else, sure. But never with her. 

From how Vi doesn’t answer, he knows he’s not wrong.

She tilts her head, trying to catch his eye when he looks away. “I’m grateful you’re standing up for her, Ekko. Really. Powder’s still figuring things out and you’re right, Mylo went too far.”

“So why did you–”

“I was about to tell him off when you barged in,” she says, and there’s a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. Ekko tries to hide the way he flushes. 

“...Oh.”

Vi snorts, lifts a hand to ruffle his hair. Ekko scowls, trying to stay mad, and ducks away. “I gotta see that temper more often, even if you’re still a bit too short to be intimidating. You looked like an angry Poro.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles. 

“But seriously, I know today wasn’t just Powder’s fault. She messed up, but so did Mylo. He got all mouthy about our haul and those thugs heard everything. I haven’t chewed him out for it yet, but I’m about to get on that.”

“She heard you guys talking,” Ekko tells her. 

“And I’m guessing she stopped listening around the time you got pissed off,” Vi sighs. She sets a hand on his shoulder. “I’d better find her first, then. Go back to Benzo’s for tonight.”

“But–”

“I’ve gotta do big sister stuff, Ekko,” she says. Vi elbows him playfully. “‘Kay, lover boy? Let me do my part now.”

This time Ekko can’t hide how much he flushes. He just fumbles for the door handle as Vi wishes him a goodnight. 

Of course, the night doesn’t end there. He sneaks to Benzo’s just in time to see the Enforcers go into the building. Ekko eavesdrops and gets the gist of it. 

Vander’s got a deal with Topside. 

And that failed heist snowballs beyond anything Ekko could have imagined. 

It’s something straight out of one of her nightmares. Vi’s seen death, isn’t a stranger to it, but this sort of carnage is something she’s managed to avoid since the bridge. 

Since mom and dad. 

Ekko has tailed the people responsible for the murders of Benzo and Piltover’s Sheriff, found that they’re at the old cannery next to the docks. Vi’s about to tell him to hide in Benzo’s shop until she can come get him when she gets a glimpse of the bloodshed beyond the door and falters. 

Benzo’s been torn apart. The Sheriff’s back is ripped almost through her torso. Three more Enforcers have been slaughtered. Vi has to look away, covers Ekko’s eyes even though it’s too late to hide him from it. The boy is trembling in her arms, trying to stifle his sobs. 

She swallows, tastes bile in her mouth. Thinks again. 

“I can’t leave you here,” she realizes. “They might come back. Someone is going to come for the bodies. Th-the Enforcers…”

Plan. She needs a plan. They have to save Vander. She can get his old gauntlets at the bar, where Mylo and Claggor and–

“Powder,” she thinks aloud. She tightens her grip on Ekko. “C’mon, we have to hurry.”

She rushes him away to the bar. 

They get to the basement, both of them still shell-shocked. Powder throws herself at Vi, relieved to have her sister back, but she quickly realizes something is very wrong. 

Ekko holds Vi’s hand, still shaking. 

“Vi?” Claggor asks.

“Benzo’s dead,” she forces out, stunning them. “And–and four Enforcers. Someone–some gang, they killed them. Took Vander. I need to help him.”

“We’re going with you,” Mylo says immediately.

Vi tries to fight tears again and fails. “Whatever killed Benzo was like nothing I’ve ever seen. It tore him apart.” 

Ekko whimpers as Vi lets him go and stumbles to the table where their weapons lie. Powder hesitantly approaches him and pulls him to her box of gadgets. She starts rifling through it, trying to find something that could help them fight…

Mylo and Claggor keep talking to Vi, asking questions as the older kids hatch a plan. 

The three of them grab some gear and then Vi approaches Powder and the still-shaking figure of Ekko. 

Vi swallows. “I need you to sit this one out, Powder.”

“What?”

“You’re not coming.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“This is too dangerous.”

“But families stick together! You said it yourself!”

“I know what I said–”

“I want to fight! I can help–”

“You’re not ready!”

Powder freezes, stares at her with wide, hurt eyes. 

Vi takes a breath, lower lip trembling. “I’m not ready, Powder.”

She kneels, takes her sister's hands and squeezes. “Look at me, please.”

Powder does, reluctantly. A bitter tear slides down her cheek. Vi brushes it aside with her thumb. 

“I have no idea what’s about to happen,” she confesses. “I’m scared. And Ekko–he just saw Benzo die, he can’t fight. I need you to stay with him.”

Powder’s eyes shift towards the boy, who is still frozen with shock and fear and grief. 

Vi pushes a flare into Powder’s hands. “If they come for you, take Ekko, take this, and run. Stay together. Wherever you are, light it up, and I’ll find you. I promise.”

It’s not the answer Powder wants, but it’s the answer Vi gives her. She takes Vander’s gauntlets and leads Mylo and Claggor out of the basement, leaving her alone with Ekko.

The panic and anxiety and terrible sense of helplessness sends Powder into one of her fits. 

Ekko’s only seen them a couple of times. Vander always took Powder away when it happened. 

She wails and cries, clawing at her hair and ripping her inventions apart. The monkey toy is beheaded and tossed across the room, still clanging its cymbals. 

Powder shrieks. Ekko is frozen, unsure what to do. He’s still rattled by Benzo’s death and doesn’t know how to help. If he can help. 

He watches her lift her bag, ready to hurl it across the room. Her chest heaves for breath through her cries. 

The energy seems to leave her all at once and she falls to her knees like a puppet with cut strings, still sobbing. She drops the bag and four blue crystals tumble out, sparking. 

The kids stare at the stones. 

Powder wipes her eyes. “I can help them.”

Ekko watches her stand up. He opens his mouth, but doesn’t know what to say. He should…stop her. Right?

Powder looks at him after she gathers the stones. She bites her lip, thinks, and he sees an idea dawn on her face. The girl runs to the other side of the room, grabs a steel pipe leaning against the wall. Used to be Claggor’s, but he got a bigger one as he grew and he doesn’t use it anymore.

She hurries back to Ekko, holds out the pipe. He stares at it.

“We—we shouldn’t…”

“We have to.”

“Vi said—“

“Vi said she was scared!” Powder reminds him. She’s shaking. “They—they might need help. What if something happens? What if they need someone and we aren’t there?”

Ekko hesitates, but he thinks she’s probably right. 

Benzo’s already gone. If Vi and Vander and the others die, what will be left?

But they’re just kids. They aren’t supposed to be heroes.

He gulps and takes the pipe. Powder looks scared the same way he feels, but she’s firm in her decision.

“How are we doing this?”

“We’ll watch, I think,” she says. “And—and if they need help, we’ll use these.”

She shows him the stones. They roll in her palm, clacking like marbles and sparking with blue energy. Ekko still doesn’t know what they are, but she seems certain of their usefulness.

He has to ask.

“What exactly do they do?”

They explode.

Powerful. Strong enough to hurl him and Powder from their perch and send them crashing into the dock in a winded heap. Enough to ignite all the chemicals in the cannery and utterly annihilate the enemy gang.

Beautiful. It’s a crescendo of roaring energy, of blue flame and lightning. The world seems to tremble in response, like nothing Ekko’s ever seen. Like an incomplete song verse that reaches his ears for a few moments before fading.

Awful.

The glee of success disappears in an instant as they see the collateral damage they’ve done.

Mylo and Claggor crushed and dead beneath rubble. Vander’s twisted, mutated body lying motionless. 

Vi is all that’s left, incandescent in her grief and fury as the storm in the sky finally breaks and comes down.

Ekko is speechless at first, frozen where he stands. Powder begs, pleads to Vi, and he flinches when the elder sister slaps the younger across her face.

She grabs Powder’s jaw, snarling, and he doesn’t think. Ekko scrambles between them, scared and nowhere near strong enough to stop Vi, but he doesn’t know what to do. 

“Vi! Vi, stop! Vi, STOP! You’re hurting her!”

Her fury is on him in an instant and he shrinks, but Ekko doesn’t step away. He holds the pipe in a shaky grip.

Vi might think about hitting him, too. He’s not sure. But the tear-streaked face of his friend turns away and she just…walks off. Ekko stares, wide-eyed. What? 

“Vi? Vi!” Powder screams after her. “Vi, come back! Please come back!”

She’s leaving, he realizes. Ekko feels numb. Vi is going to leave.

“Please, Violet!” Powder sobs. “I need you! PLEASE!”

Her sister does not respond. She turns a corner and vanishes from sight. Ekko drops the pipe from trembling fingers and falls to his knees beside Powder’s sobbing shape. The metal clangs loudly.

Powder cries. Ekko is frozen. 

They are alone. Amidst the fire and ruin and death of their own devising, their last guardian has abandoned them.

He hears footsteps. Glass crunching under boots. Voices.

Ekko feels horror crawl up his spine. The gang is still here. Some of them survived the blast.

Powder’s sobs draw them closer. They’re in the ruins of the cannery somewhere, concealed by smoke and fire.

Ekko wills his body to move. He fumbles, grabs the pipe again—

They won’t win a fight.

Ekko snatches Powder’s hand and tugs. She sobs, looks up at him through tears of grief and regret and hopelessness. 

Powder takes a breath between cries and they hear glass crunch from meters away. She flinches, face dropping with horror. She’s only just realized. Big blue eyes meet his.

“Run,” he breathes.

He tugs again and she stumbles to her feet. She seems too shocked to move properly and misses her footing. They both stagger, trip on debris and glass that digs into their knees. The pain jolts them and the children scramble to get back up.

A shape turns the corner, one Ekko recognizes. The suit, the infected, black eye. A bloody knife is clenched in his hand. 

His mismatched gaze falls on the pair trying to make their escape. If there’s a ghost of pity, it’s frozen into ice the instant it lands on Ekko.

“Kill them.”

Full-on terror supercharges him.

“RUN!” Ekko shrieks. Powder gasps and they dive into shadows. He dares to look back and shapes emerge from the smoke. At least one is coming after them. Not the man in the suit, who approaches Vander’s corpse and watches their attempt to flee.

Adrenaline pushes everything else away for the time being. The base instinct to run and hide from predators that will certainly kill them if they are caught takes over. 

Powder’s hand is caught tight in his. He holds onto her like a lifeline.

She’s all that’s left.

Don’t let go. Don’t let go. Don’t let go.

He doesn’t have time to think. Ekko sees familiar buildings and passages and alleys pass them in a blur—

“That one,” he decides, turning so fast he almost slams into the brick wall of a building. Powder slips into the alleyway after him and they scramble into a pipeline they’re just barely small enough to fit into. 

Powder suddenly screams behind him. She’s almost yanked from his grip. “NO! NO!”

Ekko twists and glimpses an arm reaching into the pipe, a hand clamped firmly around her ankle. Terror fills his veins anew. 

“C’mere you brat—“

The thug manages to drag her out as Powder kicks and screams. Ekko doesn’t let go of her hand and launches himself out of the pipeline with the desperate fury of a cornered animal. The steel pipe in his hand stabs forward, takes the thug in his throat.

He chokes, drops Powder to gasp for air, and Ekko doesn’t stop. He swings again and the steel violently slams into the thug’s temple. He drops to his knees.

He’s screaming as he lifts the pipe and smashes it into the man’s head. The pained, angered snarl is abruptly cut off. 

More shouts are closing in. Someone turns the corner of the alley and sees them.

Ekko gasps and now Powder is the one to grab his hand, shrieking, and pull him after her back into the pipeline. “RUN, EKKO!”

He obeys, scrambling after her just as someone gets close enough to reach inside, but they’re too far in now. A voice growls in frustration and the thugs leave, shouting to find where they’ll exit. 

Ekko’s heart thuds in his chest. Powder’s gasps and shuddering breaths mirror his own. 

They’re not safe. Not even close.

“Where—where?” Powder asks, stumbling over the words. “I don’t know this one.”

“Uh. Left—no,” Ekko tries to think again. “This one is…yeah, yeah, straight and a right, there’s a ladder—“

They crawl through the cold darkness. Ekko’s still trembling. He has to hope the thugs don’t know these pipes, or they’ll be trapped. 

They get to the ladder and Powder reaches the top, peeking out. Both of them hold their breath.

She gestures that it’s safe. Ekko does not feel as relieved as he thought he would. Powder crawls out and then reaches in to tug him after her.

It’s a rooftop near the surface of Zaun. Still exposed. Rain keeps coming down to soak the pair. There’s little smog to conceal them this high up, but the thugs are nowhere in sight, either.

Powder hugs herself, shivering in the cold and wet. Ekko wants to sit, but they can’t.  

“What now?” Powder asks. Her voice is broken. So small.

“Um…We need to hide. Maybe…Benzo…” Ekko falters a moment. His gaze falls, but lands on the bloodied pipe in his hand. 

It keeps him from slipping into that horrible daze again. He focuses on the dripping blood and squeezes the metal until his knuckles go pale.

“Benzo’s got a list,” he recalls, finding a little strength. “Hiding places. In case something bad ever happened. It’s—it’s at the shop. We’ll go there and find it.”

Powder nods absently. She’s slipping again. Ekko takes her hand and pulls her away. He is relieved when she follows.

They go in through the back door. Ekko does not dare look out the windows at the carnage still on the streets.

He goes to Benzo’s counter and checks the drawers. Was it this one…?

Yes!  

Ekko grabs the paper and yanks it into light. 

Safehouses, written in Benzo’s scrawl. It looks like Vander’s put some options there, too. His writing is messier, but still discernible. They must have done this together. He bets there’s another copy at the bar.

Ekko stuffs it into his pocket. They’ll go over their options later. They can’t stay here. Once the bodies are found by Topside, the whole store is gonna get cleaned out for an investigation or something.

Powder’s sitting on the floor, knees pulled up to her chest with her head down. She’s crying again.

Ekko wants so badly to just cry with her, but he can’t right now. If they both break down here, they’ll get caught. 

He snatches a couple of packs and starts to stuff them with what necessities they can carry. All the money in Benzo’s register. Some wrapped and canned food. A portable filter for water. Purification tablets. Couple of toothbrushes. Blankets. His trusty stopwatch again finds its home at his belt.

What else? He can’t take too much or they won’t be able to lift the bags…

Ekko has a thought. He rushes to Benzo’s safe in a cubby on the wall, pulling a step stool along to reach it. He tries the combination with shaky fingers.

“Don’t have been sold, don't have been sold…”

The safe opens. There’s more money; Benzo’s emergency stash. He takes all of it.

And a gun in the back.

It’s just an old handgun, definitely needs some love, but Powder is a killer shot if they can make it work. Ekko grabs it, grabs every single case of bullets—only three boxes, but that’s plenty —and shuts the safe. 

The bags are heavier than he’s happy about, but they have to carry everything they need right now. At least until they find a safe space to hunker down and…

He doesn’t know what will come after that. 

One thing at a time.

Ekko walks over to Powder and places a pack beside her. She stirs and looks up. Tears and snot are running down her face.

Ekko swallows and holds out the gun. “Here.”

She stares at it for a few moments before taking the weapon. She looks miserable, but having an actual gun in her hands brings a little focus back to her.

“Oh,” he fumbles and hands her the three boxes of ammunition. Powder blinks and slowly takes those, too. Wipes away the mess on her face.

She loads the firearm. It only holds four bullets at a time. She tests the weight in her hand. 

“It’s heavy,” she says dully. “Balance kind of sucks.”

“I think it’s old.”

“Uh-huh,” Powder sniffs. She takes a shaky breath, reaches for her pack and puts the boxes of bullets inside. She zips it closed. On wobbly legs, she stands and hefts the bag over her shoulder.

“Did you get the list?”

“Yeah,” Ekko pulls it from his pocket. Powder steps closer to see it herself. 

He goes through Benzo’s writing first.

The Last Drop.  

Babette.

Jericho (ask for his Trencher kid’s special).

There are more, but most are scratched out and a few are labeled as only good if they have masks. Which gives him an idea—

“Hold this.”

Ekko gives her the list, sets his bag down, and steels himself. 

“Wait, where are you—“ Powder sounds panicked.

“The Enforcers have gas masks,” he says. “I can get one for each of us. The bodies are outside.”

“I’m coming with you!”

He stupidly realizes that she thinks he’s going to leave her, too. Ekko nods and leads her to the door. He stops there for a second. 

“Don’t look at them too much,” he pleads. “It’s–it’s really bad.”

“I won’t.”

Ekko takes a deep breath and leads her outside into the bloodshed. He forces himself not to look at Benzo’s body. If he does, he’s going to break.

Powder’s face turns chalk white. She averts her eyes from one body and inadvertently finds her gaze settling on the eviscerated shape of another–

Ekko hears a gurgle before she throws up. He keeps his eyes on the ground, but manages to catch her braid before it can fall over her shoulder. 

Powder gasps, spitting up bile. She glances at him, teary-eyed from retching. “Sorry.”

“Don’t look,” he begs again.

Her throat bobs and she spits some more. Powder goes to one of the lifeless Enforcers and pointedly does not look anywhere but at the ground and at the mask she came for.

He crouches by another Enforcer’s lifeless shape and fumbles at the mask. The face beneath is pale with death, shock and surprise his last expression.

“Sorry,” Ekko whispers. 

Powder has gotten a mask, too. She turns quickly, trying to avoid looking at any more of the carnage as she searches for Ekko’s face. “They–they have guns. Should we–”

“HEY!” 

The pair jumps and whirls around. Three— alive —Enforcers are racing towards them from further up the street.

Oh fuck.

“Ok, we gotta go!” 

Powder rushes inside with him, snatching the packs and bolting through the back door. They slip into alleys and shadows, descend into the darkness of the pipes where the Enforcers will not follow.

Only when they’re surrounded again by silence and the trickling of water do they stop to rest. 

“Should we…try the bar? Get some more stuff?” Ekko dares. They can’t keep the building on their own, but maybe…

“I dunno how much more we can carry,” Powder’s voice is hollow. 

“Right.”

He doesn’t want to say that Vi might be there. Ekko doesn’t know what to think about her right now. Not after…

“We–we should check the list again,” Powder manages. “I’ve got some matches…”

“Yeah.”

So they hunker in the pipe together, shifting their bodies awkwardly to avoid the water running along the bottom. Powder fumbles until she finds Ekko’s hand and passes him Benzo’s list, then takes a match from her pocket and lights it. 

The tiny flame is a pitiful spark amidst the shadows.

Ekko squints at the list. Most of Benzo’s options are people they know. Babette’s is probably their best chance, but he’s not sure how much of the Undercity is actually safe now that Vander’s dead. The Lanes were his, and now…

“The Enforcers are gonna lose their shit,” he gulps. “Aren’t they?”

Powder’s bottom lip wobbles. “Yeah.”

They can’t stay in the city. Nowhere the Enforcers can reach is going to be safe. They’ll gut the Lanes looking for the culprit who murdered their Sheriff and they were seen by three of them stealing from the bodies.

“What did–what did Vander write?”

There’s a shorter list beneath Benzo’s, made with Vander’s unsteadier hand. There are only two choices.

Felicia and Connel’s old place. That one is scratched out. 

Mineshaft house (beneath the Pits). 

“Maybe that one,” he points at the second option. Ekko knows that Felicia and Connel were Powder’s parents. He doesn’t know what their old home is like, but Powder does not suggest they go there, so it’s probably a bust.

The Pits are deep in the fissures. Enforcers don’t venture that far. It’s even more lawless, full of thugs and fighters beating each other to death for money and entertainment.

The deeper they go, the greater the risk of running into the Chem-Barons, the worst the Undercity has to offer. But they’re caught between a rock and a hard place. 

Some choice.

Powder only shrugs lifelessly. “Sure.”

Ekko pockets the list as Powder drops the match into the water. The light is snuffed out, plunging them into darkness. 

They keep moving.

They make it to the Pits unnoticed. The rain does them that favor, at least. This late at night, no one wants to be in the streets with chemical-filled droplets coming down. Thank you, factory smog.

Vander’s hiding place in the mines has a location jotted down that Ekko follows once he gets his bearings. He’s never been in the Pits, but he knows where the mine shafts are relative to them. 

He keeps Powder’s hand in his. Never lets her go. Not for anything. 

She follows, silent. 

They find a boarded-up hole and remove the plywood, slipping inside and putting it back once they’re underground. 

Well. More underground. 

Water still trickles here, but it banks off in a different direction from the main shaft. Ekko’s shoe scrapes against loose stones and a dim glow fills his eyes. He freezes. 

“What was–”

His voice echoes and a glow fills the tunnels. He and Powder stare. 

The glow fades. 

Ekko pauses a moment. “Hello?”

The glow returns. Fades.

“Light.”

And there is light, albeit a brief one. 

He leads Powder to one of the walls and speaks again. What lights up is some type of fungi. 

How does that work? They don’t have ears …maybe the reverberation of his voice in the tunnel?

Whatever. He’s too tired to think about it beyond that. They have light. They won’t have to waste matches moving in the tunnel. That’s something, at least. 

He leads Powder deeper into the tunnels, simply saying “light” whenever the glow fades. 

They reach a junction. The tunnel has been straight so far, but now they have to make a choice. Vander’s note doesn’t mention this. Maybe the mine shaft is simple enough that getting lost isn’t that risky…

Ekko glances back at Powder, whose face lacks all the vibrancy he associates with her. He has to decide. 

He calls for light. Looks at their options. The one on the right seems to lead slightly downhill. This part of the tunnel is dry, but going deeper, they might run into water. That’s the last thing they need right now, cold and wet as they are.

He tugs Powder’s hand and takes them down the left path. 

They find the safehouse. Though calling it “safe” or a “house” is…a stretch.

Ekko has to kick at the door three times before it finally opens. The place is little more than a wooden wall covering a small cavern in the side of the tunnel. There’s a wood floor and ceiling, too, though everything is…old. The glowing fungi cover the place; that was what had sealed the door shut. 

There are chests and barrels scattered around. A wooden table. Chairs. A crate full of bottles. Some papers. There’s even a bookshelf, though it’s mostly empty. A half-collapsed bed. 

On one wall is a ragged, torn map of the tunnels and the fissures. There’s a moth-eaten banner he vaguely recognizes as something from Vander’s revolution. A couple of coats hung up on racks. Matching hardhats. Other stuff. Lots of dust. 

He sees a lantern hanging from the ceiling and looks at Powder. She says nothing, but drops his hand and shifts a chair so she can reach it. Another match goes as she lights the candle inside. 

They have some permanent light, though with it comes silence.

Ekko closes the door behind them. Drops his pack on the floor (his shoulders are aching) and starts to explore a bit. Powder does the same, though she ambles more aimlessly.

There are a couple pairs of metal gauntlets on the floor by the wall. Vander’s, he recognizes. Maybe he lived here at some point.

Powder leans against a wall and slides down to sit. Ekko stumbles over to join her. He breathes through his nose and it comes heavier than he’s expecting. 

In this pitiful little wreck of a house, utterly alone and left with nothing but each other, the children finally break.  

The sob wrenched from Powder’s throat, from deep in her soul swells Ekko’s eyes with tears and he cries harder than he’s ever cried. They don’t lean against each other for support so much as collapse, bodies wracking and heaving with gasps and wails. 

The fungi glow around them for a long time. Maybe they didn’t need to use up a match, after all. 

They cry themselves to sleep. How long they rest, she isn’t sure.

Powder wakes up first. She’s a mess. Her face is crusted with tear-trails and dried snot. She wipes at her face, sniffs, and blinks at the candle still burning away, though it’s mostly wax now. Luckily, there are more of them in a half-turned crate in the corner. 

Ekko’s still out beside her. She frowns at him, slowly registering what’s around her–

Oh. 

The cannery. The explosion. Benzo. Mylo. Claggor. Vander.

Vi. 

She starts crying again. It wakes Ekko up and it isn’t long before he’s crying again, too. 

By the time she’s done, she’s exhausted. Thirsty. Hungry. Her body aches. Falling asleep sitting here was a terrible idea. 

Powder sniffs, wipes her face again. Tears keep coming, but the sobs are slowly going away. 

Ekko goes quiet a minute later. He presses his palms over his eyes and takes shaky breath after shaky breath. 

She watches his throat bob. Finally he lifts his head and looks at her. 

“We should–we should eat.”

His voice is a wreck. Powder nods, unwilling to speak.

They have some canned fruit. Best to eat that first. It hydrates them a little, too. Powder doesn’t realize how hungry she is until she takes a bite, and she drinks the juice down her parched throat until the can is empty.

Ekko stumbles to his feet and starts to empty his pack. Powder doesn’t know what to do besides mirror him. They set their pitiful collection of items from Benzo’s shop on the table to take stock. 

It’s…not encouraging. They’ve got some useful tools, but the big problem is food and water. What they have won’t last long, even if they ration it. 

But they’ve got some money. A filter and purification tablets for water (which they can get from the cave). The two stolen Enforcer masks. Weapons to defend themselves; a bloodied pipe and a gun that’s probably older than they are.

They need more food, she thinks absently.

But more than that…

“What do we do?” Powder asks. “What are we supposed to do?”

Ekko opens his mouth, but nothing comes out for a minute.

“I…don’t know,” he admits. “Maybe we should…just try to stay alive until we can figure it out?”

That’s…not much. But it’s all they’ve got. 

Ekko hesitates. “Do we…do we try to find Vi?”

Just the name fills her with a surge of–of anger so intense that Powder slams her fist on the table hard enough that her hand bursts with pain. 

“She left me!” Powder spits, her chest suddenly heaving like she might cry again. “She is not my sister anymore.”

All she can think of when Vi’s name comes up is the way she just–just walked off, just left her and Ekko in the rain to die–

His hand reaches over to take hers, uncurls the clenched fist. Powder sniffs, fights back tears. Her hand aches, trembles from how hard she struck the wood, but she doesn’t think she’s broken anything. Something stings, though, lingers in her skin.

Ekko takes a look and pulls a splinter out. Powder winces, lifts her hand to suck at the cut. 

“Ok,” he agrees. “Then…we stay together. We don’t separate, not for anything. Or for anyone.”

Powder closes her eyes and her teeth dig into her skin. She pulls her hand out of her mouth and shoves the cut against her shirt. It still stings. “What if–she was right? What if I get you killed, too? I’m a Jinx, like–like Mylo said–”

“You’re not a Jinx, I hated when he called you that,” there’s venom in Ekko’s words. “All those stupid names–”

“But I am, I screwed everything up again–”

“If you’re a Jinx, then I am too. We made that plan together,” his hands are shaking. “And–and I gave you guys the tip. What happened–if it’s your fault, then it’s my fault.”

Powder swallows. She can taste iron. 

“We tried to help. We didn’t mean to…It was an accident,” his voice cracks. He might cry again. 

But he doesn’t leave.  

Not like Vi has. 

“We stay together,” Ekko says again. His voice is wobbly. He reaches for her hand and squeezes tight. “We don’t let go.”

Powder squeezes back. 

That first day is hard. 

They don’t leave the safehouse. They tidy the place up a little, pulling the fungi from the door and other problematic spots. There’s no getting rid of all that dust, but they do their best. 

There’s a letter on the table from Vander to someone named Silco. It’s an apology, for what they don’t know for sure. Whatever the case, “Silco” obviously never found it. They hang onto the letter in case the person in question ever comes looking. 

They figure out how to make a fire to dry off and keep themselves warm. That has to be done outside in the tunnel so they don’t fill the house with smoke. Or set the floorboards on fire. 

The cavern is cool; the benefit of living in a cave is that the temperature stays consistent pretty much all the time. But it’s also not going to warm up just because they’re soaked and freezing. 

Once they get the fire going, they strip down, wrap themselves up (separately) in the blankets they took from Benzo’s, and set their wet clothes down to dry by the flame (note to self: get more clothes). Then they huddle shoulder-to-shoulder to keep warm, shivering. 

Survival takes priority. If either of them gets sick now, they’re fucked. As for stripping down, who cares? They’re Trencher kids, not Pilties. Whenever Powder and Ekko went junk diving at the heap for goodies, they’d get covered in grease and Vi would hose them off afterward–

She ruthlessly crushes that thought. Thinking about Vi makes her angry and Powder is just too tired to want the anger right now. 

But that train of thought gives her an idea. 

“Maybe we could try the junk heap,” she suggests. “Look for anything useful. Make…I don’t know. What do we need? Besides food and more clothes.”

“We can make a list,” Ekko says, glancing over his shoulder at the dilapidated house. “There’s paper here. We can use charcoal to write with. This place, uh…it needs some work.”

“Yeah.”

He tucks the blankets around his shoulders a little tighter. Ekko closes his eyes. Powder does the same, basking in the warmth of the fire. His weight beside her is a lifeline. 

“Hey,” Ekko murmurs suddenly amidst the crackling fire. “You remember how you wanted to ride one of the airships?”

“Mmhm.”

“Maybe we could do that.”

“Maybe,” she hums. Stares into the glow of the flame until her eyes hurt and she blinks spots away. “Think we have enough money?”

Ekko snorts. “Not unless we want to have nothing left afterwards. I was thinking we could…just sneak on board.”

Her mouth twitches upwards for a moment. “I like that plan better.”

“Where did you wanna go?”

Powder shrugs. “Dunno. I just wanted to ride in one. Never thought I’d like…actually leave.”

“Ionia?”

“That’d be nice. I have no idea how to farm, though.”

“Bilgewater?”

“We’re gonna need a better gun.”

“Noxus.”

“Gross.”

“The Freljord?”

“Colder. Even more gross.”

Ekko snorts. “Shurima?”

“Too much sand.”

“Demacia?”

“Too many sticks up too many asses.”

“Ixtal?”

“...I forgot that place exists.”

He giggles. Powder somehow–despite everything –finds herself grinning a little. 

“Guess we’re stuck here,” he says. “Sump rats belong in the fissures.”

“Guess so,” she agrees.

Venturing out of the tunnels is scary.

Ekko puts the plywood boards back into place as Powder keeps an eye out for danger. Telling time in the mineshaft is impossible; once he gets an idea for what time of day it is, he’ll set his stopwatch to match daybreak or something. 

They’ve done a little exploring in the tunnels the last…however long it’s been. Ekko thinks they’ve been belowground for at least a few days. They gave up a fair bit of time after discovering that one of the barrels in the safehouse was actually still watertight. 

They’d followed the trickling water in the mines to some shallow pools and filled the barrel up (while filtering the water), capped it off, then rolled it all the way back. That took hours, left them sore as all hell, but it was a win they desperately needed. 

Once it was at the safehouse, they dropped a purification tablet into it. No way that water was chemical-free. A few hours later, they had plenty of fresh, non-toxic water. 

Now they’ve gotta take a look at the Lanes. Get their bearings. See what’s happening. 

Powder’s got her gun (which they’ve tested in the tunnels, nearly blew their eardrums out) on her hip with a makeshift holster. Ekko’s got his steel pipe. They’ve emptied their packs so they can refill them, taken a little money, and left everything else in the safehouse.

Ekko can hear people shouting and scuffling, but there’s always a fight going on in the Pits. It sounds a little far. Probably not worth investigating right now. 

They have to focus on one thing at a time. 

Ekko takes Powder’s hand and they scurry into the shadows like rats. 

Hours later, there’s not a lot of good news. 

Enforcers are still going through the Lanes in force. Ekko and Powder stay high, moving across rooftops and slipping into alleys when they need to. 

They perch on pipes, hidden by shadows, and stare at The Last Drop.

The bar is a flurry of activity, thugs moving in and out of the building. There’s no way they’ll ever get inside with all those people. They probably shouldn’t be this close in the first place.

He sees that same man again–the one in the suit, with the infected eye–step outside and speak to a few of the thugs, seemingly giving them orders. 

“It’s him,” Ekko scowls. “That guy–he’s the boss.”

“He’s…smaller than I thought he’d be,” Powder remarks, frowning. “Bet we could take him.”

“Alone maybe.”

“I could shoot him.”

“You could. But…we’d get caught.”

“...Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,” she sounds bitter and defeated. He feels the same.

The source of all their misery walks around and gives orders, moves into Powder’s home with no one to stop him. Ekko wants nothing more than to tell her to take the shot. She’s good –he bets she could get him the first try.

But they would die.

Ekko sighs, shoots the boss one more baleful glare from the shadows, and squeezes Powder’s hand. “C’mon.”

They only briefly touch the surface of the Undercity. The sun is setting against Piltover’s gleaming towers. Night is coming. 

Ekko twists the dial on his stopwatch, sets the timer. It’ll go off when morning comes and they’ll flee back into the Pits. The Undercity lives in perpetual twilight thanks to the smog, never truly sleeps, but enough people stick to the same diurnal schedule as Piltover that they can rely on nighttime to make moving…safe-ish. 

They do some scouting, clinging to hidden paths and darkness as the sun falls. They do not dare emerge until the sun vanishes. The Enforcers pull out of the Lanes. 

It’s a little safer. Even so, they stick to the outskirts of the Undercity. 

Ekko and Powder are bundles of nerves as they sneak around. A few days ago, this place was home. 

But the house isn’t theirs anymore. It’s like walking into the arms of a hostile, armed host. 

They need something to hide their faces first. Ekko remembers a couple of Benzo’s old business partners and other shop owners. He takes them to a clothing parlor and they watch from a rooftop as the woman who manages the place locks up for the night. 

She’s got a couple of goons watching the shop from across the street. They’re slouched against a brick wall, smoking and acting like they aren’t paid muscle. 

Ekko’s chosen this particular store because Benzo’s told him it actually belongs to some Piltie on high. The stuff inside is quality, though it’s pricey. 

But only if you buy it. 

“How do we get in?” Powder whispers. 

“Vent on the roof,” he replies, then leads her around so they can slip into an alley and reach the street. They scurry across to the other side like rats, find the pipes on the outside walls of another building that they can climb. 

Slowly, quietly, they cross the roofs until they reach the vent Ekko remembers. He slowly eases the grate open, freezing whenever it starts to squeak. Powder keeps watch, as anxious as he is. 

Ekko gets the vent open and sets it down as silently as he can. He lets out a long breath when he finally takes his hands from the metal. 

They sneak inside and emerge from another grate in the corner of a back room. Just like he remembers. There are bricks missing in the wall–easy to climb. 

Powder drops down after him. “How’d you know about this place?”

“Where’d you think I got your gloves?” 

“... She got me those gloves.”

“She asked me if I knew where to get a good pair, but she couldn’t afford them. So I nabbed ‘em.”

Powder doesn’t say anything to that. Ekko leads her into the main room. “Stay low.”

They sneak around, find a couple of black cloaks that’ll fit them just fine with some…adjustments. Each grab a new pair of boots. Several sets of clothes. They’ll definitely need those. 

When they sneak back out, Powder presses a pair of brand new, warm brown gloves into Ekko’s hands. They put the vent grate back, don the new cloaks, and flee into the dark. 

The night is still young, so they choose to retreat to the safehouse for now and stash their loot. They’ll reemerge in the black hours of morning, when most of the people on the streets will be stumbling around drunk. 

It means testing the waters with the more dangerous scum of the Undercity, too. These hours are their hours. 

They stick to the Pits this time; familiarizing themselves with the streets and dark corners. Ekko takes the lead again, and Powder is the second punch waiting with her hand always close to the gun. 

Some drunk idiot is stumbling down the street with a bottle in his hand. Every now and then he takes a swig. They watch him from the shadows. She’s never mugged someone before, but they’ve gotta do what they’ve gotta do.

He eventually arrives at a door and fumbles through his pockets for a key. As he gets it open, Ekko starts to move–

Powder sees someone coming in on their mark and grabs his arm to stop her friend. 

The man hurries, quietly, and sneaks up on the drunk. There’s a dirty smirk on his face as he grabs the guy’s shoulder–

There’s a whirl of motion, the drunk snatching his hand and flipping the would-be mugger into the concrete at his feet. Bone snaps, the thief’s breath leaves his lungs in a whoosh.  

The drunk is not drunk. There’s a triumphant sneer on his face as his trap is sprung and he drags the stunned mugger into his home. The door shuts behind him. 

The kids are frozen by how fast it all happened. 

Right. Fighting pits. 

“I don’t think we should steal from this place,” Powder whispers.

“I agree!” Ekko almost squeaks. They scramble back to the mineshaft.

It’s been a couple of months. 

Each day brings a different struggle. They need more food. They need to get fresh water. They need more purification tablets. They need bandages. They always need something.  

Living on their own is hard. They ration food and it still seems to go too quickly. Water at least is easy enough, (so long as they can purify it) but rolling that barrel up and down the tunnel with your stomach rumbling sucks. 

Worse is that the streets are getting more dangerous. The Enforcers pull out eventually, but as soon as they’re gone, the Chem-Barons emerge with all their scum. They leave the deeper parts of the fissures and just move in.

They hear rumors as they sneak through the night. Silco–the man responsible for the murders of Benzo and Piltover’s Sheriff–has assumed control of the Lanes. Several Chem-Barons are sometimes seen meeting him.

They put the pieces together on their own. He’s in charge of all of it.

And they realize Silco is the man Vander was apologizing to in his letter. Not that that did any good, Powder thinks bitterly. 

Shimmer starts to flood the Lanes. 

It comes out of nowhere. They catch sight of dealers and junkies. It seems like the whisper of it rises to a crescendo overnight. Suddenly tons of people are clamoring for a taste of the substance. 

Powder is a little ashamed to admit that she kind of wanted to try it. 

They’re surviving, but it’s a grim existence. There’s not a lot of joy in their lives. She’s so tired all the time, maybe if she just got a little pick-me-up…

But then she turned thirteen the other day. Ekko remembered; he gave her his share of dinner, despite her protests. Despite his belly rumbling. 

He lit a candle for her to blow out at the table, sang her happy birthday, and it made her cry. 

She didn’t think about trying Shimmer again after that.

They’re both skinny. They’ve lost weight they can barely afford to lose. They aren’t starving to death, (yet) but Winter looms, still distant, yet inevitable. Those months will kill them if they can’t keep themselves fed. 

All the weight keeps building on their shoulders. Something has to give.

Powder isn’t sure when it starts, but the Scribbles that have always scratched at the back of her mind are louder than they used to be. 

And they have voices now. 

She finishes her dinner–still hungry, but they have to keep rationing–and the pit in her belly only makes it worse. Powder stumbles from her seat at the table, flinches as Mylo’s voice sneers at her. 

Useless and greedy. You don’t deserve to be full.

She freezes. It’s like he’s there, in the room, talking into her ear. The scrabbling at her mind grows loud like a siren. She whimpers, falls to a crouch. She thinks Ekko might say something. 

She hears more. Claggor’s voice is a whisper she can’t quite catch. Vander is just background noise. Dread fills her as she hears a whisper that reminds her of Vi. Mylo sneers again, clearer than the others.

Just starve. Ekko will do fine without you. Better, actually.

“Stop,” she sobs. Her fingers turn into claws, drive into her hair. “Please stop.”

You killed us. Murderer.

“It was an accident! It was an accident, I didn’t mean to–”

Jinx Jinx Jinx Jinx Jinx–

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m a Jinx, I’m a Jinx–”

“Powder!”

Arms wrap around her, wrestle her hands from her head and pin them to her sides. Powder thrashes, babbling and crying, but the sobs wracking her body keep her from really controlling herself. 

“You were right, ok?” Powder cries. “I’m a Jinx!”

“You’re not a Jinx!”

Yes, you are. Always have been, always will be.

“Mylo, please, I’m sorry–”

You killed me. Sorry doesn’t cut it, Jinx.

“It was an accident!”

All your fault all your fault all your fault–

“Mylo, stop!” Powder wails.

“Mylo, SHUT UP!”

Powder freezes for sheer surprise as Mylo almost goes quiet. He’s still scrabbling. Still sneering. Ekko squeezes her, tight, and that grounds her a little. 

But her dead brother is still there in her head.

She’s trembling like a leaf. Bottom lip quivering. Breaths coming fast and shaky. 

Ekko’s voice is in her ear. “Did–did that work?”

Little man always trying to help. He’s too good for you. 

But Mylo’s cruelty is a little quieter.

“Powder?”

“I can hear him,” she chokes out. “He’s–he’s in my head, Ekko. Claggor—Vander and Vi, too.”

Ekko swallows. Squeezes her again. They’re on the floor. He’s holding her wrists, keeping her arms pinned against her chest.

He’s half-starved and he can still hold you down. God, you’re so weak.

“Stop,” Powder begs. 

“What did he say?”

“Wh-what?”

“Tell me what he said.”

“...He–he said I’m weak.”

“He tried to arm wrestle Vander once and got beat by just his little finger. He’s full of crap.”

Still not as weak as you.

Powder closes her eyes. “He says–he’s not as weak as me.”

“Powder’s stronger than you. You called her all those awful names and she’s always done her best anyway. She’s smarter than you ever were.”

Not smart enough to save me.

She sobs. “Not smart enough to save me.”

“I-I couldn’t save you, either.”

“Jinx Jinx Jinx–” she echoes Mylo with a sob.

“She’s not a Jinx you dick,” Ekko snarls. “Stop talking to her.”

He hasn’t let her go. Powder cries. She can feel his heartbeat against her back through his too-skinny chest. 

“Powder?”

“He’s still there,” she whimpers. “He won’t go away.”

“I’m not going away, either.”

“Ekko, I’m going insane!” Powder can hear the hysteria in her voice. The Scribbles rise in volume with her panic–

“You’re not insane.”

You are, you are!

“You are, you are…”

“Powder, you are not insane.”

“I can hear them. They’re dead, but I can hear them.”

“They’re not real! Listen to me, they’re not real!”

“I can hear them!”

“But they can’t touch you!”

Ekko squeezes again, so tight he almost crushes the wind out of her. Powder squirms. He lets the pressure up a bit, but doesn’t release her. 

“I’m here. I’m real. They’re not.”

“We are real,” Mylo defies him and Powder whimpers.

“I killed you, Mylo,” there’s grief and regret in his voice, in the breath against her ear. But there’s a challenge in there. “I helped. I was there too, remember? Do something about it.”

Powder waits, trembling. 

Mylo says nothing clear. Oh he’s still there, still scratching. He doesn’t go far. But Ekko’s challenge is unmet.

Because Mylo can’t touch him.

“Powder, am I helping?” Ekko asks anxiously. “Or am I making it worse?”

“I think you’re helping,” she swallows. “Don’t let me go. You’re–you’re real.”

We’re real, too.

“No, you’re not,” Powder rejects, quivering. “You can’t hurt him.”

You’ll hurt him one day. Like always. Jinx.

“He says I’ll hurt you one day. That I’m a Jinx.”

“He’s a liar. You won’t hurt me. You’re not a Jinx. He’s just being an asshole again.”

Powder breathes. Ekko’s hands rub at her wrists. Mylo gets a little quieter. 

“I won’t let you go.”

She believes him, and that makes her think she might just get through this.

It feels like forever. In reality, it’s a couple of hours. 

Slowly, the Scribbles begin to fade into background noise. Powder slumps back against Ekko. She’s exhausted. This attack was so much worse than it’s ever been.

He hasn’t let her go. Not for anything. 

“They’re gone,” she whispers. “Sort of. In the background.”

Ekko relaxes his grip. Powder moves her wrists out of his hands, but takes them in hers and squeezes. He doesn’t pull away.

“That’s never happened before. Has it?”

“No,” she admits. “I–you remember my…my fits?”

“Yeah.”

“It used to be just, this scratching in my head. It would get loud and drive me crazy. But it never– talked.”

He doesn’t say it, but she knows they both think it. Whatever’s messed up in her head has gotten worse. 

Ekko takes a breath behind her.

“What helped and what didn’t?” 

“What?”

“I need to know what helped. In case it happens again. So I can help you.”

“No, I–I could hurt you. I freak out, Ekko–”

“So tell me how to help.”

She closes her eyes. Tears slide down her face.

“I’ll hurt you,” she tries again, already faltering.

“I’ll help you.”

Powder’s attempt at resolve gives way. She squeezes Ekko’s hands.

“Don’t let me go.”

“I won’t.”

Chapter Text

Act I, Part II: I’m Still Here

Time goes by. They’ve been on their own for almost eight months now.

Winter is around the corner. The air near the surface of Zaun is cold and crisp. Ekko shivers as the breeze caresses his face. He pulls the hood of his coat over his head, tucks the bandanna around his neck up to the bridge of his nose. 

Beside him, Powder taps his arm with her gloved hand and nods towards the rooftop below. He glances at Piltover gleaming beneath the moon for only a second and follows her.

The dropping temperature feels like death. They’ll have to stay in the tunnels as much as possible when it starts to freeze. Emerge only when they need to resupply.

They’ve figured the whole survival thing out, for the most part. Between thievery and quietly doing odd jobs–usually fixing things, or stealing items to sell–for a little money, they’re holding on. 

Both of them are still lean. Probably skinnier than they should be, what with Winter so close. But they’ve done the best they can. He wishes they could hibernate like bears, wait out the colder months, but they’d probably starve to death in their sleep anyway.

If they can get a couple good scores before the cold sets in, he thinks they’ll be ok. They’ve been steadily filling up a larder in the mineshaft, still rationing, but there’s a decent amount of food stocked up now. And they’re looking to set up a second safehouse, though they haven’t found a good location yet.

As long as it limits their trips to the surface, he’ll call it a win. The cold always kills at least a few people in the fissures. This year it’ll probably take more than its fair share, what with the Shimmer junkies ambling around begging for another dose. 

Ekko does not intend for him and Powder to be amongst the frozen, emaciated bodies left for the rats and street dogs. 

They make their way towards the docks. Tonight they’ve got another little project to check on. 

It’s risky, venturing to the surface like this. Silco’s reach is expanding with the Shimmer. They’ve gotten good at avoiding attention, but there’s always a chance someone in his fold might recognize them. 

They slink to the end of a busted-up pier. There’s not too many people around at this time of night, but the docks are never completely quiet. 

Ekko drops to his belly and leans over the edge, reaching around for a thin line he tied there yesterday. Powder keeps watch behind him. 

He finds the line and pulls. It’s heavier than he remembers. 

A small trap emerges dripping from the water and inside are a few scuttling crabs. They’re not very big, but that’s fine. They’ve caught something. It’s a little extra food once it’s cooked and purified of the river pollutants.

Ekko pulls the trap up, extracts a wooden box from inside his pack. He chucks the crustaceans in one after another, twists the latch on the box shut. Normally he would reset the trap, but they’ve hit this spot three times this week. They’re pushing their luck in such an exposed area, so he packs up the trap, too. 

The box (and their catch) goes into his pack and Ekko stands. He taps Powder’s arm and they slip from the pier. 

They’re about to leave the docks through an alley when a shape emerges in their path from around the corner. Ekko stops, reaches for the steel pipe at his back. 

It’s a big thug, almost as muscular as Vander was and with a long knife twirling in his hand. 

“Catch anything?”

“No luck.”

“Shame I don’t believe you. Pass the bag.”

“No.”

His mouth curls upwards. He spins the knife in his hand again–

That’s the moment when Powder lifts the gun towards him. The thug’s face drops.

“On the ground, asshole,” she snaps. He sneers at her. 

“You don’t have the nerve–”

A gunshot cracks out and he drops as the bullet takes him in the knee. His mouth falls open in shock—

Ekko moves in a blur and the pipe swings through the air, catches the man in the chin to shut him up. He smashes the knife away, then belts him across the head before he can recover. 

He’s out cold. 

They run for his legs and heave to pull him into the shadows. The big guy’s heavy as all hell; they don’t drag him far. 

They hurry to pat him down, stealing whatever they can use. Powder slips the knife into her bag. Ekko grabs some money. A lighter. There’s not much else; he came to rob them, not the other way around. 

The gunshot already has a ruckus stirring as voices echo over the docks. Not even a minute after the thug goes down, they flee into the fissures again. 

“Guess we’re not going back to the docks for a while,” Powder mumbles, reloading her gun. She took apart the firearm once dinner was going, cleaned it up piece by piece before she put it back together. Once it’s loaded again, she sets it in the holster and puts it aside.

Ekko shrugs, leaning against her by the fire. They’ve got the crabs boiling in a pot. “We were pushing it, anyway. Least we got the trap back.”

“Mm.”

Her eyes are closed. Ekko nudges her. “Want me to get your braid?”

Powder nods and twists. He shifts, reaching up to undo her hair. 

Neither of them have gotten a haircut since they hit the streets. Powder’s thick blue braid is longer than ever. Ekko’s working on dreadlocks, though his hair is still short compared to Powder’s. 

“There.”

She shakes her hair loose. Ekko stands to go into the house, finds the brush, and comes back into the tunnel. Without a word, he sits back behind Powder and starts working out the knots. 

“Thanks,” she murmurs. 

Ekko just hums and keeps brushing. 

It isn’t much longer before their dinner is ready. They crack the shells open, put what little salt they’ve got onto the meat, and each takes some canned fruit. Pretty good as dinner goes for a couple of homeless kids.

By the time they snuff out the fire, Powder’s dead on her feet. So is Ekko, for that matter. They clean up, put out the lantern, and slip beneath the blankets on the half-collapsed bed they’ve fixed enough to hold their weight. 

There’s not a lot of room, but it doesn’t matter. Sharing space and body heat is second-nature to them at this point, especially on the worst days when they are hurt and grieving and need the comfort.

He can tell by the way her breath eases that she’s asleep. Ekko drifts off moments later. 

Powder screws on the cap of her latest invention. It’s an early warning system; meant to alert them if someone is coming down the tunnel. 

She and Ekko have been working on this for weeks, scrounging through the junk heaps along with their usual supply runs to find the materials they need. They can’t make anything super complex, but they don’t really need to.. 

Between the two of them, it hasn’t taken long to figure something out. It’s just been about getting what they need for the system to work. 

The concept is simple: they’ve set up several trip wires with pipes running along the corners of the tunnel floor. When triggered, a sound-based explosive will go off and send a tremor through the pipeline, which leads all the way to the safehouse. 

The vibration sets off alarm bells connected to the end of the pipes inside the house, loud enough to wake them up if they’re asleep when someone comes snooping. Just to be safe, there are pipes running in from several entrances. Some from their main entry point, and others from exits they’ve found deeper in the mineshaft. But they all lead to two pipes they’ve connected to the house, so they know which direction any intruders will come from.

She’s nervous, though. Powder studies her creation apprehensively. 

“It’s gonna work,” Ekko encourages. He’s sitting on the other side of the table, finishing up another trip wire. 

“Maybe,” she admits, hesitating. “I…don’t know if I want it to.”

He stares at the device she’s put together. It’s non-lethal. Just a lot of noise triggered by a chemical reaction they’ve tested at the junk heap. She knows it can’t hurt anyone. Maybe leave their ears ringing for a while at the most.

It’s not a bomb. Not really. Powder hasn’t made a bomb since…

“Pow, we can try something else,” Ekko offers. “Just because it’s easy doesn’t mean we can’t–”

“No,” she swallows. “I–we need this to work. We talked, remember? We’re in and out of the tunnels so much, someone’s gonna notice eventually. We need to make sure no one creeps in.”

Ekko nods slowly. To be fair, she was the one who suggested an explosive because it was the first thing that came to mind. She just…didn’t think it would bother her so much, putting one together again. 

It can’t even hurt them. But she can’t forget the one time her bombs did work. 

Jinx, Jinx, Jinx.

Colorful Scribbles peek at the corners of her vision. Powder squeezes her eyes shut. “No.”

“Let’s take a break.”

“Ekko–”

He’s already out of his chair and moving around. Ekko knows the signs by now. Powder hears the scratching and whispers in her head and lets him pull her away from the device without further protest. 

They sit together and eat. Ekko holds her hand, talks about ideas he’s had for inventions they’re in no position to make, but his voice helps. Reminds her what is real and what isn’t. 

He’s there, always there until the Scribbles settle down again. And then he lingers until she’s ready to stand up and keep going. 

Ekko doesn’t leave. Never lets her go, and Powder doesn’t have words for how grateful she is to have him with her.

It’s another day. Well, another night, more accurately. 

They’re going for a warehouse in the southeast reaches of the Undercity. It’s a little close to the surface, so they don’t venture there often. The last time they hit it was a couple of months ago. 

It’s always been a mixed bag of stored supplies; Chemtech, basic parts, clothing, purification tablets, canned food–it kind of depends on their luck whenever they show up. Ekko’s pretty sure it’s something of a halfway point for bulk shipments before it reaches whoever is buying or selling it. 

This place isn’t a usual target for them exactly because what’s inside isn’t very consistent. It’s not even their main goal tonight, but they’re in the area and it never hurts to check it out. 

They slip in through the vents (a usual entry point of theirs, but they mix it up) and emerge into one of the smaller rooms. Each one is locked, so they’ll have to go through them one by one along the vents. 

The first room is a bust. And the second. Both are empty. The next one has some furniture. Third bust. 

Ugh. 

The fourth room is better. Purification tablets sent in packages. 

“Well, don’t mind if I do,” Powder hums as they take a few bags. Even that is enough to keep them going for a while. Ekko feels some relief; that’s clean water for the colder months sorted out. 

They bail back into the vents once the theft is done. 

“One more?” Ekko queries. 

Powder shrugs. “Sure.”

They don’t go too deep into this place. It’s always got people working inside. Just because it’s a little emptier at night does not mean they are alone. 

The next vent has a distinctive odor coming from it. Ekko wrinkles his nose at the odd scent; like chemicals, but sweeter. 

They remove the vent from the wall and peer inside. It’s a bunch of storage vats. This is one of the larger rooms, usually full of food pallets or Chemtech. Today, however, there’s only–

Ekko blinks as he registers the low, purple glow emanating from the vats. He has half a second to process that before it hits him. 

Shit. 

“Shimmer,” Powder gasps, scared. They both know what that means. 

The doors are suddenly pulled upwards. The two of them haven’t even put the vent grate back into place when light pours into the room and blinds them. The grate slips from their fingers and clatters, loudly, to the floor. 

Ekko squints and blanches. Shit, shit, shit.

Sevika is as surprised as they are terrified. So are the thugs around her. 

But not for long. 

“YOU!” Sevika snarls. Her left arm is a Chemtech prosthetic, clenching with the grinding of steel. A long blade springs forth. 

The children flee. Ekko scrambles to get Powder ahead and both yelp as a sword plunges through the wall and nearly stabs him in the back. Sevika stabs again and again until she reaches the wall, but they’re long gone. 

“Find them!” Sevika howls. “Don’t let them escape again!”

“What do we do?” Powder hisses with fright. 

“Uh…” Ekko wracks his brain for an answer. Silco’s goons have never been here before as far as he knows. Or they were just lucky enough to avoid them in previous visits. 

“Wait, the Shimmer,” Powder suddenly breaks the tense silence. 

“What?”

“It’s flammable,” she scrambles for her pockets (difficult in the vents) and pulls out her matches. 

“We can’t go back!” Ekko protests. 

“They’re out there looking for us! If we set the Shimmer on fire, they’ll come back in, try to save what they can!”

He hesitates, but she’s got a point. Silco’s business runs on Shimmer. He won’t like losing that much product. 

Oh hell. Sevika’s already recognized them. They’ve poked the sleeping bear, may as well commit.

“Give it to me,” Ekko says, snatching the match from her hand. He’s behind her in the vent; it’s easier this way. 

They creep back through the vents to the Shimmer storage. Ekko’s heart is pounding as he sees light filtering through the stab marks left behind by Sevika. 

He holds a hand up for Powder to wait, crawling forward with the match. Ekko peers through one of the holes. 

There are two thugs guarding the room, but they’re facing away from the vents. Sevika must not think they’re coming back. Ekko watches for a few more moments to make sure there’s no one else, but he sees and hears nothing besides muffled shouting from outside. 

He creeps ahead to the open vent. Strikes the match ablaze, and peeks out only long enough to throw it into the nearest vat. 

Heat surges across his face as the Shimmer ignites in an instant. It blinds him, stings, and Ekko yelps before he scrambles backwards. The thugs yell in alarm as the arson does its job. 

Powder pulls on his ankles to get him away. One vat is burning. That’s enough. Silco’s goons won’t risk the others being destroyed. 

Unfortunately, there’s a side-effect they aren’t counting on; the fumes waft into the vents. Ekko’s already gotten a face-full of it and he feels dizzy, coughing as his body sways. He pulls his bandanna up to match Powder, but it’s already too late.

All he can do is crawl after Powder, who never goes too far ahead. She glances back every couple of seconds to make sure he’s still with her. 

They get to the exit point on the roof of the building and thankfully, no one’s around. Ekko stands and staggers. Powder gasps, but manages to catch him before he can collapse. 

His vision is swimming, purple and warped. 

“Shimmer’s in me,” he chokes out in a daze. 

Powder’s blue eyes are huge, but he can’t tell if that’s because he got a face-full of Shimmer or if she’s actually that scared. He can believe both. He feels pretty scared.

Going to ground level is suicide. He can hear Sevika’s furious calls as thugs work on getting the Shimmer storage cleared while others hunt for them. She’ll kill them on-sight. 

Powder pulls one of his arms over her shoulders and Ekko can only follow as she leads him along. His brain isn’t making a lot of sense. 

They find a pipe (always the pipes, he thinks) and Powder leads him inside. It’s kind of a slide for the angle. Ekko’s a little tempted to cheer as they go down. A stupid grin forms on his face beneath the bandanna. 

He giggles and Powder’s eyes whip towards him, confused. 

“That was fun.”

“Shh,” she hisses back. 

She leads him through the darkness of the pipes, occasionally using a makeshift light they’ve created with some of the fungi from the mineshaft. The clicks that make it glow are annoying after a while, but it’s better than wasting matches all the time. 

Powder slowly relaxes. “I think we’re good.”

“We’re great,” Ekko replies happily.

“No, you are high.”

“Nuh-uh, we’re underground. That means we’re low, silly.”

Powder snorts. Ekko’s smile widens. “Made you laugh.”

He giggles and then she giggles and yeah, he’s definitely high. 

“Where’re we going?”

“Away from Sevika.”

“She was mean.”

“Yep. Which is why we’re going away from wherever she is.”

“You’re so smart, Powder,” Ekko tells her. “Powder, Powder, Powder. Pow-Pow.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

“You’re such a dork,” she laughs, incredulous. Ekko is happy to go wherever she leads him. 

They walk for a while. Powder isn’t familiar with this particular pipeline, but it’s empty. It has to open up somewhere.  

Ekko is still woozy though, so she decides to stop for a bit. He’s not exactly high anymore, but the Shimmer is lingering in his system. She had no idea just the fumes would have that sort of effect. Something to remember in the future.

Powder gives him some water to try and flush his system. She sees this sort of thing all the time.

They live in the Lanes. Chemicals are in the water, the sky is full of smog, no grass grows. All is right in the world.

Ekko’s pupils are huge. The warm, rich honey-browns have been sucked into pitch-black pools. He stares at her for a while in the dim light of their glow fungus tool. 

“Powder?”

The uncertainty in his voice doesn’t surprise her, either. They’ve both seen the effects of Shimmer overdoses. Ekko’s never taken it, but that’s probably exactly why it’s messing with him so much.

“I’m here,” she squeezes his shoulder and lifts her other hand to his face when he sways again. 

“Don’t feel good,” Ekko slurs. 

He’s shivering and suddenly retches, curling in on himself. Powder blanches. “Oh. Oh, ok–”

She barely steps to his side when Ekko throws up. Powder keeps him from falling as he empties what little is left in his stomach. She grimaces at the smell, but at least he’s getting the drug out of his body. 

Ekko moans piteously. He spits up bile, hands leaning on his knees as Powder rubs his back. “It’s ok. You’re ok.”

“Sucks,” he chokes. 

“I know. Just–just hang in there.”

It takes a few minutes before he’s steady again. Powder leads him away from the mess in the pipes and further on. Eventually, she sees literal light at the end of the tunnel. Relief fills her. 

“Almost out, Little Man.”

They’re quiet as they reach the exit. Powder peers around the corners warily, but her caution vanishes as something else catches her eye. 

Ekko blinks. “...Am I still high?”

“Uh. No. I see…” Powder’s mouth falls open. “Is–is that real?”

It’s a tree. An actual green tree.

They’re in what might have once been a mining pit. It’s clearly been abandoned for a long time, though; long enough that a freaking tree has found a way to grow that big. There’s even open sky above them. The moon gleams, a great pearl overhead.

Powder looks around. The pit is empty, but there are rocky overhangs, ledges, a few small caves…

“Ekko, this is it,” she breathes. “This is–it’s perfect! We can live here! There’s no way anyone else has found this place or people would be all over it!”

Powder steps away from him and Ekko keeps his footing–enough of the Shimmer has worked its way out of him, she thinks with relief–as she takes in the pit with excited eyes. “We can cover some of the cave entrances with scrap metal, fill them up with food and–and the sky’s clear, we can make rain-catchers! If the air’s clean enough, maybe we can even sneak Topside and get seeds for more plants, grow our own food–”

Her mind is a whirlwind, already deciding on what they can do with every little space. There’s so much room! So many possibilities! And if the smog never fills this place up enough to poison the air and water and kill the plants–and it can’t or otherwise the tree would never have made it–then…then this could be a sanctuary from all the dangers in Silco’s territory.

“We’ll have to backtrack all the pipes, make sure no one else can get here,” Powder’s eyes narrow. “No one else has found it, so we gotta keep it that way…What if we–”

Ekko has, at some point, stumbled past her to sit on a concrete ledge beneath the tree. He’s just watching her now.

“Oh shit, are you ok?” Powder mentally slaps herself. She’s gotten so worked up and she didn’t even ask if he needed–

“I’m good,” his reply is a grin. He looks more like himself. “Keep going.”

She squints suspiciously. “Are you messing with me?”

“No, I’m serious! Tell me everything. I wanna hear it all.”

She doesn’t talk about her ideas much because nobody has ever really had the patience for them. 

Vander had been the best at it, but he was always busy and even he had trouble keeping up with her ideas. Vi and Claggor would humor her for a bit before they were off doing something else. Mylo always said ‘shut up, they’ll never work anyway’. 

Ekko sits and waits with an eager shine in his eyes for her to talk. And if there’s one thing Powder knows about Ekko, it’s that he’s earnest to a fault.

Hesitantly, she grins back. “Ok.”

She goes on a tangent about how they could rig up traps and early warning systems in the tunnels. Ekko sometimes chimes in, but he largely lets her talk. She can see the gears in his head turning. It’s in the way his eyes narrow and shift, probably running the calculations as she throws out ideas. 

“We could set up scrap barriers in the tunnels we don’t want people coming in through,” she suggests. “Maybe run an electric current through the steel so anyone who tries will think twice…but it means we won’t be able to touch it unless we cut the power–”

“No, we can line our side of the blockade with insulation,” Ekko interjects. “Or we can use gloves? There’s that um…oh gosh, the–the warehouse in the western fissures that gets all those rubber shipments in, remember?”

“Oh yeah!” Powder glows, then frowns. “But we need a power source for any of this to work, though…Can we make a Chemtech rig strong enough for that? I guess we could build separate generators for everything, but keeping them all running will be a chore.”

Ekko tilts his head. “What if…you know those old golems in the deeper mines?”

“Most of them have been stripped of anything useful. Besides, we’d never get one of them up here. They’re just hunks of scrap.”

“We don’t need the entire thing, just the power system.”

“It’s designed for Piltie fuel, not…” Powder falters as she makes the connection and gets excited again. “Like your bike!”

“Yeah, we can rig up the power system in the golems for Chemtech instead.”

And those are big, but she’s pretty sure they can break it down into smaller components to make moving them easier. They probably won’t even need all of it, just some of the tanks and wiring systems. Most everything else they can scrap together from the junk heap. Then it’s just a matter of getting the chemicals they need for the reaction to take place and BOOM! Power!

“That could work,” Powder fidgets as she thinks. 

Her belly grumbles. Loudly. Her cheeks light up. 

“I think we should eat,” Ekko grins, teasing. “Let’s find our way out of here and get back home. We’ll mark the tunnels as we go so we can find it again. I don’t think my brain’s back to normal yet.”

“You think I’ll forget how to get here?” Powder’s challenge is playful.

“You lose your hair bands all the time when you put them on your wrist.”

“Jerk,” she elbows him as he gets back up. Ekko snickers.

They talk in hushed whispers all the way back to the safehouse, too excited to let go of the subject. The prospect of a new home fills them with energy they’ve not felt for months. 

Ekko is still worn out, though. No matter how excited he is, the Shimmer getting flushed from his system after the adrenaline crash has drained him a lot. 

He’s content to listen to Powder chatter about her ideas when they sit down to eat. She can barely stop talking even with her mouth full. He’s kind of afraid she’s going to choke, but he can’t bring himself to stop her. She’s got a gleam in her eyes he hasn’t seen in…too long. She looks happy. 

He’s tried so, so hard to make her happy ever since their world flipped upside down. She smiles, sometimes she laughs, but this–this is what he’s been aiming for. Blue eyes shining as she chatters and theorizes, ideas flashing through her head and tumbling out of her mouth as quickly as they come. 

“Tell me more,” he asks. He says it every time she pauses to glance at him, as if expecting him to tell her he’s had enough for today. That he’s tired and wants to sleep. 

He’s tired, yes. He kind of wants to sleep (a lot). 

But he wants to hear her talk more about her ideas. She beams and keeps going. 

He winds up listening to her for what’s probably hours. Ekko isn’t sure. He’s wiped out by the time Powder falters and yawns. 

“Tell me more?”

“Think I gotta sleep on it,” she mumbles, blinking heavily. She opens her mouth again and instead of words, another yawn almost cracks her jaw. Her yawning has Ekko yawning.

Powder says something he doesn’t really register and Ekko only blinks before he feels her tugging at his wrist. When did she leave her seat at the table?

She pulls him to bed and he’s out just seconds after his head hits the squished, half-stuffed pillow.

He’s woken by something ringing in his ears. Ekko groans and lifts his head, not really sure what plane of reality he’s in. Powder whines and pushes herself up. Complete darkness slowly gains light.

His eyes trail to the source of the noise and he finds himself staring at the pipe coming into the house through a hole in the wall. The bell attached to it is trembling, ringing loudly. The glow-fungi respond, dimly illuminating the room.

“What’s…” 

The bell, his mind tells him. The bell is ringing. Why is the–

Ekko’s exhaustion fades the second he looks at Powder and registers the blood draining from her face. 

Someone has triggered their trap. Someone is in the tunnels. 

They hurl themselves from the bed and scramble around the room. They’ve got emergency packs always ready in case they need them. Powder snatches her gun from under the bed and stuffs the bullet boxes into her bag as Ekko shoves his feet into his shoes. 

They already have a plan; go further into the tunnels. There’s a few passages that lead outside. Their larder is safe, hidden separately from the main house in a half-collapsed tunnel deeper in–

The bell goes off again, but not the first one. It’s the other pipe, coming in from the deeper tunnels and their escape route. Which means they’re trapped on both sides. 

Ekko’s heart pounds, but they have a plan for this too. He scurries to the table and lifts a few boards up beneath it. There’s not a lot of space, but the natural depression in the rock below is big enough to hide them, along with their bags. 

Powder snatches the Enforcer masks as Ekko grabs a few other essentials, then they dive beneath the boards and close it up, plunging them into darkness. 

Only the sound of their breaths fill the tiny space, and even that is muffled. Powder hands him a mask and Ekko keeps it in his lap. There’s barely room to sit up down here, and their legs are tangled together. It’s a tight space, definitely uncomfortable, but the fear and adrenaline don’t let him focus on that. 

Ekko clutches his pipe. Powder’s got the gun aimed for the boards above them. 

Silence stretches long and thick. Minutes go by. 

Then they hear the voices. Mutters outside, none that he recognizes at first, but Ekko can tell there are several people. 

The door opens. Powder takes a shaking breath and he covers her mouth with his hand, biting his lip to keep quiet. 

Boots on the wood floor. Slow. Unhurried. And then…

“You never were very good at planning.”

Ekko’s spine crawls. 

It’s Silco. Silco is in the room above them, just feet away. 

Heavier steps follow in after him. Fear spikes again as he recognizes Sevika’s voice next. 

“You were the planner, not us,” she grunts. “Though I’ve gotta wonder: if you knew Vander had this place lined up for them, why didn’t you just send us to finish the brats off?”

“They weren’t that significant of a concern,” Silco dismisses, walking slowly past the table towards the back wall. “There was every chance the Undercity would do the job for us, eventually. We had more important things to focus on.”

“They damaged our shipment.”

“Which is why we are here now,” he replies patiently. “I suspected they’d be at one of these safehouses, but giving your enemy the illusion of safety can be enough to win a battle before it gets out of hand. So long as I was aware of where they might be hiding, I could reach out and destroy them if they ever dared to interfere with us.”

Sevika says nothing to that. Ekko is mentally slapping himself. He had no proof that Vander had a list like Benzo did, but he’d known Vander had at least written with him. Which meant they’d likely shared the safehouse locations. And if Silco had found the information in The Last Drop…

They’d just found a new place, one Silco couldn’t know about, but it was too little, too late. 

Silco walks to the table and pauses there. Ekko hears the crinkling of paper. He wonders if the man has picked up Vander’s letter. He and Powder have kept it, not really willing to discard that pitiful little remnant they have of their foster father. 

He does not dare to hope Vander’s words will change the Kingpin’s mind. 

Sevika shifts. There are more footsteps in the house now; more of Silco’s goons, he bets. Too many to fight. If they find him and Powder now, they’re both dead. 

He hears paper crinkle again, a faint noise. Silco sighs. 

“Too late, brother. Far too late,” he falls silent for a few moments. “Perhaps in another life, but for this one…We are well past the point of no return.”

He sounds wistful and bitter. Ekko hears Silco’s boots moving from the table to the door. 

“Destroy it.”

Sevika whistles and the next thing he knows, the table shatters above them. Ekko and Powder flinch and he squeezes his eyes shut as Sevika and the goons tear their home apart. They can do nothing. Trying to fight back now is suicide. 

Months of work is obliterated. He hears a crack, a splash, and droplets come down through the floorboards and drizzle onto them. There goes the barrels of clean drinking water. At least the larder is safe…maybe. If they’ve come in from both sides, it’s possible they’ve found that, too. 

Ekko feels bitter tears slide down Powder’s cheeks to where his hand is covering her mouth. He silently cries with her. They just needed one day to get their valuables to the tree…

Finally, the destruction above them quiets down. A boot kicks something broken and that seems to be it. 

“They won’t be staying here again,” Sevika’s voice is satisfied. Ekko hears the gears of her prosthetic whirring. “Too bad they weren’t around.”

“We’ll check the other locations,” Silco tells her. “Without their supplies, Winter will take them. But on the off-chance they survive the colder months, they are to be dispatched on-sight. We can’t have rogues damaging the Shimmer supply line.”

He’s stepped back inside now that his goons have done their work. Silco nudges aside a broken table leg and places his foot right on top of the boards hiding Ekko and Powder. 

Neither of them dare to breathe. Does he know about this last hiding place?

“It’s a shame,” Silco sighs. “We first dreamt of Zaun in this room.”

He steps away, back towards the door. Ekko lets out a long, slow breath through his nose. 

“Burn it down.”

Ekko stares at Powder. His own horror is reflected in her eyes. 

He hears a match light and it’s the most awful sound he can imagine. For a moment, the fire hisses as boots shuffle next to the crate of candles. 

Powder’s breath is fast and heavy through her nose. She’s panicking. So is he. Both children are wracking with terror. 

“Spread it out,” Sevika orders. “Help it along.”

Boots step around the room. Slowly, the crackle of fire grows louder. A candle thumps on the floor somewhere close by and Ekko flinches. The goons filter out of the safehouse and the door shuts. 

Powder rips her face away from Ekko’s hand as she gasps. “We–we gotta get out–”

“They’re just outside,” he shoots the idea down, thinking as fast as he can. 

“Ekko?” Powder whimpers. The fire is getting louder. The air is growing hotter. Smoke begins to roil and sting his nostrils–

“Masks,” Ekko shoves the Enforcer mask into her hands. “Put it on, the smoke won’t–”

Powder scrambles to mirror him as he shoves his own mask onto his face, pulling it tight so no air gets in besides what makes it through the filter. Ekko’s breaths are fast and heavy. 

“We can’t stay here.”

“They’ll kill us if they see us!” Ekko hisses. “We’ll be okay, we just–we’ll wait it out–”

“They’re gonna burn us alive!”

They’re already sweating. The fire burns quickly on the dry wood. The crackle has become a roar. 

They’re trapped. Ekko doesn’t know how they can get out of this. Can he save them both? He isn’t sure. Eventually the house is going to fall apart, or the flames are going to start cooking them in this tight little space.

Wait.

Ekko throws the floorboards open. “Stay here!”

He darts out to the water barrels, stepping around flames licking across the floor and the walls as they climb towards the ceiling. The door is ablaze, 

The barrels are ruined, but there’s some water still leaking from the holes and cracks. It’ll have to do. 

Ekko rolls one towards the open floorboards where Powder is peeking out and tilts the barrel so water begins to flood inside, drenching her. She yelps. “What the hell are you–!”

Ekko dives back in, ripping his bag from his back. “Take your pack off!”

Powder does so even as the question comes out. “Why?”

“Sorry.”

Ekko shoves her onto her back, both packs covering her, and keeps her down with his body. The water pours down his back, along their bags, and pools beneath her. 

“Ekko?!”

“You’re gonna be okay,” he tells her, trying to swallow his terror. 

“No,” Powder’s voice drops. He can’t see her eyes through the mask, but she’s shaking her head. “NO NO NO NO! Let me up, Ekko!”

He can’t. The water will protect him to a degree, but she’s safest there, with the cool rock at her back, the water pooling beneath her farthest from the fire, and the bags and his body between her and the heat. 

Something heavy falls with a loud thud and the crackling of flame and ash. Powder shrieks, trying to squirm free. “EKKO GET OFF!”

“You’re gonna be okay,” he tells her again. He won’t let her leave. He weighs her down with the bags, keeps one arm over the back of his neck while the other stretches above her head to guard her from any debris. 

The heat stings his back, even through the water soaking his shirt and jacket, and Ekko whimpers as it begins to sear. The inferno is roaring, a low rumble like an angry beast. Smoke roils and cannot choke them with the masks, but the flames are hot enough that even the filtered air is painful to breathe. 

Powder continues struggling and Ekko keeps her down, does the only thing he can to protect her. She screams at him and he can’t let her up no matter how much she pleads and begs. 

Something cracks above them. He hears a low groan. Powder screams. “EKKO!”

Her voice is the last thing he hears before something heavy and hot crashes onto him, and Ekko knows nothing but darkness.

Powder gasps awake. She coughs, shoving at the weight on her chest. Bags, water beneath her, a limp arm–

“Ekko,” she shifts and the way he just slumps to the side makes her flinch. Powder rips the bags away and tears her mask off. The fire above them is dying, but there’s a dim glow; enough so she can see. 

She breathes in fumes, but she doesn’t care. Powder pulls Ekko into her arms. He’s–he’s so limp. She takes his mask off with trembling fingers. 

“Ekko?” Powder sobs. She sets a hand to his cheek, tries to pat him awake. “Ekko? Ekko? Ekko, wake up, you gotta…”

She can’t even tell if he’s breathing. Powder sobs again, almost slapping his face to wake him up. “No. No no no. You can’t leave, you said you wouldn’t leave! Ekko! Please, I need you!”

She chokes and coughs on ash and smoke. The remnants of the fire are low flickers of dark red. “Ekko! Ekko!”

He finally twitches beneath her and Powder cries for relief. A low moan passes from his lips. He’s–he’s not really awake, but he’s alive.

“Breathe, you gotta breathe, don’t stop breathing,” she begs. 

His mouth moves, but all that comes out is a wheeze. Powder gulps.

He’s alive. He’s alive, but…

Think! She lifts a hand and tugs harshly at her hair. The pain jolts her just enough to be coherent, even though she’s still crying. 

She has to get him out of here. He needs to be away from the smoke and ash. He needs water. He needs someplace safe, where he can heal from…

Powder freezes as memory rushes back to her. She remembers watching the beam fall. Most of it had been caught on the boards, hadn’t hit them directly, but a chunk had broken off when it came down and that was what–

She pulls Ekko up so he’s half-lying against her and looks down past his shoulder. The sigh of his scorched skin makes her want to vomit. 

He’s hurt. He needs medicine. 

They don’t have medicine. 

Powder buries her face in his shoulder. “What do I do? You can’t die, you can’t…”

How does she save him?

What would Ekko do? Ekko always has a plan. Step-by-step, one thing at a time. 

What does she need to do right now?

“Tree,” she sobs. “The tree is safe. I–I need to get you to…”

Powder heaves, patting Ekko to try and wake him up some more. He’s too heavy for her to carry alone. 

Ekko does wake up, crying out the second he shifts his back. 

“I know,” Powder does what little she can to comfort him. “I know, but you gotta get up.”

He whimpers. “Pow?”

“You’re hurt. We gotta–we gotta go to the tree. It’s not safe here.”

Ekko blinks heavily. He’s breathing hard, trembling from pain. “Y–you’re ok?”

No, she wants to scream. No, I’m NOT ok. You almost DIED for me and I want to hit you as hard as I can for doing something so stupid.  

“I’m ok. Can you walk?”

“Uh,” he stands with her help, crying again as his clothing tugs at the fused skin. 

Powder grabs one of their canteens from the packs and holds it to his lips. “Drink.”

Ekko obeys. His legs are shaky. She hopes he can make it to the tree. If he can’t, then…

She can’t think about that right now.

She crams as much as she can from his bag into hers and shoulders it. Powder gets her gun out, then takes his arm to bear some of his weight. “Walk with me, ok? One step at a time.”

“Hurts,” Ekko whimpers. 

“I know,” she cries. Powder takes a step. Ekko mirrors her. 

It takes three excruciating hours. 

They slip out of the tunnels and into the pipes, where Powder guides them as close to the pipeline that leads to the tree as she can. They’re only exposed for a short time, but she never puts the gun down. 

Ekko has to stop and rest frequently. Every time his back is strained, searing agony cuts through him from the burns and leaves him gasping for breath through his cries. He manages to drink, keeps himself hydrated, but Powder knows what he really needs is medicine.  

She isn’t sure how serious the damage is. She’s a kid, not a doctor! She has no idea what she’s going to do. 

All she knows for certain is that the burns are bad. His back is a mess, the skin raw and blistered and fused to his burnt clothing in places. He’s in a lot of pain. 

They finally get to the tree and she guides him to a small cave. It’ll keep him out of any bad weather, and it’s tucked away from any breeze that finds its way down here. 

Powder takes her pack, one of their blankets, and arranges things enough that he can lie down. She wraps the blanket around him and Ekko sobs as it rubs against his back. 

“I’m sorry,” she bites her lip to stop herself from crying again, though the tears swell at her eyes. “I know it hurts, but you–you’ve gotta cover it somehow until…”

Where is she going to get medicine? What does she even need for this? Painkillers aren’t enough, though he definitely needs those, too. 

Ekko is fading rapidly back into unconsciousness. He’s tired and hurt and…and Powder knows she can’t ask him. He’s depending on her. The only way he makes it out of this alive is if she gets her shit together and figures it out. 

She makes some space, pulls out her gun, and disassembles it. She has to do something with her hands. Has to focus. 

A doctor would be best. They can’t afford a doctor, not for something this serious. And any healer in the Lanes is a bad idea now. Silco is gunning for them. Maybe he thinks they’re dead, maybe he’s still hunting. She isn’t sure. She can’t risk it; Ekko can barely move, let alone run away. 

Topside is the only other place with doctors. More expensive probably, definitely can’t afford them (if they’d even let Trenchers in to begin with, she thinks bitterly). But their medicine is higher quality. 

And Topside isn’t looking for them. But Ekko won’t make it across the bridge right now. Maybe she needs to focus on medicine first. But she doesn’t know what she needs. 

A doctor would know…

It puts an idea in her head. Powder reassembles her gun. 

Find a doctor. Find out what she needs. Get what she needs. 

The Lanes are too dangerous. She has to go Topside. 

She loads the weapon and shifts to kneel by Ekko. Powder sets a shaking hand on his cheek. He barely stirs. 

“I need you to breathe,” she whispers. “All I need is for you to keep breathing. I’m coming back. I’m going to get something to help. Stay alive. Please stay alive.”

She leaves a canteen next to him. A bag of dried food she kept in her pack. 

Powder slips on her cloak, puts the gun in her holster, and rushes into the pipes. 

“We’ll have plenty of space, won’t we?” 

“For your mess, most certainly,” Viktor comments. He cracks a faint grin as Jayce puts a hand over his heart in mock offense. 

“I am the most organized person in the world!”

“A vast overstatement.”

“Betrayed. By my own partner,” Jayce jokes. He tosses the new key up in the air. “But this is going to work out great! Now we can keep all of our Hextech papers and blueprints secure even outside of the labs.”

“Never let it be said that the Medardas or Kirammans spare an expense for the sake of progress,” Viktor agrees. “Really, the…house is entirely too much space for just the two of us. But I suppose we’ll be filling it up with all sorts of experiments before long, won’t we?”

“Councillor Medarda called it an estate. It’s a lot, but we’re inventing a brand new type of technology. I think it’s ideal for all the possibilities we’ve got. That huge space in the east wing–”

“The ball room,” Viktor corrects. Because that’s something they apparently own now; a ball room. 

“Yeah. It’s perfect if we want to test rudimentary transportation runes. With some…minor adjustments, it’ll be totally secure.”

“Somehow I suspect actual experimentation inside the estate was not what Heimerdinger meant when he said we could use the extra space to ‘expand our minds’, Jayce. We’ve already seen what the Hex Crystals can do in a domestic environment.”

“Right,” Jayce scratches the back of his head, though he’s still smiling. Viktor can’t help but be amused; the man is like a giant puppy. Curious and eager, with one of the biggest hearts he’s seen in Piltover. Except he has a genius level intellect.

“We can discuss how to apply our research across the space when we actually move in,” Viktor says. “For now, it is late, and my bed is calling me.”

“Want me to walk you back?”

“No,” Viktor answers the question the same way he always does (because Jayce asks every single day). He appreciates Jayce, but he also likes his quiet at the end of the day. “But thank you for offering. I shall see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” Jayce offers him a wave, then heads off with his shoulder bag of papers and legal documents. Viktor makes his way in the opposite direction, towards the Academy apartments.

Night has already fallen. They stay up later and later it seems, wrapped up in their research until Heimerdinger all but kicks them out (you must rest properly if you hope to continue your research at peak efficiency!). The Yordle may be skeptical and wary of Hextech, but he has not been outright against it since they proved the working theory. 

Now Heimerdinger’s focus is ensuring the two young researchers do their work safely. Keeping them healthy in body and mind is par for the course. Though, Viktor must admit, that may be the pot calling the kettle black. 

He enjoys the quiet of the night. Piltover is sleepy now, with most of the population turned in to rest. There are some Enforcers out and about, but their focus these days is on the fissures. 

Viktor finds himself gazing across the river as he always does. Perhaps it’s like a homing instinct, reminding him where he comes from. He hasn’t been to the water wheel in a while. It’d be nice to visit again. He could bring Jayce, show him the old haunt. 

Yes, he might just do that. 

He makes his way down the sidewalk, past a carefully-maintained lawn and up to the steps of his apartment door. Viktor is fumbling for the keys in his pocket when he registers a quiet sound behind him. 

Then a gun barrel is pressed to his back. He goes still. Perhaps the Enforcers need to spend more time in Piltover, after all.

“Don’t turn around.”

The first thing that strikes him is that they sound young. Viktor obeys, nonetheless.

“My wallet is in my back pocket,” he tells the thief. “There is not much, but–”

“I don’t want your money. I need medicine.”

There’s desperation in the voice of–a girl, he’s almost certain it’s a girl. But if this child is desperate, he must be even more careful. They might be trigger-happy if they’re scared and feel they have no other choice but to resort to robbery. 

“I am not a medical doctor.”

“You’ve got a cane. You have to know where I can find one.”

…Fair enough. 

“What type of medicine are you looking for?”

“You just said you’re not a healer, why does that matter?”

“So I can tell you which doctor to go to. Are you asking for broken bones, or something else?”

He thinks from her accent that she has to be from the Undercity. He’s almost certain of it. 

“Burns,” she chokes out. She’s distressed. “My friend is–he’s been burned. The house was…”

Viktor runs that through his head. “Alright. Alright, I know where to go.”

“Just tell me–”

“If your plan is to threaten someone again, you’re going to get yourself arrested,” he tells her. “This will be much easier if I take you to the doctor myself.”

“I can’t trust you.”

“How hurt is your friend? If you’re taken in, will he survive without help?”

She says nothing to that. He sighs. 

“I bear you no ill will. I am also from the Undercity.”

“You? Bullshit. You’re trying to trick me.”

“It is no lie. I come from the slums of the southeastern fissures. Near where the old mines used to be before the pipes containing the Grey leaked. Do you know them?”

“...Ok, maybe you’re telling the truth. But I still can’t trust you.”

He’s not surprised. 

“You can run off looking for a doctor to threaten, or I can take you there and we can find what you need without risking your freedom and your friend’s life.”

Viktor can practically hear her thinking. 

“If someone sees you with a gun at my back, this is all for nothing. There won’t be any stopping the Enforcers. Marcus is not like the old Sheriff; he has no empathy for our people.”

She hesitates a moment longer, then the gun pulls away. Viktor only fractionally tilts his head. “May I turn around?”

“Please,” she begs. “He’s going to die if I don’t…”

Viktor risks it. He twists to see his would-be mugger.

She is a child. Twelve, thirteen? He can’t tell, but she’s young. Blue hair covered in ash and tied behind her head in a messy braid. Her clothes are ragged. She smells like smoke. Her eyes are bloodshot.

The gun is in her hand, but it’s pointed at the ground now. 

He should be furious, but she’s so pitiful he can’t muster genuine anger towards her. Beyond that, Viktor knows this kind of desperation. He’s seen it many times before in his youth. It’s raw, helpless, and clawing for life.

“Put it away,” he asks quietly. She obeys, shoving the weapon into a handmade holster, though her fingers remain wrapped around it. 

“Now, your friend. You said he was burned?”

“The house was burned down,” her lower lip wobbles. He can see tear-trails on her cheeks in the light of the nearby lanterns. “He–he tried to keep me safe, he…”

“Can you get him to a doctor?”

“No. He can’t…”

Bad, then. 

Viktor takes a step around her towards the sidewalk. She shifts her weight, still holding the gun at her hip. “Come along. We’ll ask a healer and get what you need.”

“Please don’t turn me in, I–I’m sorry, I can’t mess up, he needs my help or he’s gonna die–”

“I’m not going to turn you in,” he tells her softly. The best thing he can do now is lower the agitation. Keep the odds of her pulling that gun out low. “But if your friend is hurt, we must be quick, yes?”

She nods miserably. Viktor sees the fingers still lingering at her weapon, but she seems a little less volatile now. “Tell me what happened, and what sort of state your friend is in. The doctors will need to know everything you can give them…”

Piltover has a twenty-four hour hospital. Most small clinics are closed by now, but the major medical center never closes. 

Viktor leads his…companion inside. She’s shifty, tucking the gun and holster beneath her cloak to conceal it. But he’s always aware of her twitchy fingers. 

It’s a short wait, but the seconds stretch on with the frightened, agitated girl beside him. She hasn’t given him her name–doesn’t trust him not to give it to the Enforcers, he suspects. He can’t really blame her for that, not with Marcus in charge of the organization. 

They’re eventually called in to see one of the doctors. He’s older than Viktor, though not terribly so. The pink hair has not yet been touched with gray. 

He seems confused at first. “I was told there was a burn injury?”

“Her friend,” Viktor fills him in. “Their house burnt down in the Undercity. He was struck by debris and suffered burns to his back. We need medicine to treat him.”

A skeptical eyebrow rises as he regards the girl, who fidgets in place. “You didn’t bring him?”

“He can’t walk all the way up here,” she retorts.

“There are healers in the Undercity. Why don’t you take him there?”

“I can’t pay them, I don’t…It’s just the two of us.”

“I see. How old is your friend?”

“He’s fourteen.”

The doctor’s second eyebrow joins the first high on his head. “No adults?”

She shakes her head. 

Viktor wasn’t terribly surprised when he got that information on the way over. The girl’s desperate enough to attempt a robbery Topside because there is simply no one else for her to turn to. Even a rat will fight for its life when there is no other choice.

The doctor seems a little suspicious. “Tell me about his injuries.”

She does. Repeats what she’s told Viktor; the burns, the clothing fused to his skin, the blisters…the detail is gruesome. His suspicion fades the more she recalls. 

“He can’t move without his clothes pulling on the burns,” she swallows. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what he needs.”

“What would you recommend?” Viktor queries.

“That he be brought here.”

She squeezes her eyes shut. She sounds frustrated. “I can’t pay you.”

“We’re a hospital, not a market. We’ll sort something out. But if it’s as bad as you think it is, he needs surgery.”

The girl pales, her already gaunt face turning bloodless. “You don’t think he’ll get better with just medicine?”

The doctor sighs. “I can give you painkillers and a gel to soothe him. But what you’re telling me sounds like second or even third degree burns. He needs surgery to separate the clothing fused to his skin. Possibly skin grafts depending on how serious it is.”

She looks faint. 

“He won’t make it Topside,” she chokes out. 

“Then someone is going to have to go get him.”

Her lower lip wobbles and she starts crying. Shoves her palms over her eyes and sobs. Viktor doesn’t touch her; he doesn’t know how she’ll respond to touch. 

The doctor leans over towards him. “Where exactly in the Undercity is he?”

“I’m not sure precisely where. They were in the old mines near the pits when he was injured. All I know for certain is that he’s near the eastern fissures.”

“Unattended, too,” the doctor doesn’t sound very optimistic. 

“Shut up,” she chokes out. “Shut up, Mylo. I don’t need you right now, I don’t…”

Viktor blinks at her, but she’s mumbling to herself. The doctor beside him is regarding her with a slight frown. 

“I might be able to get someone there,” Viktor says. “Could you give us the painkillers and gel now? Something to make the transfer easier on him?”

“I can do that.”

The doctor steps out of the office for a few minutes, leaving Viktor with the girl. He murmurs quietly, doing what he can to help her calm down. She’s in the midst of what he suspects is an anxiety attack, though the way she’s talking to herself…

He does not have enough psychiatric knowledge to speculate on that.

The doctor comes back with a bag and crouches in front of her, pressing the medicine into her hands. “Can you listen to me?”

Large, round tears roll down her eyes. She’s hiccuping with every breath. 

“I don’t know how much your friend weighs. Give him two of these every six hours with something to eat. Keep him hydrated,” he pulls out a bottle of pills and shakes them, eliciting a rattle. “Then this…”

The gel is next. “You’re going to have to lather it on the exposed burns. It is going to hurt. You can wait about thirty minutes for the painkillers to kick in, but the burns will be sensitive. Get him up here or have someone help him get here.”

She opens her mouth, falters, and finally just nods. “I’ll try. Maybe…”

Her fingers clench around the bag like a lifeline. It very well could be, Viktor muses. 

“The sooner the better,” the doctor urges. 

“Ok.”

He leads them out of the room. Viktor asks for his card so they can reach him again when the boy is brought in.

The girl clutches the bag to her chest. Viktor walks her outside and he’s sure she’s about to run for the Undercity as fast as she can. He halts her with a word. 

“Do you know the water wheel in the upper levels? By the northeastern bridge, near Midtown?”

She stares at him. “Yeah…”

“I will bring my friend there in the morning. He is big enough to carry your friend. Do you think you could get him there?”

He can see the suspicion in her eyes, but maybe she’s too scared to care. 

“I can try. Um. If not, I’ll…I’ll meet you there. I’ll take you to him.”

“Very well.”

She hesitates. Viktor nods towards the bridge. “More words can wait, don’t you think? You must hurry.”

She snaps her mouth shut. Then: 

“My name is Powder.”

And she runs off in a flash.

Powder is gasping for breath by the time she gets to the tree, but she hasn’t stopped running since she left Viktor at the hospital. 

She staggers to the cave, clutching the medicine bag to her chest and hoping, praying to Janna and any gods who might be listening that she’s not too late…

Ekko hasn’t moved. The canteen sits untouched, and the food. She drops to her knees beside him and reaches for his face, patting at his cheeks. “Hey, Ekko? You’re–you’re breathing, right? Please tell me you’re–”

He gasps, twitches and cries out. Powder jolts as he wakes up, staring at her with hazy, already tear-filled eyes. 

“It’s ok! It’s ok,” she gulps and pulls out the pills in a hurry. “I brought medicine…”

She takes out two pills and grabs the canteen. “You need to eat these. Painkillers, ok?”

Ekko blinks and slowly reaches for them, but moving his arm tugs on his jacket and he whimpers. Powder kneels closer and lifts the pills to his mouth. “I’ll do it, just–just swallow.”

She tips the medicine between his lips, then lifts the canteen for him to drink. Ekko gulps a few times, then takes a gasping breath when she pulls the water back. 

She feeds him next. He can’t stomach much, but something has to go into his belly. It’s…not great. Better than nothing, just barely.

Powder takes his stopwatch and sets a timer. “I’m gonna put a gel on your back when the painkillers kick in, ok? I need you to rest. We’re gonna move out in the morning.”

“Where?” Ekko wheezes. 

“Doctor.”

“Huh. ‘Kay.”

“Look at me,” Powder tilts his cheek so he’s staring at her. “You are going to live. You are going to make it.”

He just nods exhaustedly. He doesn’t even have the energy to be a smartass, and that terrifies her.  

Eventually the timer goes off. Powder carefully shifts him so he’s lying on their bags with his back up. The mess of burns is awful to look at. The idea of touching them makes her feel ill. 

She sticks her fingers in the gel. It’s thick and cold to the touch. 

“This might hurt,” she tells him. The doctor seemed to think so anyway, despite the painkillers. 

The second she touches the burns with the gel, Ekko gasps and jolts. Powder watches the burns clench with his back muscles and he whimpers. She lowers her hand (the one without gel) and takes his, squeezing tight. 

“Try not to move.”

“Hurts.”

“I know,” Powder bites her lip and tries not to cry. She’s so tired of crying. 

It’s an ugly job. Ekko fights the urge to shrink away from the cold gel on his sensitive burns, but sometimes he just can’t help it and the pain gets the better of him. Powder does her best. She coats the burns all up and down his back, especially where the skin is fused to his clothing. That brings Ekko a little relief, in time. 

When she’s done, Powder is bone-tired. She wipes her hands clean of the gel and curls up next to Ekko. Sets the stopwatch for a few hours ahead, for morning. 

Ekko is still holding her hand. He squeezes weakly. “Don’t let me go.”

“Never,” she whispers fiercely. 

Viktor is at Jayce’s apartment first thing in the morning, rapping at his door with his cane. He did not sleep after his encounter last night. It’s been weighing on his mind. 

His friend is an early riser, though even he is surprised to see Viktor at his door. Usually they meet up on the way to the lab, or at the Academy if one of them is running late. 

“I need your help.”

Viktor does not tell Jayce all the details on their way to the water wheel. He doesn’t mention that Powder held him at gunpoint for a bit, but he says that the girl had come to him asking for help. 

His friend is curious more so than anything, and concerned. “How’d she know you were from the Undercity?”

“My accent,” Viktor lies. “But their situation is…difficult. I’m not certain the boy made it through the night.”

“No parents?”

“No. It’s not uncommon where I come from, but that she was desperate enough to venture to Piltover is not encouraging.”

“Why wouldn’t she come here? Piltover has some of the best medical care in the world.”

“It’s a matter of trust, my friend. Children who have no one to rely on but themselves do not trust easily. Even those who come from the same place they do.”

Jayce tilts his head. He doesn’t seem to fully understand, but he accepts the answer. It’s all Viktor asks. 

He’s become invested in this situation. Powder was…a reminder of where Viktor comes from. He remembers what he told himself day after day when he first came to Piltover; that his studies and what he achieved would be used to help his fellow man in the Undercity one day. That he would do all in his power to make life better. 

Maybe that’s slipped from him a bit. He and Jayce wish to change the world with Hextech, to bring it to the common man, but perhaps his goal has changed trajectory without his realizing. 

Maybe he can start with this. Start by helping a couple of kids. Get them some medicine and…

He doesn’t know what he’ll do after that. One thing at a time. Get the boy to the hospital first.

They’re almost at the water wheel when Viktor hears gunshots. 

Jayce flinches. “Ok, we shouldn’t–”

Viktor hurries onward, remembers Powder’s gun with concern flooding through him. She’d been rational enough to put it away, so what’s driven her to shoot?

“Viktor! It’s dangerous! Let’s at least get the Enforcers–”

A child screams and Viktor moves as fast as his damned leg will allow. Jayce can do nothing but follow.

Moving Ekko is not easy. He’s still hurting and the painkillers help, but he seems to be getting weaker by the hour. If Powder’s going to move him, it has to be now. 

He takes the next dose of medicine and then she heaves him to his feet. It’s a shorter walk than yesterday, but still a hard one. 

They get to the water wheel Viktor told her about and she settles Ekko against the wall with a blanket around him. Powder helps him stay sitting up by leaning him against her pack. 

She presses a hand to her forehead. All she can do now is trust that Viktor will actually bring help. She’s got nothing left; Ekko won’t make it all the way to Piltover on-foot and Powder isn’t strong enough to carry him. 

She hates how weak her body is. 

So they wait. 

Someone eventually does arrive, but it’s not Viktor. Powder hears snuffling and jerks her head up, looking further downstream. 

Feral dogs are sniffing, heads rising and falling as they crane their necks towards the children–

She scowls viciously. They can smell Ekko’s wounds, know he’s nearly dead–

Powder grabs a steel pipe leaning against the wall and slams it into the brick. “Piss off, mutts!”  

They grumble and growl; there’s four of them, and they’re all pretty big. The noise makes them jerk, but they don’t retreat very far. Powder snatches the gun from her hip, ready to take a shot if she needs to. Like hell she’s going to leave Ekko to be eaten by these–

The dogs suddenly freeze, sniffing, and then turn to flee. Powder stares as they run. 

A prickle rises along her neck. The hairs on her arms stand on end, and she knows she is not alone. 

Powder turns slowly, eyes peeled, and–

There’s–there’s a creature standing across the water, looking at Ekko. She’s not sure–a Vastaya? Not like any she’s ever seen. Its fur is white like snow, devoid of any sort of clothing save a black…mask. 

There’s an intricate bow in its hands. She sees no quiver. No arrows. 

But Powder’s breath freezes in her chest. It spares her a glance. The eyes are shining, blueish-white. There’s something terribly wrong about it.  

And she knows that wolf-shaped mask. The Undercity largely worships Janna, but all sorts of folks pass through, and the Kindred are widespread throughout the world. 

The Lamb’s gaze turns back to Ekko. Waiting. Patient as death. 

Powder finds the fury to scowl and forces her legs to move. She storms between them, breaking Lamb’s line of sight. 

“No,” she spits. “You can’t have him. You–no, you’re not even real! This is just…my stupid brain being all screwed up again. You’re not real. You’re not…”

She hears the clicking of teeth. A growl. Powder spins, gun rising as a black mass–she thinks it’s one of the feral dogs, it’s about the same size–rushes from a pipe in the wall. 

She pulls the trigger and hears a yelp before it bowls her over. She crashes to the ground and the gun is knocked from her hand by the impact. Powder flails the pipe in her hand and hits something, but it tumbles off into the water. She scrambles back to her feet. 

For a second, it’s a rat with purple veins, gigantic and ugly and bleeding from a bullet hole in its leg. 

She blinks and it’s a black beast with a white lamb’s mask, the Wolf to match the other half of the Kindred. 

Lamb waits for Ekko to surrender to her embrace. 

Wolf gnashes his teeth, snarls with delight as Powder refuses, and lunges at her. 

She scrabbles for the gun as Wolf charges out of the water, manages to get another shot off before the beast is on her. His maw is a glowing blue-white void the same as his eyes. 

He roars in pain as the bullet takes him in the belly, but there’s joy to his savage agony. It fills her with dread and horror. 

Wolf slams into her again, teeth biting as Powder strikes him with the pipe in her other hand. She tries to shoot, but his paw swipes and bats the weapon away into the water. Shrieking, she hits him in the head with the pipe again. 

He recoils and she spins on the ground, kicking him hard enough so he trips and half-stumbles into the stream. Powder gets back on her feet and spares Lamb a glance. 

The patient half of the Kindred continues to watch Ekko. Protective fury surges through her and she snatches a piece of scrap from the ground, throws it at the Lamb with all she has. 

It simply passes through her. She doesn’t even look at Powder. 

Wolf is back on his feet in a flash while Powder is dumbfounded. 

Powder whirls back towards him and swings the pipe, smashes it into his jaw. Wolf growls and jumps at her again, barely fazed. She dives to the side to avoid him, but slips and loses her footing. 

Wolf spins on a dime and charges. Powder barely gets the pipe up in time as his jaws snap at her throat. 

His teeth catch on the metal. Claws scratch and scrabble at her clothes and cut into her belly. Powder yells, kicks, tries to push him off, but he’s bigger and heavier–

He adjusts his jaws, bites again, and his teeth slice right through the middle finger on her left hand. 

Powder screams. 

Blood soaks the pipe in an instant. Wolf presses down, snarling with laughter, savoring the kill to come. His claws keep tearing at her flesh. His teeth snap, again and again. Powder keeps kicking, keeps trying to fight him off–

Wolf’s gaze shifts to the side.

There’s a blur of motion, a crack–

Wolf disappears in the blink of an eye. In his place is a huge mutant of a rat. Blood bursts from the creature’s mouth and eye as a steel rod–a cane– shatters its skull and hurls it off of Powder with a single, brutal swing. 

The pipe slips from her grasp. She stares at her hand, trying to comprehend the blood pouring down her– where is her finger?

There’s a man crouching over her, wide-eyed. It’s not Viktor, but she thinks that’s Viktor’s cane. 

He glances at Ekko. She tilts her head, looks for Lamb, but the Kindred is gone. 

The next thing Powder knows, she’s being picked up. The man stands, moves and crouches again–

She looks across his shoulder and sees Ekko. He’s unconscious, unmoving. She can’t tell if he’s still breathing. Did Lamb claim him?

“Ekko,” she sobs, tries to reach for him. 

Powder’s vision flickers as agony surges through her hand and she slips into darkness a second later.

Chapter Text

Act I, Part III: Lost Kids

Viktor’s panting by the time he finally gets to the hospital. He’d told Jayce to just run the kids to the medical center ahead of him; the boy wasn’t even conscious when they arrived and Powder had just been mauled by—whatever the hell that thing was. 

Jayce had killed it, at least.

He asks an attendant at the front where his partner has gone and is guided to a waiting room connected to the ICU wing. By the time he finds Jayce, he’s managed to catch his breath. 

Jayce is talking with a doctor, seemingly giving information by the way the woman is scribbling on a clipboard. He looks up as Viktor calls him.

His partner has removed his vest, now standing in his undershirt. The vest itself is clenched in Jayce’s hand and soaked in Powder’s blood. 

“They’re in surgery,” Jayce tells him when Viktor hobbles over. 

“Both of them?”

“What’s left of the girl’s finger needs to be cleaned and trimmed,” the doctor says. “Her procedure won’t take long. The boy will take at least an hour.”

“How bad is it?”

“We think they’ll make it. The girl’s injuries are serious. First degree burns, animal scratches on her torso, and the lost finger. She’s in rough shape, but we’re confident she can recover from those. 

“The boy’s situation is…more delicate. Widespread first and second degree burns across his back and some fractures from what we think is blunt force trauma; the burns are concealing any obvious bruising. He’s lucky his back wasn’t broken by whatever struck him. They’re both malnourished and dehydrated. We haven’t gotten all the tests back yet, but I’d wager their vitamin and mineral levels are low on several counts.”

She glances up at him. “Mr. Talis has been giving me what information he can. He says you know a little more?”

“Only about the girl,” Viktor admits. “I’m afraid my knowledge of the boy is lacking. I don’t know his name, either.”

“His name is Ekko.”

Viktor blinks at Jayce. “How do you…?”

“It took me a minute, but I remember him,” Jayce glances at the doors where Viktor assumes the children were taken for their procedures. “He worked at a shop in the Undercity I went to for research equipment and materials the Academy couldn’t readily provide. I’m sure it’s him. How did he wind up like this?”

“I’ve told you what I know,” he responds. “Powder told me their house was destroyed in a fire. I cannot say with certainty what happened, but the boy–Ekko–was injured during the event. She’s told me there are no adults in their lives.”

Jayce frowns. “I knew Ekko’s…employer? Mr. Benzo. He was right as rain last I saw him.”

“Maybe not anymore,” Viktor says grimly. Something else to ask the children when they wake up. 

“I have a few questions if you might have answers,” the doctor aims at Viktor. 

“Of course. I’ll tell you whatever I can.”

Most of it is just a few details Viktor hasn’t told Jayce, though nothing groundbreaking. It doesn’t change the situation the children have found themselves in. The doctor thanks them quietly and returns to the surgery wing. 

Viktor sits down with Jayce, largely alone in the waiting room. 

“Well,” Jayce holds his bloody vest in his hands. “This was…not how I imagined today going.”

“On that much, we agree.”

His partner shakes his head slowly. “I didn’t know there were…rats that big? Was that thing a rat?”

“I have no idea what that creature was. I grew up in the Undercity, but I’ve never seen anything larger than feral dogs. Certainly never rats anywhere close to such a size.”

“We should see about securing the specimen remains. Heimerdinger might have an idea.”

“Perhaps.”

Jayce lets out a long breath. “At least the kids are alive.”

“There is that. Though what lies ahead will be…complicated.”

“You mean besides their recoveries?”

“This hospital does good work. If they survive, they will heal. After that, I suspect it will not be long before they return to the Undercity.”

Jayce frowns. “But didn’t…Powder?”

“Powder.”

“Didn’t Powder say there weren’t any adults with them? Why would they–”

“Piltover might help them recover Jayce, but I’m under no delusions what will happen afterward. Even if they’re sent to the orphanage, I very much doubt anyone in the city will actually adopt them. Assuming they don’t simply run away, they’ll age out in a few years.”

“You can’t say that for sure. There are good people in Piltover.”

“There are. But few possess the goodwill to take in children from the Undercity. I have seen it many times before.”

Jayce doesn’t seem to know what to say to that. Viktor can’t blame him; for all that his partner is a genius in his pioneering field, he is rather…innocent to the darker parts of Piltover and its Undercity counterpart.

“Let us focus on what must be done now,” Viktor sighs. “They need to heal first and foremost. We will…see what follows.”

They’ve been waiting for about an hour when Mel Medarda shows up, and it’s not long afterwards that things get out of hand. 

Powder’s surgery is over, they’ve been told. She’s still unconscious, but stable and recovering. Not long after that, the clicking of heels alerts them to the Councilwoman’s arrival. 

“When they told me you were in the hospital, I must confess, this is not quite what I expected,” she says. Her assistant Elora is right behind her, as per usual.

“I’m sorry,” Jayce replies. “We weren’t exactly expecting this, either.”

Mel stops with her hands folded in front of her. She opens her mouth when the door she emerged from is thrown open with considerably more force. Viktor’s brow furrows as he sees Marcus enter with four more Enforcers behind him. The Sheriff walks straight to them. 

“Councilwoman Medarda,” he dips his head, then looks at Jayce and Viktor. His eyes contain the slightest bit of distaste for the latter man, though he holds his tongue. “Gentlemen. I understand you’ve brought two children to the hospital?”

“Yes,” Jayce replies. “Actually, you’ve got good timing. There was an animal attack, we could use a retrieval team to get the specimen–”

“I need a description of the children in question,” Marcus interrupts. “I’ve heard some details and I believe you’ve brought in two wanted criminals.”

Viktor feels his stomach churn. Mel’s perfect eyebrows rise. Jayce stares at the man. “Excuse me?”

A doctor–the same pink-haired man who helped Viktor with Powder the night before–approaches them. He’d been the surgeon responsible for the girl’s operation.

“Is this in regards to our patients?”

“Possibly. A description please, Mr. Talis,” Marcus requests in a no-nonsense tone. 

“Uh–the boy has short white hair. Dark skin. Thirteen, fourteen years old? I’m not sure. The girl’s close to the same age, I think. Blue hair, fair skin.”

“We’ll need to see them to be certain, but that sounds like our fugitives,” Marcus nods shortly. “Congratulations, gentlemen. You’ve apprehended a pair of dangerous criminals.”

“Now hold on–” Viktor pushes himself from his chair with his cane.

“We’ll take custody of them–”

“Hang on, they’re just kids!” Jayce interrupts, shifting his weight. 

“And they’re both in intensive care,” the doctor looks at Marcus steadily. “Even if they are who you think they are, the most I can allow is an Enforcer to guard the ICU. We don’t allow anyone besides professional surgeons in there without following strict protocol.”

“They are dangerous,” Marcus warns. “If I have to get a Council’s letter for permission, I will.”

“As someone who sits on the Council,” Mel reminds them of her presence with a soft voice, but they all hear the warning. “I would like to hear some concrete information. One at a time.”

That last bit comes out with a level stare as Marcus and Jayce both open their mouths in unison. 

“Jayce,” she looks down at the bloodied vest in his clenched hand. “Explain how you and Viktor found yourselves here.”

So he does, with Viktor occasionally chiming in when his partner forgets certain details. Mel maintains her collected focus all the while. She raises an eyebrow at the mention of the animal, which Jayce and Viktor admit they can’t explain. 

“You will send several Enforcers to the attack site to retrieve this…creature. I want to know what it is and if there are more of them,” she orders Marcus. He hesitates for only a second before nodding shortly and sending two of his men off with a few words. 

“Councilwoman, I understand that this story paints them as victims,” Marcus says when Jayce finishes. “But–”

“But there are multiple sides to every story, and each one will be considered before any sort of judgment is brought before the Council, of which I am only one part,” she reminds him flatly. “You require our permission to keep armed guards in a hospital, as you should. If we deem the circumstances necessary, of course precautions shall be taken. But you would be wise to remember that being Sheriff does not give you permission to assign your men wherever you so deem fit.”

Marcus shuts his mouth. He hasn’t been Sheriff for long, but Viktor’s heard a few things in the months since the old Sheriff’s death. He’s had big shoes to fill, and it sounds like this is not the first time he’s pulled on his leash. 

“Now,” she faces him fully. “I would hear the facts you can provide regarding these children–if indeed they are who you suspect they are.”

“First and foremost, the girl was one of the suspects who raided Mr. Talis’ lab nearly a year ago. The theft that caused the explosion in the building? She was amongst the four children fleeing the scene.”

Jayce’s mouth falls open and Viktor sucks in a sharp breath. He hadn’t known that. 

To her credit, Mel takes that with only a raised eyebrow. “Go on.”

“They were being harbored by Vander. The Hound of the Undercity. You know that name.”

“One of the Undercity gang leaders who led the Bridge Riots,” Mel confirms. “And who worked behind the scenes for years afterwards to keep peace in the Undercity, if I recall.”

Marcus starts, surprised. Viktor feels much the same. 

Mel barely blinks. “You didn’t think Sheriff Grayson and Vander managed peace between just the two of them, did you? Grayson negotiated for the Council. We were well aware of his involvement in the riots, but he was also the only individual at the time who commanded enough respect to maintain control of the Undercity. 

“He reached out and we answered, so long as he could prevent future riots. But that is besides the point because his criminal history is separate from the history of these children. Back on topic, Sheriff.”

“Yes ma’am,” he collects himself and moves on. “Both of them are also suspected to have been part of a gang fight in a canning factory within the wharf district.”

“Suspect or know?”

“We know they were present,” Marcus’ jaw is tight, but he sticks to facts at Mel’s reminder. “And both of them were later witnessed looting the bodies of Sheriff Grayson and the other slain officers by three of our Enforcers.”

“Hm,” she taps her finger. “Two counts of theft for the girl, one for the boy. Involvement in gang violence, to what degree is uncertain.”

“Do you understand my concerns?”

“I can see where you are coming from,” she allows. Viktor’s heart sinks. Mel looks at the doctor. “And their current medical conditions?”

He gives them the full run down. Ekko is immobile, still in surgery, and Powder has not yet woken from anesthesia, though she’s not being kept under, either.

“It sounds to me that neither of them will be going anywhere of their own volition for some time,” Mel says. “So here is what we are going to do: Marcus, you and your men will come with me to the Council Hall. We will consider the information before making any security changes.”

“Councilor–”

“I do not think I must repeat myself, Sheriff,” her voice gains an edge. “Or do you believe the hospital staff are incapable of handling a pair of sedated children who have just undergone surgeries? I hear they are thieves, but that hardly warrants armed guards in a place of healing.”

Marcus wisely shuts his mouth. Mel gestures to the door. “All of you will be coming with me. Mr. Talis, Mr. Viktor, that includes the both of you. And the Council will require a doctor with their current medical information for further detail.”

“Yes ma’am,” the doctor in question nods. “I’ll speak to our chief, if you would give me a few minutes.”

Viktor exchanges a glance with Jayce, who doesn’t seem to know what to say. Hearing that Powder was involved in the theft and subsequent explosion at his apartment was an unwelcome surprise. 

He doesn’t know what will happen now.

The Council meeting is brief, as meetings go. Viktor’s not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing, but ultimately it doesn’t make the situation much worse. 

Marcus’ request for a security detail at the hospital is ultimately denied, though the hospital staff are ordered to keep an observer present with Powder and Ekko at all times. That’s an understandable command, at least. He can’t figure out why Marcus is so hellbent on stationing armed Enforcers in an intensive care unit. The children are thieves, not killers.

“By eyewitness accounts, the girl was the youngest of the children fleeing the scene following the explosion at the apartment,” Councilor Kiramman repeats, glancing at Marcus. “Was she not?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And their ages at present are…?”

“We have no confirmed ages,” Dr. Valena (the pink-haired surgeon) reports. “But the girl we suspect is somewhere between twelve and fourteen years of age. The boy is close to that, or perhaps a year or so older.”

“We’ll need official confirmation of their ages,” she requests, and the doctor nods. 

“Councilors, I’m afraid I must insist on this subject,” Marcus pleads. “The girl has been responsible for two explosions–”

“By all accounts,” Heimerdinger interjects patiently. “She was present for one explosion and a chemical fire across the river. That does not make her responsible for them, Sheriff. It could have been the other children, whomst you’ve stated were also present at both events. In the case of the canning factory, you’ve stated that numerous gang members were present.”

“Where are they?” Mel inquires. “The older children who were witnessed during the theft?”

Marcus shifts his weight. “All three are dead.”

“How?”

“The two boys were found buried under rubble at the canning factory. The older girl was found the next day drowned in the river. The only survivors are the two in our hospital, Councilors. They are dangerous.”

“The boy was not present at the apartment theft, only the incident at the canning factory. You cannot confirm either of them were responsible for the explosion? This is not a defense of them, Sheriff,” Cassandra Kiramman raises her voice when he opens his mouth to object. “We are seeking concrete facts. Not assumptions. Solid evidence. The apartment explosion was confirmed to be the result of a rare, volatile element being ruptured. Can you prove to us that the children in the hospital were directly responsible for the chemical fire across the river?”

He breathes heavily through his nostrils, but keeps his tone even. “No. I cannot prove it.”

“Then for the time being, we will consider the evidence we do have. Both children are accused of thievery. We will see that they are questioned accordingly. But not by you.”

“Councilor?”

“You have displayed an unwillingness to put bias aside in this matter, young man,” Heimerdinger tells him matter-of-factly. “We understand you have been speaking to a professional psychiatrist for survivor’s guilt following the deaths of your fellow officers. It is clear that you cannot view this situation without allowing your personal feelings to invade your assessments. The Council will question the children. It is for the best.”

He does not seem pleased by that, but nor can he overrule them. Marcus dips his head in reluctant acceptance. 

“I do believe that settles the situation for the time being!” Heimerdinger proclaims. “If there are no further questions?”

Jayce hesitates and steps forward. “Councilor…I would like to be permitted to see the children in the hospital.”

“It’s best to leave this situation to the professionals, Jayce. I understand you might have misgivings regarding their involvement in stealing from you–”

“I’m sorry, but that’s…that’s not it. Not really,” Jayce interrupts with an apologetic look at Heimerdinger. “You see, I’m familiar with the boy. Only a little bit, but I knew his employer. A Mr. Benzo?”

He glances at Marcus uncertainly and the man straightens. “Mr. Benzo is dead. He was killed by the same suspected animal that slew Sheriff Grayson and the…other Enforcers on-scene.”

Heimerdinger’s brow furrows. “And Vander is also dead. Thus we have confirmation that the children have no adult presence in their lives, correct?”

“As far as we know,” Dr. Valena says slowly. 

“Mr. Talis, for what purpose should we allow you to visit them?” Cassandra asks sternly.

“I’m only saying that myself–and Viktor–hold at least a little familiarity to them,” he replies. “Maybe…us being able to visit will put them at ease? They might be more willing to answer questions if there’s a familiar face around.”

The other Councilors have largely remained silent on the topic. They exchange a few glances. Mel is the one who taps her finger on the table. 

“You would have to remain objective during questioning. Both of you. It is the policy of our judicial system to assume innocence until proven guilty, but nor does that mean we go out of our way to invent innocence if there is hard evidence against an individual. They have committed thefts and there will be consequences. The circumstances are as of yet uncertain, but if we grant you this, you will not use it to push for guilt or innocence. That is not your duty. Are we understood?”

Jayce nods and Viktor matches him. Mel glances amongst the other Council members. “There is merit to providing familiar faces. If it proves ineffective, other options are available. I see no harm in the attempt. All in favor?”

The hands rise one after another. Viktor relaxes slightly at that. 

Only slightly. The situation is still complicated, but at least Marcus is out of their hair. 

For now, at least.

Powder does not wake up until the next morning. 

Viktor and Jayce both are present when the girl stirs. A nurse shuffles out with a quiet word as Powder wakes (going to alert her doctor), groggy and probably not fully comprehending everything around her. 

But naturally, as she grows more aware, she becomes more alarmed. Dr. Valena steps inside before she can devolve too far.

“There she is. You slept hard,” he offers the girl a smile. It does little to settle her. Powder’s eyes shift around the room, searching–

“Your friend is in the next room over. He’s still asleep–wait, no, wait–”

She starts pushing herself out of bed the second she hears that, barely wincing as the IV in her hand is tugged by the motion. Valena sets his hands on her shoulders and she stiffens. 

“Let me go,” Powder’s voice is hoarse. “I gotta–”

“You can see him once I make sure you are recovering properly,” he says sternly. “You endured an animal attack and surgery yesterday. Frankly, that’s just the tip of the iceberg on your medical list. I need to ensure you’re fit to get out of bed.”

Powder scowls, lifts a hand to gesture exactly how she feels about that, and–

She stares dumbly at her missing middle finger.

Dr. Valena sighs. “Most of it was already gone. The amputation site is clean-cut enough that a prosthetic should be possible. Now, may I please run just a few simple tests to make sure you don’t collapse the second you stand up?”

Her mouth opens and closes as she stares at the space where her finger used to be. Powder finally jerks her head in a motion that might be a nod. Dr. Valena takes it that way and gets started.

Viktor and Jayce remain silent. Powder notices them a minute into her checkup, frowning for a few moments before her eyes clear up a little. She doesn’t say anything, just averts her eyes and waits for the doctor to finish his work. 

“You’ll be on vitamin supplements for a while,” he says when he’s done writing things down on his clipboard. “Once a day, every day. Amongst other things. You have some minor burns, but those should be fine with a little time. We’ve treated them all. We’ll be keeping a close eye on the amputation site, though. That thing had foreign chemical traces all throughout its body. An infection is possible if it’s not kept properly clean.”

Valena finally sets the clipboard aside and reaches for Powder’s hand. “Let’s get the IV out. Then we can get you over to see him.”

Powder nods, barely blinking when the needle is tugged free. Jayce winces sympathetically, but Viktor understands that the girl has seen far worse in recent days. 

Valena places a bandage over the IV entry site and slowly helps Powder stand up. Her first few steps are a bit unsteady, but she soon finds her balance.

“Good,” he seems satisfied. “Come along, then. Mr. Talis,  Mr. Viktor, if you would follow along?”

Viktor pushes himself up with his cane and Powder glances at him uncertainly, but she refocuses on following the doctor to Ekko’s room. It’s a short trip, literally just around the corner. 

Ekko is still out. His injuries were more extensive than Powder’s, thus it’s no surprise he needs more time to regain consciousness. He certainly needs more time to fully heal. 

Powder looks like she might rush over, but Valena seems to sense her impatience and quickly pulls up a chair. “Go easy on him. He has second-degree burns and fractures across his back.”

She sits, but seems to vibrate in her seat as she leans over the bed and frantically looks him over. Her hand finds his and carefully grasps it around the IV still taped in place. 

“He’s gonna be ok?” 

“He’s through the worst of it,” Valena reassures her. Powder swallows hard, maybe choking back tears. Her eyes are big and blue and watery, and Viktor suspects she will not succeed in stopping them. 

Perhaps hoping to avoid dehydration in his patient, Valena steps out of the room briefly with a word for Ekko’s attending nurse to watch them while he retrieves something for Powder to drink. 

Viktor takes his own seat along the wall with Jayce beside him. 

His partner leans over to whisper. “Should we say something?”

“Let her get her bearings first,” Viktor replies. “She’s had a nasty shock. Time enough to talk later.”

Jayce nods and leans back. He seems a little more relaxed and Viktor suspects Powder’s awakening is the cause of it. Jayce has a big heart and cares too much; he’s invested in the situation for multiple, complicated reasons. 

There are questions he undoubtedly wants answers for. But it doesn’t change who he is. He can wait a little longer. 

Powder winds up passing out at Ekko’s bedside barely ten minutes after she gets a drink. She sleeps for a solid two hours before waking again.

At least when she gets her bearings this time, she doesn’t panic trying to get to the boy. Small favors. 

Jayce isn’t sure what to make of her, if he’s being honest. On the one hand, if the Enforcers are right, she was amongst the thieves who broke into his apartment nearly a year ago. Their actions almost got him–and Caitlyn–killed. They very nearly ruined his reputation and his chances of getting research approval for Hextech. 

It’s hard to focus on those things after he rushed the child–and she is just a child, even a year after the theft–bleeding and half-dead to the hospital. He can’t forget, but the anger feels…blunted. 

He supposes he’s just going to need answers to his questions. Then he’ll decide what he’s feeling. 

When Powder wakes up again, she remains at Ekko’s bedside, only moving when another nurse comes in to check on her, and later when Ekko is due for a checkup. Beyond that, she seems content to sit there and hold her friend’s hand. He doesn’t miss the way her thumb drifts over to the boy’s wrist, like she’s feeling his pulse just to make sure he’s still alive.

Jayce has brought some non-sensitive research papers with him to do some work while they wait. He bounces his knee and runs calculations in his head, occasionally leaning over to show Viktor. His partner is going through an advanced physics book at the moment.

It’s…not exactly comfortable, but it’s calm in the hospital room. Quiet. 

There’s a soft knock at the door and Jayce glances over to find…

“Professor,” he and Viktor hurry to stand up. Heimerdinger waves them down. 

“No need to fret, lads,” the Yordle hums. 

“Of course, just–we didn’t expect you,” Jayce replies. 

“Given the situation with Marcus, the Council elected to send me to speak with the children.”

Jayce blinks. Viktor voices what he’s already thinking.

“They aren’t concerned with bias? You are our teacher…”

“True enough, but I’ve also had centuries to learn how to remain objective. This is not the first such scenario I’ve found myself in. You just leave this with me, hmm?”

Powder is staring at the Yordle from over her shoulder. 

“And you’ll be Ms. Powder, yes?” Heimerdinger puts on a smile for the girl and she nods, albeit hesitantly. 

“Ekko is still…” Jayce trails off. 

“I’ll have time to speak with him later,” he pushes a chair over to sit across from Powder, though he keeps some distance between them and winds up sitting near the foot of the bed. 

“You want to talk with…me?” Powder sounds wary, but maybe not surprised. 

“I just have a few questions, my dear,” he reassures her. 

Her eyes fall to Ekko’s hand. “What about?”

“There are a few topics. But I suppose there’s no use in beating around the bush, is there?” Heimerdinger hums and pulls out a small notepad. “Roughly ten months ago, you were seen by several Enforcers running from Piltover with three other children after an explosion destroyed part of an apartment complex. It was suspected to be a theft gone wrong. I was wondering, perhaps, if you could shed some light on the matter?”

Powder bites her lip and for a moment Jayce thinks she’s going to deny it. But she brushes her thumb over Ekko’s hand. She’s trembling.

“It was me,” she whispers. “I’ll tell you anything. Just–just don’t hurt him.”

“Mr. Ekko is quite safe.”

It doesn’t escape Jayce’s notice that she scoffs at that, like she doesn’t believe him. 

“What do you wanna know?”

“Before we touch on that, let’s start with a few facts about yourself. How old are you now?”

“Thirteen.”

“And at the time of the robbery you were…?”

“Twelve.”

“Rather young to be pulling heists, aren’t you?”

“We needed money. Piltover’s got tons more than the Undercity. It just makes sense.”

“Was that the motive? Your family needed funds?”

Powder is quiet for a moment. She never takes her eyes off her friend. Maybe that’s what pushes her to answer. 

“Mostly. It was Vi’s idea,” she says. “She wanted to prove to Vander that we could handle a real job. We wanted to show him that we were grown-up enough to pull our weight.”

“Vi?”

“My…sister. She used to be my sister,” Powder’s voice turns bitter. It’s not grief; it’s anger more than anything, as far as he can tell. 

“Short pink hair, mid to late teens?”

“That’s her. The other two were Mylo and Claggor. Our brothers. Sort of. Vander adopted them after he adopted us.”

“I see,” Heimerdinger doesn’t seem to ever stop writing. “And your birth parents?”

Her lips curl into a scowl. “Your Enforcers can’t tell you? They were shot in the bridge riots. Ekko’s mom and dad, too.”

The Yordle falls silent. Somehow, even the scratching of his pencil is quieter. Jayce isn’t sure if that qualifies as a motive for the theft, but it suddenly makes sense why she’s trying to protect Ekko. 

The bridge riots were…what, eight, nine years ago? Powder would’ve been something like four or five years old at the time. 

“So you and your siblings enacted a heist to prove yourselves to an authority figure? Were you pulled along, or did you choose to go?”

“I didn’t want to be left out,” she admits. “I was the one who picked the mark. Some guy who came to Ekko’s shop. I saw that he paid in real gold and followed him home.”

Jayce’s jaw clenches when she says that, but…something doesn’t add up. If that’s true, why didn’t she recognize him? 

His eyes drift to Ekko, but he doesn’t want to speculate. Maybe when he wakes up…

“Can you tell us what triggered the explosion?”

“I don’t really know,” she mumbles hesitantly. “We heard someone at the door and ran for it. Then the whole building just blew up. I mean, it could have been us, but I don’t know how.”

“I see. And what did you do with the stolen goods?”

“We got mugged on our way home. Mylo just wouldn’t stop running his mouth. Some thugs decided to try and take the haul. I’m not very good at fighting. I tried to run, but I wasn’t going to get away,” she deflates. “I threw it all into the river.”

“All of it?” Heimerdinger queries. 

She nods. “All of it.”

He makes a few notes and moves on. 

“That’s mostly everything I have to ask about the heist. There is another topic I need to touch on, I’m afraid. Not long after the theft, it was reported that you were present at a gang fight in a canning factory across the river. What can you tell me about that?”

Powder bites her lip. She’s fidgeting with nervous energy. To his credit, Heimerdinger keeps his posture and voice relaxed. It probably helps more than demanding answers, though how much remains to be seen. 

“This gang kidnapped Vander,” she tells him. “They killed Benzo and a bunch of Enforcers. Ekko told me that one of them was like, totally juiced on Shimmer…”

Heimerdinger’s eyebrows rise. “A man killed those people? It’s listed as an animal attack.”

“It wasn’t an animal. I don’t know what his name was, but it was a person. I think he died at the canning factory.”

“I see. And what exactly is…Shimmer?”

“It’s a drug. When Silco’s gang took over, he and the Chem-Barons started flooding the Undercity with it. Um–I’m not sure how it works. It’s really addictive and…I think if you take a bunch of it all at once, it acts like a steroid or something? I don’t know. I see it most of the time as this purple liquid. People drink it or heat it up to breathe in the fumes.”

Heimerdinger is doing a lot of writing. Jayce glances at Viktor and the worried frown on his partner’s face is deep. Finding out that a Kingpin has taken over at least part of your hometown is…not great news. Assuming Powder is telling the truth. 

But the color specifically…he thinks about that–that rat with its unnatural size and the distinct, bright purple veins…

“Were you present when the Enforcers and Mr. Benzo were killed?”

“No. I was at the bar with Mylo and Claggor. Ekko saw it. Vi was there, but I don’t know what she saw. It scared them a lot.”

“I see…but you did see the aftermath of the murders, didn’t you?”

Powder nods. “Is this about us taking their masks?”

“Did you take only those?”

“When everyone…after the factory, Ekko and I had to run and hide. We thought if we had to run to the Depths, the masks could help us breathe even with the Grey. We really didn’t take anything else from them. Sorry.”

“Why take the masks if the Enforcers could follow you? There are no shortages of masks in Piltover.”

She frowns. “We weren’t running from them. Not–we didn’t take them because of the Enforcers who saw us outside Benzo’s shop. We were running from Silco. Your Enforcers never go that deep, anyway.”

“I see.”

Heimerdinger taps the pencil on the notepad. “I suppose all that’s left is the canning factory.”

Powder squirms in her seat. “Silco took Vander. Vi brought Ekko back to the bar and left him with me. He was really messed up after Benzo got killed. She left with Mylo and Claggor to–to get Vander back.”

Her brow twitches and her head tilts a little. “We wanted to help. We just–we were scared that if something happened, we would be alone.”

“You went after them?”

“We just wanted to help.”

Jayce already has a sinking feeling in his gut. He knows this didn’t end well, but it doesn’t stop the dread.

“What can you tell me, Powder?” Heimerdinger asks gently. 

“There was a bunch of Shimmer. It’s–it’s flammable–shut up, stop–Vi got caught by that drugged-up freak and–Mylo, stop it–”

Heimerdinger stills as Powder starts mumbling to herself. Her eyes are unfocused, like she’s not all there…

The nurse bustles past Heimerdinger, who is quick to give up his seat. She takes Powder’s wrist, probably counting the pulse with the girl’s too-fast breaths–

“Out.”

Heimerdinger obeys without complaint, gesturing for Jayce and Viktor to follow. He spares the girl one last look before ducking out of the room, barely moving aside as Dr. Valena strides in and closes the door behind him. 

“Did you have to push that far?” Viktor demands.

“It’s not my decision alone, you know that,” Heimerdinger returns without offense. He’s making a few last-minute notes. “I’ll request a psychiatrist for them. PTSD is one thing, but that …has she dissociated like that before?”

Jayce glances at Viktor, who considers the question. “I’ve seen something similar. The night she came to me for help, she was speaking to Mylo. I did not want to speculate.”

“I’ll ask Dr. Valena when this has passed her by,” Heimerdinger finishes writing. “But that looks a little too familiar.”

“What is it?”

“Respectfully, Jayce, you are neither her guardian nor an attending physician,” the Yordle tells him steadily. “Remember to remain objective. I am proud that you did not react during the questions.”

“I just want to know why,” he glances at the door, but it’s been shut and the blinds closed. He can’t hear anything. He supposes that’s a good sign. “Obviously they couldn’t have known about the Hex Crystals, but they were just kids.”

“Desperation does mad things to people,” Viktor says. “Though in this case, it seems it was about proving themselves to their betters. At least for the ringleaders.”

“Children can be easy to influence,” Heimerdinger admits. “And when the influence is less than ideal, well…”

“It doesn’t have to define their lives,” Viktor points out. “I agree there should be consequences for their actions, but how much punishment can actually be dealt to them?”

“That is for the Council to decide.”

His partner is quiet for a moment. Then he sighs and shakes his head. “I suppose it won’t matter in the end. They’ll wind up back in the Undercity.”

Jayce frowns. “Why?”

“Why? Why wouldn’t they? No one in Piltover is going to take them in. I’ve told you this.”

“Viktor, my boy–”

“You requested that we be objective,” and his voice is ice. “They have no adult figures in their lives. Name a single family in Piltover who might take them in after all of this is over. A pair of children with criminal records? They’ll age out of any home you put them in and go straight back to the same streets that put them here. Run the numbers, Professor, it’s a simple calculus.”

“Objective is not the same as pessimism.”

“You forget that I come from the Undercity. I have seen this song and dance many times in my life.”

Heimerdinger concedes that with a tilt of his head. Viktor’s thumb runs over the grip of his cane. “They will be like all the others, in the end. I suppose I will suggest they leave Piltover and the Undercity behind when they have seen the end of their punishment. Assuming enough money can be prepared to make them more than beggars.”

“You really think that’s better?” Jayce asks.

“One city that cares little for their future, and another city that nearly killed them,” Viktor enunciates dryly. “Yes, I’d say they have quite the life ahead of them here.”

…And he has to give Viktor that. Jayce looks at the door again. 

He doesn’t approve of the theft in the slightest, but even so…they’re kids. Consequences, yes. They’ve done wrong. But it shouldn’t define their lives. 

Then again, he thinks, it seems that it already has in other ways. Their families are dead.

Viktor pinches the bridge of his nose. Jayce sets a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t really know what to tell you,” he admits. “I don’t hate them for what they did, but…I mean, you’re right. I don’t know what future they could…”

Jayce trails off and he thinks about that a moment more. 

“Ekko,” he says aloud. “He used to fix things for Mr. Benzo.”

“And?”

“Maybe we should see if they’ve got any particular skills. Something to…I don’t know, point them in the right direction?”

“They are children.”

“Didn’t you build a fully-functional mechanical boat when you were around their age?”

“That is different Jayce,” Viktor sighs.

“Why don’t we at least get an idea of what education they have,” he glances at Heimerdinger. “Is that a gray area on their profile? Uh…can I ask that?”

Heimerdinger taps his pencil to his chin. “It’s not invasive information, and it’s true that there are no records of their education. Yes, that could be arranged. Psychiatrist first, then I’ll see about setting up a simple test to gauge their knowledge. That, however, will wait until the boy wakes up.”

“There,” Jayce pats Viktor’s shoulder, offering a hesitant smile. “It’s not a guarantee, but it might point us in the right direction.”

“Perhaps,” he allows. 

The psychiatric evaluation takes place after Ekko wakes. Jayce and Viktor, naturally, are not allowed to be present for that. But they are present for the medical update to the Council some days later. 

It’s not good.

“Both of them display symptoms of PTSD, but my greatest concern is for the girl,” the psychiatrist reports. “She experiences episodes with the telltale signs of Borderline Personality Disorder. The trauma has exacerbated her condition; according to Powder and Ekko, she’s had episodes since early childhood. 

“Those have worsened following the incident at the canning factory. She hears voices specifically linked to her deceased kin. Her brother Mylo is present most often; his ‘voice’ bullies and puts her down during these episodes. But as far as I can tell, every single voice is negative to her psychological wellbeing.”

The psychiatrist looks up from her notes. “Just going off of that, I cannot recommend that she be put into a typical detention center. Not without specialized treatment. Her condition risks her becoming increasingly self-destructive. She’s been lucky as it is. If her friend wasn’t with her, I very much doubt she’d be alive at this point.”

It goes without saying that her condition will make it that much harder for her to be put into a foster home. 

“Thank you for your report, doctor,” Mel says. The psychiatrist nods and steps out of the Council’s circle. 

“What are we going to do about her?” Salo taps his finger on the table. He’s never seemed to be terribly interested in the case. 

“A child with that condition in the Undercity…” Cassandra muses. “It’s little wonder she’s found herself where she is now. It doesn’t change what she’s done, but there is a chance that proper treatment may result in better behavior.”

“Perhaps,” he doesn’t sound convinced. “She’s already lied to us.”

“Oh, children lie to defend each other all the time,” Councillor Hoskel scoffs with a wave of his hand. “That’s not unique to the Undercity. She’s never denied her own crimes.”

Salo tilts his head to concede that. 

Jayce had suspected (Powder not recognizing him when she claimed responsibility had been what tipped him off), but Heimerdinger’s own inquiry of Ekko had confirmed it. The boy had vehemently denied that Powder was responsible for scoping Jayce out, that Ekko was the one who put a mark on him when Vi asked for a suitable target.

Powder had tried to take the fall, but it seemed the two of them were dead-set on protecting each other. And Jayce has not exactly forgiven them for almost getting him and Caitlyn killed. But he feels like they’ve lost significantly more than they’d gained for that incident. More than what they stole, for sure.

“As for the canning factory incident, much of what’s been detailed could be considered self-defense. Her sister being caught by a drugged-up gangster? Dreadful stuff.”

“They chose to be there,” Shoola reminds him.

“True,” Bolbok agrees. “Though the circumstances are, perhaps,  understandable. They would have been left without a caretaker at the end of it all, regardless. If this chemical is truly as flammable as they suggest, so much of it catching fire in the midst of a gang fight seems like an inevitability.”

“Agreed. This…Shimmer substance is what truly troubles me,” Cassandra is frowning deeply as she inspects what information Powder and Ekko have given them on the subject. “Drugs flooding the Undercity is not new, but this seems different. Have we acquired a sample?”

Heimerdinger speaks up. “The creature recovered from the attack site does hold telltale chemical traces in its bloodstream, unlike anything I’ve ever seen. And it does indeed demonstrate violent reactions when exposed to flame. But what I have is largely contaminated. I would request that the Enforcers see to confiscating a purer sample of the aforementioned drug for further testing.”

Marcus nods stiffly at that. He has no voice in this case, but he has been allowed to remain present. For what, Jayce isn’t sure. Some sort of closure, maybe.

“I think it can be safely said that these children are victims of circumstance, going from their upbringing and the fallout of decisions made by their betters. Yet they do hold some responsibility. Neither of them are ringleaders, but there should still be some consequences for their choices. There must be a punishment,” Mel states. “The question we must answer is how serious of a punishment?”

Hoskel hums. “Is there any further information we require before delivering a verdict?”

“I mean to get a grasp for the children’s education level this afternoon,” Heimerdinger states. “Regardless of if they’re assigned to a foster home or a detention center, they’ll need to be assessed for future education prospects for when their punishments are behind them. I suggest we sleep on this latest update. I’ll gather the last details for their profiles, and we can decide their sentences on the morrow.”

There are no objections to that. 

Powder is curled up in her chair with a blanket wrapped around her. Hospitals, she’s come to learn, are cold. 

She’s not allowed into Ekko’s bed. His burns are still too sensitive. It’s annoying, but at least she’s allowed to hold his hand. At least he’s alive. 

He’s tired a lot. She is too. There’s been a lot of questions and she’s pretty sure the hammer is about to come down (again, because they can’t catch a break), but Powder doesn’t care if it means Ekko’s safe. She has nothing left to lose. 

It certainly hasn’t stopped her from trying to bring Silco down with them. She’s admitted to what she’s done when it comes to the Topside theft, but she’s pointed fingers at the Shimmer and pinned its flammability for the cause of the canning factory burning down. 

There’s been a chance since the beginning that they’d get caught by Enforcers. But she and Ekko have talked about it before, back when they took those first risky ventures near to the surface as Silco took control. 

What to do if they got caught by Piltover’s law enforcement. 

Obviously running away was ideal. But if they were caught and there was no chance of escape, they’d worked on a believable story. They knew Piltover wouldn’t let them go. No chance in hell. But if they were screwed, then they were gonna screw over the bastard who ruined their lives as much as they could on their way down. 

And a lot of it was the truth. Just…not all the truth. They didn’t ask a lot of questions about the canning factory, either. 

They hid their knowledge of the blue crystals (and really, that was the easiest part because Powder wanted nothing more than to forget about those damned things). Pointed their fingers at the Shimmer and Silco’s relationship with the Chem-Barons. Thugs and gangsters, people already under scrutiny by the law. Who knew if Piltover would actually do something? But it couldn’t hurt to try. 

They were separated when questioned (interrogated, she thought) with the exception of that first time when Ekko was still sleeping. They both knew the game; they grew up hearing about that stuff. At least they weren’t getting the crap beaten out of them by Enforcers. 

Though who knew how long that would last?

The door opens and she jolts, head whipping towards the sound. She dreads it, expects to see that uniform finally coming inside with a pair of cuffs juggling in gloved hands.

But it’s just Heimerdinger again. 

“Good afternoon, children! How are we doing today?”

“We’re ok,” Powder murmurs. Ekko tilts his head towards her. He’s feeling a little better today, but he’s still kind of worn out. 

“Good, good,” Heimerdinger pulls up a chair at the foot of Ekko’s bed and shuffles some papers around. “I have something for the two of you to work on. Have either of you attended school?”

Ekko’s eyebrows rise. “School. In the Undercity.”

“That’s a no, then. No matter, the test I have in mind is not based on the education level you’d be at for your age if you were schooled in Piltover.”

He hands them the papers with pencils (and a couple of clipboards to write on) and whips out a clock. “Each test is different, so cheating is useless. Don’t ask each other for help. If you get stuck, simply move on. The goal is to answer as many questions as you can. If you wish, you may try to race each other, but rest assured, time does not affect your overall grade.”

Ekko exchanges a glance with Powder and grins. “Bet I’ll beat you.”

“Oh, you wish!”

The Yordle seems amused by the competitive spirit, if nothing else. “On your marks…get set…go!”

Heimerdinger’s clock starts ticking and Powder dives into the questions. They’re all logic based, just in different ways. Memory questions, identifying patterns, so on and so forth. 

Easy.

She hurries through them, scribbling fast and never sparing Ekko a glance. But going from the sound of his pencil scratching at paper, he’s more energetic than he’s been since he woke up. It’s stimulating, having something like this to work on. Something she thinks she’s actually good at. Only a couple of the questions trip her up, but she gets her bearings before too long and sorts them out. 

“Done!”

“Done– dammit!” Powder swears, scowling at Ekko as he offers her a shit-eating grin.

“Told you.”

“Shut up,” she grumbles. “That doesn’t mean you got them all right!”

She passes the papers to Heimerdinger (Ekko can’t exactly stretch very far) and the Yordle takes them with a chuckle. He pulls his glasses on and starts grading them while Powder pouts. Ekko taps her hand with his fingers and she reluctantly (but not really) allows the touch. 

Heimerdinger’s humming falls silent after a few minutes. He sets one paper aside and starts grading the other. 

“Who won?” Ekko prompts when the Yordle finishes checking the last page. 

Heimerdinger’s brow is furrowed. He reaches into a little bag he brought with him and extracts a couple of…puzzles? She’s not really sure what she’s looking at. They’re metal, at least. 

“One more test for you. Same concept; complete this as quickly as you can. These puzzles are scrambled, but both are meant to be shaped into a specific object–different ones, naturally. Your job is to unscramble them and put them into the proper shape.”

He tosses one to Powder and one to Ekko. “And…go!”

It feels good, having steel in her hands that she can fiddle with. Powder twists the puzzle on an axis–some sort of internal sphere? She’s not sure, but she kind of wants to tear it apart and see exactly how it works. Maybe she can ask about that later. 

She studies the colors and curves of the puzzle as she twists it around bit by bit, lining up certain patterns with others until they form a clearer picture–and then she makes the connection.

Powder’s fingers fly as she twists and curls the object, unscrambling the steel until at last, there’s a metal horse in her hands. “Done!”

“Grr!” Ekko finishes his own puzzle–a bird–just a few seconds later and she sticks her tongue out at him. Serves him right! 

“Is that it?” Powder asks, looking back to Heimerdinger. 

The Yordle’s eyes are wide. His mouth is hanging open beneath his fluffy mustache.

“Uh,” Ekko frowns at him. “Are you good?”

Something’s up with Heimerdinger.

His teacher’s brow is furrowed and he’s fidgeting a lot–like he’s stumbled onto a particularly vexing problem. That’s a rarity to say the least, especially if you can properly comprehend how ridiculously smart the Yordle is. 

Jayce and Viktor are again present to witness the Council session. This is supposed to be the day they decide what is to be done with the children. He’s not sure what he wants to see. 

Justice yes, but also mercy. A chance for a better life. For better choices.

One of the things he’s come to learn throughout this trial is that Powder and Ekko haven’t always made good choices. But he’s also learned that sometimes they didn’t have the luxury of good choices to begin with. 

Heimerdinger’s nervous energy makes him uncomfortable. He’s not sure what to make of it. 

The door opens and Dr. Valena comes in with Powder. Ekko’s too delicate to be moved yet, but Powder’s well enough to at least be present for her own sentencing. 

“Ah, Ms. Powder! Right this way, if you would.”

Powder doesn’t look comfortable in the slightest as she is gestured to stand in the center of the Council’s circle. Heimerdinger fidgets with something beside him and extracts…a puzzle test? 

Jayce frowns. There’s no chance the Yordle actually forgot to test the children yesterday. 

“I believe you remember these from yesterday?” 

She nods. “Is it different from the last one?”

“Naturally! I make each and every one of them unique,” Heimerdinger tosses it to her before the rest of the Council can blink away their bemusement. He whips out a clock as she catches it. “If you would, solve it as quickly as you can.”

Powder shrugs and waits for his mark. “Ok.”

“And…go!”

Jayce watches the girl as she hyperfixates on the puzzle, her fingers are flying across the steel and–

“What in the world?” Viktor’s breath catches. Mel Medarda and Cassandra Kiramman have gone very, very still. It’s not long before the majority of the Council catches on. 

Jayce can only stare with ever-widening eyes. 

She is blazing through that puzzle. Heimerdinger does not make them easy; he’s known some people to take hours to figure them out. But Jayce had thought the kids were taking a written test, not…

There’s a constant stream of clicks and snaps as she works it through her hands, brow furrowed, never bothering to look up at the people around her. Lost in her own world as she pieces it together bit by bit–

“Done.”

There’s a butterfly in her hands, steel wings fluttering with a tap of her fingers, and Jayce is trying to run the math in his head. She’s–what, thirteen? Solved a puzzle with that level of complexity in a matter of minutes, what does that…

Heimerdinger is beaming and really, that says it all. 

“Thank you very much, Ms. Powder,” he sounds especially pleased as he takes the butterfly when she offers it to him. “If you would step outside with Dr. Valena for just a few more minutes, we’ll be right with you.”

She nods, nervous again, and is quick to leave the circle. The doors close behind her and the doctor with a deep thud. 

“What was the point of that?” Salo is frowning. 

“Ms. Powder was just demonstrating to the Council what she and Mr. Ekko demonstrated to me yesterday,” Heimerdinger settles back in his chair. “You just saw her break the Academy record for solving my logic puzzles by approximately ninety-eight seconds . And I am referencing the Academy for our graduate level students, not the Middle School.”

Cassandra’s lips part. Mel’s eyes are narrowed, like she’s already running possibilities in her head. Bolbok and Shoola exchange a slow glance. 

“They shattered the records for the IQ tests typical for their age,” Heimerdinger admits. “I decided to test them with something more advanced and they broke those expectations, too.”

“Both of them?” Cassandra demands.

“Both of them. They finished within seconds of each other.”

That sets off a string of murmurs amongst the Council members. Jayce isn’t sure what to say. The kids were smart to have survived as long as they had, of course they had to be. But this was…

Gods, that wasn’t just a high score for intelligence, that was genius level. The kind of talent that came along once in a generation. 

“What I’m hearing,” Mel speaks up, “is that with a proper education, you believe they would be valuable assets to the Academy. Potentially pioneers in whichever field they choose to pursue. The opportunities could be worthwhile to numerous business ventures if they live up to their promise.”

“An IQ test is one thing, but intelligence isn’t necessarily indicative of success,” Salo points out. “They have thus far relied on crime. This doesn’t clear them of their charges.”

“Of course not. But it is my experience that children are malleable. Perhaps a lighter punishment drawn out over a longer time period is in order. Community service? If they are as intelligent as Councillor Heimerdinger believes them to be, it would suit us to see their education begin sooner than later. We need to show them that we are not the monsters they may believe us to be. That we can offer them a future worth working towards.”

“I agree with the idea of community service,” Bolbok taps his chin. “And yet we must also ensure we are not offering advanced–potentially dangerous–information to a pair of genius-level deviants. Might I suggest a trial run? Twelve months of community service and remedial lessons to catch them up with their peers before being properly enrolled. We’ll see if they are capable of good behavior during that time and decide if they are suitable for the Academy.”

There are some murmurs of assent across the Council. Salo considers the information before presenting a counter. “Twelve months of community service, but twenty months before official enrollment. They have years of education to catch up on. The Fall semester is nearly over. We’ll have more time to inspect their characters, and they’ll start attendance with a new semester.”

Cassandra Kiramman debates that before dipping her head. “I concur with Councillor Salo and second the motion. All in favor?”

Hands rise up one by one. They’ve made their choice. He catches Marcus shifting and a glance reveals a mighty scowl on his face. He’s not happy.

Community service is fine as far as Jayce is concerned. He didn’t want them to go to prison. He just hadn’t expected them to be literal diamonds in the rough, either. Well, in theory. 

Powder is called in with Dr. Valena and once again comes forward to stand in the center of the Council’s circle.

“Ms. Powder,” Heimerdinger begins. “The Council has made a decision regarding your and Mr. Ekko’s involvement in the thefts we’ve discussed.”

Powder doesn’t shrink, just sets her jaw and meets the Yordle’s gaze defiantly. Jayce doesn’t miss the way she trembles, though. 

“There will be twelve months of community service,” Heimerdinger tells her. “And during that time, you and Mr. Ekko will begin remedial lessons spread over twenty months in preparation for enrollment at the Academy–if you both demonstrate good behavior.”

She’s quiet for a moment. The furrow of her brow becomes confused. “You…aren’t throwing us into Stillwater?”

“Stillwater is for hardened criminals, not children!” Hoskel says, aghast. “Neither of you are old enough to be admitted to such a facility even if your crimes were that severe.”

“...Ok,” she fidgets in place. “Uh, what’s community service?”

“We’ll give you the details later, but it’s as the name suggests; you’ll spend time working to improve the lives of the city’s people,” Heimerdinger answers. “We believe this will allow you to answer for the thefts, but will also provide time for remedial studies.”

“For the Academy?” Powder shifts her weight. “We…don’t have money.”

“If you demonstrate good behavior and meet our expectations during your studies, the education will be funded by the Academy itself,” Mel explains. “Your and Ekko’s test results are…impressive. We think you have much to offer if you are willing to put the work in.”

The girl doesn’t seem to know what to say to that, looking entirely out of place. A child making adult decisions. “We…don’t have a house, either.”

“You’ll be assigned to a foster home until you come of age. Before you and Ekko are considered adults, we will revisit the matter and decide if you are eligible for housing provided by the Academy.”

“Will we still live together?”

“That remains to be seen,” Bolbok admits. “Perhaps so, if suitable housing can be found to support both of you.”

The thing is, Jayce and Viktor have been with the children since all of this began. He doesn’t know everything, but he knows being together is important to them. All they’ve had is each other. Separating them, he suspects, won’t end well. 

And if he’s being frank with himself, he’s already had a crazy idea cooking in the back of his mind. Something he feels out of his depth for, but Jayce thinks they can handle it. Viktor wants to help, yet all-too often it sounds like he doesn’t believe a good outcome is possible.

Jayce thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can prove his partner wrong and show him that there’s room for hope. 

It’s that little spark of madness (because really, sometimes hope is just a crazy dream, the same kind of crazy that birthed Hextech) which drives him to stand from his seat and clear his throat.

“Councillors, I believe I may be able to offer a solution to the housing concerns.”

Jayce has already decided what he’s going to do. He doesn’t know how he’s going to do it, but these kids need someone to look after them. Someone who understands how their minds work, who can guide them towards maybe the only chance they have at a future. Perhaps this is how they start working on Viktor’s dream of helping the Undercity. And if it’s important to Viktor, then it is important to Jayce. 

He steps forward and the motion is noticed by all the Council. Marcus is still scowling, but he says nothing. 

Powder looks over her shoulder as Jayce approaches, stands behind her, and places his hands on her shoulders. She stiffens, so he keeps the contact light to keep her from feeling trapped. 

“Viktor and I will take in Powder and Ekko,” Jayce announces.

What the hell are you doing, Jayce? He thinks to himself. 

Mel Medarda lifts a perfect eyebrow. “Will you? And what precisely makes you qualified to offer this, Mr. Talis?”

“The two of us work directly with the Academy and understand how the education system works. We know the ins and outs, and would be able to help tutor them for remedial lessons and advanced lessons when the time comes for them to properly enroll. 

“Viktor was the Dean’s assistant for years, and he is also from the Undercity. He would be able to provide a sense of familiarity, if nothing else. He can share their perspective. Help them settle into life in Piltover. As far as housing is concerned, the two of us recently moved into an estate. There is plenty of room and it’s close to the Academy.”

They don’t immediately shoot him down. That’s something, at least.

“You are neither a parent nor a guardian,” Cassandra reminds him. “One child is challenging enough, let alone two.”

“No, but my mother would be quite willing to assist us. It takes a village, so the saying goes. And from what I’ve seen, I think this process would be easier on everyone if the children were kept together.”

Powder looks utterly bewildered. Cassandra does not appear wholly convinced, but she doesn’t reject the idea.

“And what does Mr. Viktor say to this?” Salo glances at the man in question. Jayce has not dared to look at him yet. They haven’t talked about this in the slightest. 

Viktor answers after a moment of silence. “I agree that the children should be kept together. And I will admit that having someone else from the Undercity to guide them into life Topside will make the transition more bearable. We do indeed have plenty of space at the estate, and funds to provide for them.”

Bolbok considers that. “There is merit to providing the children some sense of familiarity. And it is true that their connections with the Academy will only benefit the education of Ms. Powder and Mr. Ekko. If it does not work out long-term, there is always the possibility of a transfer. The boy will require more time in the hospital to recover from his injuries; that will give Mr. Talis and Mr. Viktor the opportunity to prepare their home for the arrival of the children.”

Heimerdinger’s head bobs up and down. “Yes, I suppose that could work out quite nicely. You will have to sign up with the foster services, however. We’ll need to expedite the process, but you will still be required to undergo inspections and such to ensure the children are being properly cared for.”

“Of course,” Jayce agrees. 

The Yordle lifts his hand. “I’ll favor the suggestion.”

“I don’t believe you know what you are getting yourselves into,” Cassandra sighs as she studies Jayce. “But I also suspect you are willful enough to pull it off. You have a track record of doing such things. Very well, I second the motion. All in favor?”

The hands rise. 

Jayce and Viktor are officially the guardians of two children.

What has he gotten them into?

“...You’re serious,” Ekko sounds dazed as Powder finishes telling him everything that happened with the Council.

“I don’t think I’m dreaming. It’s crazy enough to be a dream, but…” Powder shrugs helplessly. 

“Maybe we’re both dead?”

She shudders in her chair. “I hope not. Don’t joke about that.”

“Sorry,” Ekko squeezes her hand. She leans her head on the bed, fiddling with his fingers. 

“I thought that maybe when you were better we could just…run away,” she admits quietly. “I don’t know where. Maybe jump on a Skyboat?”

“Maybe. But…if we run, they’ll never let us back in. We’re only gonna get one shot at this.”

“It’s Piltover,” Powder scoffs. “Home of the Enforcers, the rich pigs, the prissy and proper jackasses who push all their trash into the Undercity.”

“We almost got killed in the Undercity a bunch of times. I mean, I don’t think Piltover will ever feel like home,” Ekko admits. “I don’t think I’ll ever really like it. But also…what do we have left to lose?”

“We could run back to the tree.”

“It’s almost Winter, Pow. The caches are probably gone. We don’t have a shelter built at the tree.”

“I know,” she mumbles.

“Why don’t we try it for a little bit and then decide? If we wanna run, we can wait until the weather warms up,” Ekko is watching her face from where he lies on the hospital bed. “And if we stay…well, we get a free ride to the Academy. We can make some money and then bail, if we like.”

“Vi used to say we’d make them respect us one day,” Powder reminds him. She hates talking about her sister, but they shared the same view on Topside.

“We can still do that. Let’s beat them at their own game,” he replies. 

That’s kind of fun to think about. “We could invent stuff and sell it. If we get to work with Piltie-quality tools, we can do everything they do, but a million times better. It’s not hard. We’ve done that with just scrap.”

“I bet whatever I invent will sell more,” he challenges.

“In your dreams, Little Man,” her lips quirk up. “I’m gonna get rich enough to buy my own Skyboat.”

“What, so we can fly away whenever we want?”

“Yeah,” she admits. “That would be fun.”

She’s still playing with his fingers. He never pulls away. Never lets go. The touch is calming. 

“We’ll show them,” Ekko quietly declares. “We’ll show them all.”

Chapter Text

Act II, Part I: The Inventor’s House

So the thing is: Jayce has no idea what he’s doing. The first thing he does when he and Viktor get custody of the kids is go to his mother. 

He’s kept her updated about the situation with Powder and Ekko, but the look on her face when he tells her what he’s done is one for the books. And she was the first one he told about the concept of Hextech.  

Ximena Talis has been present for all of Jayce’s half-mad ideas. So she takes a breath to collect herself, accepts her son’s latest bout of insanity for what it is, and helps out however she can. 

They spend a week planning and getting things sorted out for the children while Ekko continues his recovery in the hospital. The Council also provides them with a list of things they need to have in accordance with Piltover’s foster services. It’s a helpful outline. Once they get what they need, they’re quickly given approval to bring Powder and Ekko home.

But there isn’t exactly an outline for exactly how to integrate two kids into an unfamiliar house. 

Jayce glances around the dining room entrance towards the stairs for the umpteenth time. He went up earlier to tell Powder and Ekko that dinner would be ready soon, but they still haven’t come down. 

“Do you think Ekko needs help getting down the stairs?” Jayce asks his mother. Ximena has finished cooking and is currently helping Viktor set the table. 

Ekko can walk, but he has a brace around his torso at the moment while the fractures in his back heal. 

Ximena follows her son’s gaze after she sets down a couple of plates full of food. She considers the question. 

“Perhaps. But he managed to get upstairs without any problems, didn’t he?”

Viktor chimes in. “His brace won’t inhibit his movement such that he can’t move up and down the stairs. But perhaps you should check in on them anyway. Tell them the food is ready.”

Jayce nods and (with the permission he isn’t sure he needed but was sort of hoping to get) ventures back upstairs to their rooms. 

Powder and Ekko have two rooms next to one another, and apparently each room is larger than any space they’ve ever had with their families. They’re not as massive as Caitlyn’s, but they’re big enough that the kids were a little overwhelmed by the sheer amount of space they were given. 

Last Jayce checked, they were in Powder’s room. Sure enough, he hears voices and twists the handle to peer inside.

“Hey guys, dinner’s ready at the…”

Jayce stares. Powder and Ekko stare back from within…quite possibly the biggest pillow fort he’s ever seen in his entire life. The bed’s been stripped (and from the look of things, they’ve raided Ekko’s room for more materials) and the place is significantly more chaotic than he remembers it being just hours ago. 

They’ve made a hammock. It even looks halfway stable. 

But at the moment, the two of them are peering out from within a four foot opening to…he might as well call it a cave, that’s what it looks like the most. 

They look nervous. Jayce isn’t quite sure what to say, but he doesn’t want to start on the wrong foot. It’s a lot messier than he’s prepared for, but also…he remembers having to clean up so many of his own messes when he was a kid. 

They’ve just moved in. They’ve had a rough go of it. It’s not like they’ve ruined anything. 

And truth is, it kind of reminds him of when his dad was still alive. He was always a little more encouraging to creativity than Jayce’s mother, for all that he loves her. 

“You two have been busy,” he finally chuckles. Jayce tries for easygoing, leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed. 

He thinks they relax a little.

“Dinner’s on the table. My mother’s cooking, so it’s definitely edible.”

Powder crawls out of the fort and stands, only pausing to wait as Ekko follows her. She takes his hands, helps him get up. Which reminds Jayce–

“How’s your back?”

“Ok,” Ekko tries for a shrug, but winces a bit. “Kinda sore.”

Moving all that stuff around probably hasn’t helped. But kids get caught up in the moment, so…maybe he was too distracted to notice. Jayce bets it’ll hurt worse later. 

“We’ll get your painkillers once you’ve eaten something,” he decides, making a mental note that he definitely won’t forget. 

“Alright.”

“Powder? Feeling ok?”

“Mmhm.”

She’s the hardest of the two for him to read (not that Ekko is much easier). Jayce is still going through what information he’s gotten on Borderline Personality Disorder. It doesn’t dominate her behavior, but he knows he needs to get an understanding for it–not to mention the PTSD both of them show signs for–if he and Viktor are going to make this work. 

That, on top of literally any material he can get on caring for children. His bookshelf has a whole cubby now full of books on the subject. Viktor, he knows, is much the same.

“Let me know if you need a painkiller after dinner, ok?” Jayce turns to lead them both downstairs and pauses. “And you both need to take your vitamins.”

And, he realizes moments later, they both need to have a medicinal cream applied to their burns. Powder’s aren’t as bad as Ekko’s, but doctor’s orders and all. 

And Powder needs a separate cream applied to the healing amputation site of her finger.

…He needs to start carrying a notepad, he realizes.

 But Jayce is relieved when he hears the kids following him. At least they’re coming down for dinner. That’s a good start, right?

The three of them shuffle downstairs and into the dining room, where the food is waiting along with Viktor and Ximena. Jayce’s mother greets them with a polite smile and directs them to their seats, which are across from Jayce and Viktor. 

The children settle in. They don’t exactly look comfortable, but they look enticed by the meal laid out in front of them. 

“Any preferences for a drink?”

Powder seems to think about it for a second and hesitantly responds. “Juice?”

“Orange? Apple? Grape?”

She blinks. “Uh…Orange.”

“And Ekko?”

“Water, please?”

Ximena nods and walks to the kitchen to get their drinks. The children don’t say anything while she’s gone, just pick up their forks and prod at their food curiously. 

It’s a simple enough meal (by his mother’s standards, anyway); a lasagna with a side of lamb, their pick of vegetables, (carrots, green beans, and a few others) and some fresh bread made to be dipped into a delicious concoction of garlic salt, butter, and olive oil. 

“We weren’t sure what your favorites were when we started preparing it,” Jayce admits. 

Ekko glances at Powder for a moment. “…I guess the river crabs? They’re not so bad with some salt.”

“Canned peaches,” she’s staring at her lasagna, seemingly perplexed by the texture as her fork continues to slowly impale it. 

Jayce has to pause a moment. “You were eating food from the river?”

“Nowhere else to catch something in the fissures,” Ekko answers, half-focused on Powder’s steady murder of her lasagna. “We boiled them first.”

…He has numerous concerns just from that alone. It’s going to have to go onto his (growing) list of things he needs to check into in regards to the children. The river is heavily polluted. No fishing is done there for good reason. Boiling their food probably helps, but he still should definitely look into that. Just to be safe.

“Did you use purification tablets?” Viktor queries as Ximena returns with drinks for the children.

“Mmhm,” Ekko is still watching Powder experiment with her dinner when a glass of water is placed in front of him. He blinks at it owlishly, then lifts the glass and sniffs at it. Slowly, he takes a sip. His eyes somehow grow wider.

Jayce feels lost. Viktor has a faint curve to the corner of his mouth. 

Ximena sits down on Jayce’s other side, looking as perplexed as he feels, but she puts on a smile. While the children tuck into their dinner with a little hesitance (but quickly-growing enthusiasm, he notes with some relief), she aims for a slightly easier conversation.

“So, with all that’s happened recently, I’ve not had the chance to ask about your research, Jayce. How is that going?”

“It’s going,” Jayce replies as he too begins to eat. “We’ve just about got the Hexgate runes worked out. Next is the testing phase.”

“Oh, don’t forget the…” Viktor twirls his butter knife in Jayce’s direction.

“Right, the designs for the actual structural system. That first, then testing.”

“It all sounds so complicated to me,” Ximena shakes her head, a little bewildered. “I’ve no idea how you’d even begin to prepare something like that.”

“It’s all mathematics. Incredibly advanced mathematics, sure, but Hextech is based on numbers,” Jayce explains. 

“You have a better mind for that than I, I’m afraid.”

Powder swallows a bite of her food and hesitantly speaks. “Hextech? Is that like Chemtech?”

Viktor is spreading butter across a slice of rich, warm bread. “The concept is similar enough, but the fundamentals are different. Chemtech relies on chemical reactions to generate power.”

“Right.”

“Hextech is powered with magic–the Arcane–that has been harnessed by science.”

“Magic?” Ekko’s curiosity is piqued, along with Powder’s. 

“It’s still in the early stages of development,” Jayce admits. “We can’t talk terribly much about it. But the theory is sound. One day, I think we’ll reach a point where it can change the life of the common man as we know it.”

“Small steps first,” Viktor hums. 

“Is it…like being a mage? Like Janna, or something?” Powder frowns. 

“No. Mages wield the Arcane through themselves,” Viktor threads his fingers together. “Hextech takes the Arcane from what is effectively a focal point–the chemicals of Chemtech, if you would–and uses it as a power source.”

“Better not tell Demacia,” Ekko mumbles. Powder flashes him a little grin. 

“Demacia has been isolationist for a long time now,” Viktor says, amused. “They rarely trade with anyone in the outside world.”

“Don’t they have stuff that…absorbs magic? Special wood or something, what’s it called…”

“Petricite,” Jayce finishes. He’s impressed; not a lot of people know about that. “It’s a bit more than special wood, but you’re right that it can absorb magic. Where’d you hear about it?”

“Smugglers in the Undercity,” Ekko prods at his food again. He’s been taking slower and slower bites. “Sometimes bits of it come in on the black market. I tried to haggle some from this guy one time, but I couldn’t get it from him. Too expensive.”

“What’d you want it for?” Powder asks, brow furrowed. 

He shrugs. “Something.”

He doesn’t elaborate. Viktor seems as curious as Jayce, by the slight twitch of his brow, but he doesn’t pursue the same direction. Ekko doesn’t seem willing to expand on his interest in the rare material.

“Obtaining samples of Petricite for further testing would be ideal,” he admits. “We’ve only had small portions to experiment on, with the Academy’s permission. Alas, it’s difficult to find any substantial quantities that don’t cost a fortune. Or any that isn’t imported illegally, for that matter. Demacia guards their supply jealously.”

“Kinda sounds like that’s the only way you’d ever get any,” Powder points out. Jayce realizes she’s also eating more slowly. 

Viktor hums. “We will make do with what we can.”

Jayce takes a sip from his glass and watches as Powder chases a bite of her dinner with a big gulp of juice. She looks down at her plate and seems to hesitate, prodding at her food with less enthusiasm.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, just…I’m full.”

Ximena blinks, startled. “You’ve barely eaten half of it.”

Powder flushes, but Viktor seems to realize what’s going on. “Ah, it’s too rich, isn’t it? I was not thinking. Shifting from meals in the fissures to Piltover’s sustenance is…an adjustment.”

“It’s delicious, but…” The girl seems to shrink in on herself. “It’s a lot.”

“There’s no sense in eating until you make yourself sick,” Viktor rationalizes. “Whatever you don’t eat, we will save as leftovers. It will not go to waste.”

“Thanks,” she mumbles. 

Ekko fidgets. “I’m full, too. Um…do you mind if we go back upstairs?”

“You both need your medicine,” Jayce reminds them (relieved that he’s remembered, too), standing up to venture into the kitchen. “And the vitamins. Here, give me a moment…”

He brings back the medication prescribed by their doctors. Powder and Ekko are quick to down the pills. Jayce still has the cream for their burns and Powder’s finger. 

“Right, then these…”

“We can do those ourselves,” Powder hurries, reaching for the bags. 

“Are you sure?”

“Mmhm.”

Jayce glances at Viktor, who only nods. He passes them the bags of medical cream. “Instructions should be inside.”

“Thanks,” she replies, then stands with Ekko and the kids slip away.

Jayce watches them go, scratching the back of his head. 

“That went…well? Right?”

“I think so. They’re attached at the hip, aren’t they?” Ximena comments, briefly looking towards the stairs the children have already hurried up. 

“It will be a process,” Viktor tells them. “We knew that when we agreed to take them on.”

“Of course,” Jayce agrees. 

But it’s only when he’s finished eating that he realizes they didn’t actually talk about the kids. They got pulled into the conversation about Hextech and the Arcane, but the adults failed to ask much about them personally.

He adds that to his ever-growing mental list. At this rate, he’s going to need an entire encyclopedia on how to manage the pair of them. 

Ekko’s bare back is scattered with mostly-healed burns. A few remain that need attention, which Powder gives as she dips her fingers into the medicinal cream and coats the wounds.

He shivers. “It’s cold.”

“I’ll try to be quick,” she tells him. But she’s careful not to hurt him; his back is already aching from the strain of putting their blanket fort together.

They’re sitting inside of it now, a canopy of sheets serving as a roof. Pillows and blankets cover the floor, giving them a cushy nest (but not too cushy, she swears that the bed was trying to eat her when she first sat on it) to rest on.

Powder rubs the medicine into his burns. They cover so much of his back, a scarred reminder of how he nearly…

She shivers and tries to focus. 

When she finishes, he pulls a shirt on, then his brace again. It’s not the rigid thing he had to wear in the hospital; it’s softer and more flexible, but it’s enough to support him while the fractures in his back heal.

“Your turn,” Ekko shifts and reaches for Powder’s medicine. She lets him.

Most of her burns are on her arms, with a small mark on her cheek. That one is pretty much healed, but he rubs some cream into it, anyway. 

He takes her hand, grabs the other medication, and delicately applies it to the stump of her middle finger. 

“Does it hurt?”

She shakes her head. “No. It’s…weird. It feels like it should be there. But it just isn’t.”

Ekko bites his bottom lip. Powder averts her gaze. “It’s only a finger.”

“Pow—“

“No,” she cuts him off, shaking her head. “I don’t wanna hear it. You would have died if…”

She says nothing for a moment, then clasps his hand. Two of his fingers come together where her middle finger should be. It’s a strange sensation. Different.

Ekko looks crestfallen. “You were supposed to be safe.”

“So don’t pull that hero crap again,” she retorts, but her voice breaks. “I thought—you told me you wouldn’t leave, you promised and—“

Ekko sniffles. She cries. They haven’t had a chance to really rest—to feel even slightly secure—since before the fire. Alone at last, safe enough for the moment, it all catches up to them.

By the time the tears ebb, they’re exhausted. They curl up amidst the blankets and pillows, as close as ever. That stupid hospital bed can’t keep them separate anymore, Powder thinks vindictively. 

“Thanks,” Ekko’s mumble is hoarse. “For saving me.”

“Don’t be dumb. You saved me first,” her reply lacks the distressed bite it had earlier. 

The thing is, she doesn’t regret what it cost her to protect him. And through that, she knows he doesn’t regret protecting her, no matter how stupidly heroic it was. No matter that he was hurt so badly.

But he’s still here. They both are.

“Don’t let me go like that ever again,” she murmurs. 

“Mkay,” Ekko mumbles. His eyes look heavy.

She rubs at the tear-trails beneath her cheeks. He yawns widely.

“‘M tired.”

Powder’s ready to sleep, but the lights are still on in the room. Habit sees her standing to turn them off (though the light switch is a change from the lamp in their old home). Once they’ve been plunged into darkness, the only light is from the slowly rising moon through the windows.

She scurries back to the fort and crawls inside. Ekko shifts and she helps him get comfortable with his brace by stacking pillows beneath him. Then Powder curls up beside him, same as they always do. It’s familiar. Fingers twine, contact that reminds them they’re not alone. 

She hears his breathing even out before sleep takes her. 

Jayce notices more and more the habits of the children as that first week steadily goes by.

They’re always together. Absolutely always. To the point that they stand guard by the door when one of them is showering, then tag out and switch positions when they’re finished and the other needs to clean up. 

They don’t leave the room often, either. They venture out here and there, usually for food or other such necessities, but largely they stay inside and rest. They make art with paper and colored pencils Jayce got for them on Doctor Valena’s suggestion. 

He’d thought the pillow fort was a game, but they sleep in it every night, adjusting things accordingly so it stays standing. They stay in the same room, and they don’t sleep deeply; the slightest noise and they’re awake, alert, and on-edge. 

There have been a couple of nights where he’s woken up to a shriek that sends him racing to their room. But whenever Jayce arrives, there’s silence. Or the kids tell him from within the pillow fort that everything is fine. 

“Some of it is survival instinct. The rest I imagine is habit,” Viktor tells him one morning, after a night when Jayce was woken by another terrified scream. He’s told Viktor everything he’s observed, and vice-versa; figures they should inform each other frequently in regards to the children.

“They’re used to living day-to-day. No promises for tomorrow. They share space for body heat. They stand guard while one or the other is vulnerable. I suspect the fort feels more like their old home; a tighter space. More secure.”

“They’re not in danger anymore,” Jayce points out, even with Powder’s shriek in the back of his mind.

“If only it were so simple to convince the mind, Jayce,” he sighs, rubbing his face. “This will take time. We need to interact with them more, but also I think we must exercise patience. People are not machines we can fix by replacing a bad part here and there.”

That’s true enough.

Another day goes by. Before night falls, when they’re all eating at the table (Viktor’s cooking this time), Jayce decides to try taking another step with the kids. 

They’ve had the week to settle in, to get used to the idea of living here with them. He and Viktor have given them space, offered help if they needed anything–which isn’t often granted–and now he thinks they might be comfortable enough to talk some more. 

“So,” Jayce begins. “How do you like it here so far?”

Ekko and Powder exchange a glance. Sometimes he wonders if they can read each others’ minds; they seem to always bounce off one another before making decisions. 

“It’s cool,” Ekko answers after a moment. “Still getting used to all the space.”

“It’s nice not having to roll that barrel up and down the mineshaft,” Powder adds. “And the water’s like, actually clean.”

Viktor spent hours giving Jayce a run-down of his old home. Jayce doesn’t have the practical experience (beyond his few ventures into the Lanes in search of equipment that was technically illegal), but he’d never been so deep as where the children were staying. 

The point was, he had wanted to get a grasp for where they came from. So he could, if not completely understand, at least get the gist of what life was like. Perspective. 

“I’m glad it’s to your liking,” he replies. “I know it can be an adjustment. I wasn’t born in Piltover, but I’ve spent most of my life here. I guess I’ve gotten used to it.”

Something sizzles in the kitchen, and it smells positively divine. 

Let it never be said Viktor can’t take care of himself. 

“Where did you come from?” Ekko asks.

“Further north. Little town further north,” Jayce frowns, thinking back. “I don’t remember very much of it. I was younger than you when my father brought my mother and I to Piltover. We used to visit now and again for a few years; my grandmother kept living there. I haven’t been in…a long time now.”

The kids don’t say anything to that for a few moments. Eventually, Ekko shrugs. “We were born in the Lanes.”

“How long have you two known each other?”

At this they hesitate and glance at one another. Powder is frowning. “I…don’t really remember not knowing you.”

“Yeah. My folks and Ms. Felicia all knew Vander. We saw each other a lot,” he sets his chin on his palm. One of his fingers traces patterns on the wood of the table. “Then after the riots, we were around each other all the time.”

Jayce doesn’t comment on that. He’s pretty sure they don’t want him to dive into that particular topic, anyway. 

“I actually wanted to ask–we got you both clothes before you came, but how are those? Too big, too small…?”

“They’re good. Kind of miss my jacket, though,” Ekko admits. 

Powder’s nose scrunches up. “I’ve never worn dresses. Ever. I don’t–how do you run in those things?”

“I wasn’t sure,” Jayce admits. “My mother picked most of those. I asked her  to get a few sets like your old one, though. But you’d like more of the casual stuff?”

She blinks. “Can…can we get more? There’s already a lot…”

“It can’t hurt to hit the shopping district,” he tells her, thinking about it. “Maybe I could ask Caitlyn if she’d like to tag along. She’s never been one for dresses, either.”

“Isn’t that expensive, though?”

“We are your guardians now,” Viktor replies as he walks in with a large salad bowl. “Let us worry about the finances.”

“There’s no sense in making you wear a wardrobe that you don’t like,” Jayce reasons. “There will be uniforms and such for the Academy, but in the house and around town, you can wear what makes you comfortable. Within reason, of course.”

“Oh,” Powder blinks. “Ok. Uh–I’d like that?”

“I’ll reach out to Caitlyn, then,” he offers a smile before standing to help Viktor get the other plates. 

“Really Jayce, I’ve handled myself all my life–”

“And I appreciate your cooking, which is why I’m happy to help.”

Viktor rolls his eyes, but does not reject the offer. 

“What happened to your leg?” Ekko asks hesitantly. 

“Oh, nothing dramatic,” Viktor dismisses his tentative broaching of the subject. “I was born with this. One of but many cripples in the fissures, as I’m sure you know.”

The boy’s eyes narrow as he tilts his head. “It just doesn’t hold your weight right?”

“It is misaligned,” Viktor admits. “And my back is…weak. I have a brace beneath this, as well. It helps my posture.”

Ekko’s got a look in his eye Jayce can only describe as ‘calculating’. But he doesn’t say anything else on the subject; just tucks into dinner when it’s brought around. 

Powder is the one who breaks the quiet spell as they eat, albeit nervously. “Um…when do we start that community service thing?”

“Not for at least another week or two,” Jayce tells her. “Doctor’s orders. You both have to be considered physically able before you can actually get started. It’ll be a few hours each day, three to five days a week. Give or take. Just kind of depends on how much time you actually spend working on any given day.”

“What sorts of things will we have to do?”

“Counselor Medarda will be visiting sometime next week,” he recalls. “She’ll be able to give a more definitive answer. You’re both underage, so nothing terribly straining.”

“Ok,” Powder still seems wary, but not as nervous as before.

“That’ll be around the same time we get started on your remedial lessons,” Jayce adds. “But I’m pretty sure you’ll both find that easy enough.”

“What sort of stuff are we learning?” Ekko looks skeptical.

“A lot of it will be just the core subjects. History, language, science, maths. The goal is to get you on the same level as your peers in the Academy.”

“Both of you will be fine,” Viktor assures them as he sits down. “Professor Heimerdinger was quite impressed with your test scores. If you can impress him, you will find this education easy, indeed.”

That seems to put them more at ease. 

“Uh…is there any way we can get some scrap, or something?” Powder is fidgeting in her seat. “I miss being able to tinker with stuff.”

Jayce lights up. Viktor lets out a half-hearted groan. “Oh dear. You’ve done it now.”

“Sorry, I–”

“That can absolutely be arranged,” Jayce interrupts Powder’s attempt to retract her question. She stares, still unsure, but he’s having none of it. “I didn’t get to show you two the workshop when you moved in, did I? We were trying to get you both settled in.”

“Workshop?” Ekko already looks more interested. 

“Let’s eat,” Jayce tells them, already thinking. “I’ll show you afterwards.”

The kids tuck into their meals with renewed gusto. Viktor shakes his head, but Jayce catches the way his mouth quirks upwards from the corner of his eye.

The workshop is technically separate from the estate, but it’s still connected to the main building. Jayce isn’t sure what it used to be, but he and Viktor have reconfigured it into a space for their various projects.

He flips the lights as they step inside, revealing the multiple work tables, assortments of tools (courtesy of House Talis, naturally), and a diversity of building materials for whatever they might need. 

There’s a lot of experimenting done when you’re pioneering a brand new field. You need to be prepared for all outcomes.

“Holy crap,” Ekko’s mouth has fallen open. “This is like, the junk heap if it was all shiny and new.”

Not exactly the words he was expecting, but the delight is what Jayce was going for. 

“My family isn’t particularly important as noble families go,” Jayce admits. “But we’ve historically been toolmakers. Hammers and the collapsible pocket wrench are what we’re best known for. Viktor and I have just about any tool you can find in Piltover, and a few that you can’t.”

He lets Powder and Ekko wander around for a minute as they take it all in. It’s the most animated he’s seen them so far, and Jayce is pleased that he has this in common with them, at least. He’s felt largely like a fish out of water in this entire process.

This, though. This he knows. This he can really help with. 

“There are some ground rules,” he says, regaining their attention. “But it’s largely common sense stuff. No power tools without Viktor or myself around–at least until we’re certain you can handle them. Same thing with chemicals; we’re responsible for your safety, so we have to be present. Be careful with flammables and sharp objects. Ask me if you need to use the forge.”

“The what,” Powder’s eyes almost bug out.

Jayce cracks a grin and Viktor sighs. “Truly, if your ego grows any more, your head will inflate and you will just float away.”

Ekko’s already grabbed a few bits of scrap, weighing them in his hand for a moment. His eyes are narrowed again. 

“It’s getting late,” Jayce says before they can get too deep into this. He can tell they’re disappointed; not that he blames them. “How about you two sleep on whatever’s cooking in your heads. You can come back in the morning.”

“Jayce and I will be in here tomorrow,” Viktor adds. “For a while, at least. Plenty of time for you to get a feel for the workshop.”

The gleam returns to their eyes and Jayce jerks his head towards the door. “C’mon. You guys still need your meds and vitamins.”

He has to wonder how much they’ll actually sleep as they slip out of the room, muttering to each other. He suspects there’s a good chance they might just chatter throughout the night in that pillow fort of theirs. 

She can barely keep still. Powder thinks she might’ve slept for a couple of hours, but who cares about that when there’s something actually fun waiting in the morning?

Ekko did drift off at some point though, so she keeps quiet, content to let her mind wander to all her ideas. Things she couldn’t even think about when they were living in the mines. Things that were fun, but weren’t practical or useful for surviving. 

She wants to start with something simple. Something for Ekko. 

She turns her head to the side, looking at him while he sleeps. His dreadlocks are still short, but they’re growing. Powder thinks while she studies him, trying to figure out what to make. She has a couple of ideas, but eventually settles on one. 

With that decided, her thoughts travel elsewhere. 

The mansion (estate, whatever) is the nicest place she’s ever seen. All big and shiny, but something about it feels artificial. She isn’t sure what it is exactly, but…

Maybe it’s because Jayce and Viktor just moved into the place. It’s not really lived in–or at least, whoever left it behind didn’t make much of a mark to remember them by. 

They’re cool enough, she thinks. Viktor has a kind of steady calm that makes him easy to be around. He doesn’t always talk a lot, but he’s never mean about it, either. He’s patient.

He’s also a damn good cook, she’ll give him that. Vander did his best, but jeez.

Jayce tries his best. He’s awkward, but he tries. He’s the one who checks on them when a nightmare wakes her or Ekko screaming from their dreams. She appreciates that, just…she’s not ready to really trust him. Not with those memories. 

But she does appreciate them for not being the overbearing, stuck-up pigs she was expecting of Pilties. This place–it’s not perfect, it’s still not really home, (and maybe it never will be) but it’s peaceful. She and Ekko have been able to actually rest. 

The Scribbles haven’t gotten loud since they’ve come here. They’re always present, always scratching, but right now they’re…muted. Background noise. 

It’s a relief for her broken mind to give her a break. On the other hand, it makes her a little tense. The longer she goes without an episode, the worse the next one usually is. Like…a storm building up until it finally bursts.

 She tries not to focus on it. To think about it. Sometimes that–that makes the Scribbles grow a little louder, when she aims her attention at them. 

Powder squeezes her eyes shut, tries to think about something else, something better–

Ekko twitches. She feels it where her hand lays on his wrist and her eyes shoot open again. 

He’s frowning, the slack of peaceful sleep growing tense. She hears his breath come in faster through his nose. Louder.

Powder starts patting him frantically, starts with his arm and then shifts onto her elbow to tap his face until he finally wakes with a gasp. Just a few seconds and his chest is already rising and falling like he’s run for his life. 

“Hey hey hey,” Powder gets his attention with another pat, this time on his shoulder. Even in the dark, his hazel eyes are wild and wide. 

Ekko swallows hard, tries to catch his breath. Powder finds his hand and squeezes. He clutches back tight. 

She knows by now the signs. It’s nothing new–they’ve both had nightmares since that night. Well, they have them more often. Powder used to only have nightmares about the bridge–about mom. 

Now her dreams are haunted by Mylo and Claggor, by Vi’s fury and Vander’s warped body. Benzo’s corpse lurks in Ekko’s mind, and most recently they both dream of fire licking at–

She shivers and snaps at herself mentally. She has to–Ekko needs her.

“What was it?” 

“I–” Ekko’s too-fast breath is slowing. “Vi. Wouldn’t stop. I told her to stop.”

“She’s gone,” Powder croaks past the sudden lump in her throat. 

She’s never had that dream before, but it’s one Ekko’s seen too much of. That moment when Vi snapped and attacked Powder, except like any nightmare, it just has to get worse. 

She’s dreamed of Ekko being charred into a skeleton above her. She remembers her throat burning from how loudly she’d screamed, how panicked Jayce looked when he flew into the room. 

Powder gets up only long enough to shift closer to Ekko and it’s automatic, the way he twists to hug her tight. Reminds him she’s still here. Grounds them both. 

She’s tired again. 

“They’re out of my reach now.”

Silco takes a puff from his cigar, looking out into the Lanes from the window in his office. Behind him, he hears Marcus shift his weight. 

“I’ll have my Enforcers keep an eye on them. They’re troublemakers. With one good excuse–”

“Leave them,” Silco interrupts. “As long as they’re in Piltover, they can’t threaten my business. I’m not interested in wasting resources to strike down children on the other side of the river. Not unless there’s value in the attempt.”

“They’ve pointed the finger at you to the Council. I’ve been ordered to acquire a Shimmer sample for analysis by Counselor Heimerdinger.”

“And you’ll get one,” he replies calmly. “A little misdirection is all that’s needed to resolve this situation. Don’t let it get into your head, Sheriff.”

Marcus falls silent. Good. 

“I’ll get you your Shimmer sample. Inform the Council that your search is ongoing, and you are confident you will acquire what they requested quickly,” Silco takes another puff of the cigar and watches smoke lazily dance from his mouth. “As for the children–a steady eye from a distance is all that’s necessary. Should they become a problem again, I would rather them be living under the illusion of safety.”

“‘If?’ You mean when.”

“We shall see,” Silco glances over his shoulder, uncaring of the man’s disdainful expression. “That will be all, Sheriff. I’ll have your sample prepared within a few days.”

Marcus needs no further convincing to leave. He almost storms out, the door closing loudly behind him. 

Silco looks back out the window as Sevika’s lighter hisses from the couch. 

“You sure about this? They’ve been trouble enough for us.”

“Trouble under trying circumstances. They’ve never openly targeted our supply line,” he reasons.

“Yet.”

“If you target every possible threat, you end up creating more of them. It’s not worth the trouble. The boy was nearly killed. They’ll be in no hurry to intervene with us, I think.”

“...Did you know they were in there? I get that the girl is Felicia’s–”

Silco’s head turns just slightly and Sevika wisely does not finish her question. But:

“Don’t go soft like Vander.”

“Don’t you know me at all? Finish your smoke break. There’s work to be done.”

She grunts and the prodding at his dispense ceases. Within a minute, she leaves the office.

Silco exhales a whirl of smoke, takes his time with it. 

No, the children aren’t the problem. He’s the one who miscalculated. In hindsight, moving up his timeline to take advantage of the failed heist Topside cost him valuable information. 

If he’d known Felicia’s daughter and Inna’s son both possessed an intellect someone as renowned as Heimerdinger was impressed by…

But he’d gotten tunnel vision on Vander. That had been his biggest mistake. The kids had been a nuisance to be removed; or so he’d thought, until the least of them damn near killed everyone in the factory. And truly, little Powder and Ekko had been at the bottom of his threat list–the youngest and most unseasoned fighters of the five children. 

Violet had been Vander come again, skilled and dangerous until she was overwhelmed by Shimmer. The two boys had been less of a concern. They would have been outmuscled one way or another. That, he’d thought, would be where his focus could end.

Little did he suspect the youngest pair would have had the biggest impact–quite literally, in fact. He still has no idea what sort of explosive they used. Its potency was unlike anything he’d ever seen. 

It’s unfortunate he was not aware of their true value until it was too late. But that’s life, isn’t it? Sometimes chances pass you by and you don’t realize it until they are well behind you.

Not that it matters now. He made a mistake, and though the cost for now is minimal, he will keep an eye on them. The children know the harshness of the Undercity, were born and bred in these fissures. If the world of sunlight makes them soft, they will not pose a threat to him. 

But if they keep their fangs sharp, cling to thoughts of vengeance and take advantage of Piltover to hone those genius-level minds to a razor’s edge…

Well. He might have a problem then.

But there are multiple solutions to almost any issue. He has eyes in Piltover to observe them. He’ll see what cards the children bring to the table in time and weigh his options on how he might outplay any… attempts they make at damaging his plans.

 For now, Silco returns to his chair and cuts the burnt end of his cigar. He has work to do. 

Zaun won’t build itself.

Chapter Text

Act II, Part II: There’s a Home Here, Somewhere

A couple of days after they get to see the workshop for the first time, Ekko and Powder are taken out to Piltover’s marketplace by Jayce. 

The air is crisp, the sky overcast with fat gray clouds. Winter’s bite has finally reached them. Both Ekko and Powder dress warmly on Jayce’s insistence. 

He even wraps scarves around their necks before they leave. The guy is so fussy, it’s kind of hilarious. 

Viktor doesn’t come this time; too much walking around on his bad leg, and it’s not like he’s able to carry a whole lot. He proclaimed that he’d have something ready for them to eat when they all got back. 

Seeing as Viktor cooks better than pretty much anyone Ekko’s ever met, he’s not going to complain. 

It’s strange, not sneaking through Piltover for once. The last time he was on these streets, he was tracking Jayce back to his apartment to scout out the robbery. 

He sneaks a glance at Jayce. Ekko still has no idea what the guy’s angle is; he knows what they did. 

So why take them in? 

He doesn’t get it. He certainly doesn’t trust it. Not if it puts Powder and himself at risk. They’ve already had too many close calls as it is. And sure, Jayce helped save them…but that was before he knew the truth. What does he think now?

Ekko will have to keep an eye out. Just in case.

Jayce suddenly pauses and waves at someone. Ekko catches sight of a teenage girl–close to Vi’s age, he thinks–waiting for them. Dark blue hair, a sharp face. Aristocratic and well-dressed. 

Classic Piltie. 

“Cait, how are you?” Jayce greets her. 

“Well enough. Bit chilly,” she admits, shifting her weight. She says that wrapped up in plenty of warm clothes, but Ekko’s not too fond of the cold breeze, either. 

“Well, we won’t be outside much, I hope,” he gestures for the children to approach and they do. “Caitlyn, this is Ekko. And this is Powder.”

“Hello,” she dips her head, puts a polite smile on her face. 

“Hi,” Powder mumbles back. Ekko just nods, scanning her with a careful eye.

She doesn’t look all that threatening. She might be a bit taller than Vi was, it’s hard to tell. She’s all lean and willowy, even with the winter clothes on. 

“So,” Jayce claps his hands together. “Shall we?”

“Of course,” Caitlyn twists on her heel–boots, not those silly high-heels he sees so many Pilties wear, Ekko notes–and leads the way. 

They wind up venturing into a few clothing stores, all stuffed to the brim with Piltover-quality goods. The best there is, naturally, with prices so high Ekko wants to cringe. 

“Powder, what size are you?” Caitlyn queries in the first shop they enter. 

She blinks. “Um…I don’t know? I just–we get whatever fits.”

The older girl looks her up and down for a moment. “Hmm…we’ll try a few out, see what fits best. I think you’re a small…”

Jayce glances at Ekko. “See anything you like? You said you wanted a jacket, didn’t you?”

“I’ll see what they have,” he replies, trying to stay focused on Powder. She needs more stuff than he does. 

Caitlyn selects a number of outfits with Powder, prioritizing function over fashion (not to say that they look bad in the slightest). She seems to have a better sense for it than Ekko expected, so he’s content to stay in the background and keep watch. 

It’s hardwired into him and Powder by now; standing guard for each other. And he’s certainly not about to let his guard down in a city patrolled by Enforcers. 

“That should do for those,” Caitlyn hums after they’ve collected several outfits worth of clothes. Jayce is carrying most of the stuff; pants and shirts, along with a blue-black hoodie Powder shyly told them she liked. 

The older girl pauses for a moment. “Powder, how old are you?”

“Thirteen and a half,” she answers. 

Caitlyn steps a little closer, leans down to murmur something Ekko can’t quite hear. He doesn’t like that, watches Powder’s reaction carefully. So help him if this Piltie pulls some shit…

But Powder listens and hesitantly shakes her head. Caitlyn asks a couple more questions and gets a frown in response. She doesn’t seem upset, just…maybe a little uncertain. 

“Jayce,” Caitlyn finally says. “Would you and Ekko mind giving us a few minutes to ourselves?”

“Yeah, that’s ok,” Jayce nods, already stepping away.

What? No, not ok! Powder looks at him and it’s on the tip of Ekko’s tongue to refuse, but she shrugs awkwardly. “It’ll be quick.”

He hesitates. It’s been ages since he was away from Powder. 

“We won’t go far,” he finally compromises. Caitlyn blinks, a little surprised. Powder offers a small grin that helps him relax a bit. She doesn’t seem uneasy.

Maybe he’s being a little too paranoid… 

Ekko reluctantly steps away and follows Jayce, but doesn’t venture out of eyeshot from Powder. He constantly glances in her direction, trying to make sure she’s still ok. 

“Well, while they get that sorted out, why don’t we try finding you a jacket?” Jayce offers. 

“Sure.”

Ekko is only really half-interested in finding clothes at this point. He does find a jacket he likes (loaded with pockets, big enough that he can grow into it for a while) and is quick to move on once he’s gotten that off Jayce’s list. 

“Anything else for you?” 

“I’m fine,” Ekko returns to keeping an eye on Powder. 

“She’ll be ok, you know,” Jayce tells him. “Caitlyn’s great. She’s like a sister to me. She won’t do Powder wrong.”

Ekko watches Caitlyn speak with Powder in a corner of the store. They have their backs to him and Jayce, sorting through…he thinks it's underwear or something. He decides to look away once he realizes.

So maybe that explains the privacy, but he’s still wary.

“If you say so,” he replies. 

Caitlyn is one of the most matter-of-fact people Powder has ever met. Straight to the point, though she’s soft enough to not sound mean. 

She asks questions Powder hasn’t had to confront before, specifically about her body. Topics she remembers only vaguely, back when Vi would grumble about cramps and get especially cranky if something rubbed her the wrong way on certain days. 

She remembers one time Mylo made a joke about her being all moody and Vi knocked the wind out of him. 

He never joked about it again. That was pretty funny.

But Powder never learned much about this stuff. She’s never gone through it, either. Vi had said she’d explain when she was a bit older, but…

That’s not important anymore. Caitlyn explains in the absence of Powder’s sister. Some of it turns her ears and cheeks red, makes her squirm awkwardly.

But Caitlyn’s pretty good at making it all sound normal. She’s growing. It’s simply a fact of life. That eases the discussion on Powder’s end. And it’s not like Caitlyn talks loudly, either. She’s soft-spoken enough that the whole conversation feels safe in the quiet store.

“You’ll need these whenever your cycle starts,” she says when they move to an aisle of what looks like medical supplies. Caitlyn reaches for a package of—

Powder frowns at the familiar sight of pads. “Why? Those are for plugging bullet holes.”

The older girl pauses. “I’m…I’m sorry?”

“What? Ekko and I carried these around in our pockets everywhere we went,” Powder shrugs. “In case we ever got shot. I heard they’re not as good if you get stabbed, but they help a little bit. We never had to use them, though.”

Vander had told them this stuff. Had talked about it seriously in his many survival lessons. And Vi always double-checked to make sure they had some ready in case of an emergency.

Caitlyn is staring at her. Powder fidgets under her gaze.

“You’re serious.”

“Yes? Nobody wants to survive getting shot and then bleed out anyway.”

“That’s certainly true. Forgive me; I was surprised. But you won’t need these for injuries…”

So it turns out Vander and Vi withheld other uses for pads from Powder. The main uses, in fact. And from what Caitlyn says, it sounds like Powder is…not a late bloomer, exactly, but maybe a little behind? 

It makes her wonder what else they didn’t teach her. Powder’s not stupid; they used to pass the red-light district whenever they went Topside. She’s heard plenty of rowdy, filthy grown-up talk and caught glimpses of things in alleys she really just never needed to see. 

But this is a little different. It’s specifically about her and how she’s growing up. 

She doesn’t get why Vi didn’t tell her. She was old enough, so why not say anything? Was she just waiting until it happened, or did she just not want to?

As for Vander—he’d always been a bit more distant with Powder than the other kids. She never felt unloved, never that. But…sometimes it felt like he didn’t really know what to do with her. They didn’t click as well as Vander did with Vi or the boys. 

Maybe she was just a really weird kid with too many problems. 

Well, no shit. It’s you, Mylo sneers. Powder flinches.

“Powder?”

“‘M fine,” she mumbles, tucking the package under her arm. “Is there anything else?”

“No, that should be all,” Caitlyn has a bag of things for Powder in her hands, which she folds in front of her. “Powder, if you need any advice, just ask for me. I’ll tell Jayce you can reach out, alright?”

“I don’t need to. I’m not helpless.”

You’re always helpless.

“I never said you were,” Caitlyn replies patiently. “It sounds like you’re quite resourceful. But I think every girl has questions. And for all that I love Jayce like a brother, he is…how shall I put this? Not well-versed in these particular topics.”

Powder doesn’t respond to that. The older girl seems to realize she isn’t going to say anything more on the subject. “The offer stands. Shall we return to Jayce and Ekko?”

“Yeah. That’s ok,” she mumbles. Caitlyn turns and Powder walks after her. “Thanks, I guess.”

Caitlyn tilts her head as an acknowledgment that she was heard. 

Powder takes Ekko’s hand and squeezes as soon as they return. 

Jayce seems a bit flustered as Caitlyn presses another bag into his hands, though the man doesn't seem embarrassed about the products inside. More like he’s slapping himself for not thinking about them. 

But that means exactly nothing to Ekko because Powder keeps squeezing his hand every now and then.

It’s another one of their systems; if they were out in the fissures away from base, and the Scribbles started talking, she could tell him without voicing them. Without feeding them. Try to keep any attention drawn to the pair at a minimum. 

She clenches her hand deliberately three times to tell him they’re scratching. Every squeeze after that tells Ekko that the Scribbles have said something. He squeezes back in response, every time. Reminds her he’s real, and that they are not. 

But it sets Ekko on edge. They’re in the middle of the city; too exposed, no pipes to hide in and wait it out. Powder’s vulnerable like this, fighting her own head. 

“We’re done,” he tells Jayce.

The man blinks. “We’ve still got a few places to—“

“We can’t.”

Jayce stares. His gaze flicks to Powder, who is avoiding eye contact altogether. 

“Jayce,” Caitlyn steps closer and murmurs lowly enough that Ekko can’t quite hear her. He’s tense.

Powder squeezes his hand again and he squeezes back. 

Jayce winds up passing a list to Caitlyn, some money, and then ushers the children away. “Alright. We’re going home.”

The moment they get inside, Ekko hurriedly pulls Powder up the stairs. Before Jayce can get so much as a word out, they’ve vanished.

Something’s wrong. He’s not blind, even if it took him a minute to catch on. Powder was way too quiet after coming back with Caitlyn. And the way she instantly latched onto Ekko, the way the boy shut the rest of the trip down…

Jayce has to make sure they’re ok.

He’s quiet as he heads upstairs, but doesn’t try to hide his footsteps. Best to let them know he’s coming, he thinks, than to startle them.

Jayce knocks lightly on the door to Powder’s room, then eases it open. He can see them in the pillow fort again, just a little. Jayce steps inside and kneels by the entrance. 

“Is everything—“

Ekko’s eyes snap onto him. Jayce falters.

Powder’s curled up, tucked back against Ekko’s chest with her fists clenched. He’s holding her by the wrists, almost like he’s restraining her. 

Her eyes are glazed. She’s mumbling, sometimes whimpering half-coherent words. Like she’s talking to someone only she can hear. 

It clicks for Jayce that she might be having an episode—her BPD. He’s only caught a glimpse of this back in the hospital, but now—

Ekko jerks his head in a not-so-subtle gesture to get out.

Jayce hesitates for a moment. This isn’t the time for a full conversation, he knows that much. 

“Do you need water? Food?”

Ekko pauses, the intensity—protectiveness, Jayce realizes—fading for an instant.

“Water. And quiet.”

“Alright,” he murmurs, then gets up and strides out of the room.

Viktor’s in the kitchen. He frowns when Jayce hurries in—no doubt he heard them come back and wondered why they didn’t say anything. “Is everything alright?”

“Powder’s having an episode. Her BPD,” Jayce opens a cabinet and snatches a glass (thinks again and grabs two just in case), fills it with ice from the freezer. “Ekko said they needed water.”

“Do you know what triggered it?”

“No, I—I thought she was fine while we were out.”

“Hm.”

“He said they need to be alone,” Jayce fills one of the glasses with water. “Should we—“

“We should give them space until it runs its course,” Viktor advises. “Ekko seems to know what he’s doing. I think questions must wait until afterwards, Jayce. Let’s help where we can. You’ve been reading on the subject, I know; there’s no forcing this. It’ll hurt more than help.”

“Right,” Jayce takes a breath. 

“You brought them home,” Viktor says calmly, ever the voice of reason. “You made the correct choice.”

“Right.”

“I will prepare lunch. You—get them their water, then sit down.”

“I should unpack all the stuff we bought. There’s—“

“Jayce, it can wait,” his partner says sternly, though not unkindly. “Those clothes aren’t going to get up and run for the hills. You’re getting into your own head. We knew Powder had these episodes. We’ll wait this out and talk when she’s recovered.”

He hesitates for a few moments before nodding to himself, still holding the glasses. 

“And unclench your hands. You’re going to break those if you squeeze any tighter.”

Jayce blinks, realizes his knuckles are white around the glasses. He lets up on the pressure, takes another breath, and makes his way back upstairs.

They haven’t moved, but Ekko’s blistering glare is lessened when Jayce sets the water on the bedside table where they can see it. He kneels again by the entrance to their blanket fort.

“I’m gonna be just outside the room,” he murmurs. “If you two need anything.”

Ekko just nods. Powder flinches and his attention immediately returns to her.

Jayce stands, leaves the room, and shuts the door quietly. Then he sits down, leaning against the wall where he can listen. He hears Powder whimper and Ekko says something in response. 

He closes his eyes and reminds himself to be calm.

The episode lasts for almost three hours. 

Viktor ventures up the stairs several times despite his bad leg, checking in with Jayce to see if anything’s changed. The answer is always no. 

The second time he brings a book with information on BPD and a few other psychological conditions the children possess; primarily PTSD, though Dr. Valena and their psychiatrist were fairly sure Powder suffered from depression as well. Maybe Ekko too, though if he did, he was better at hiding it.

Jayce reads to pass the time, though he always keeps an ear out. He’s read that some episodes can be intense, even violent, but this one seems to be on the quiet end of the spectrum. 

“Quiet” being a relative term, of course. A meltdown is a meltdown, no matter the volume.

He runs a mental checklist, tries to piece together what happened. Powder had been fine (or so it seemed) up until she got back from her shopping with Caitlyn.

Jayce knows Caitlyn would never, never deliberately do something to upset the girl. He even asked her not to talk about her interest in becoming an Enforcer when he requested her help, because he knows the kids would never trust her if they heard that. 

Something else, then. Something Powder saw or heard, maybe by accident, triggered this. Most likely. Or maybe she became overstimulated somehow? He won’t know until they ask.

He’s pretty sure from what he’s read that she’s dissociating. The glazed look in her eyes, unfocused and her barely-aware sense of what’s around her hints to that. 

Jayce thinks, recalls how Ekko was holding her arms…

And it dawns on him. Not holding. Pinning them in place.

He takes a deep breath. So maybe her episodes do get violent. But does that translate into hurting people around her, or hurting herself?

“Fuck,” he says under his breath.

Jayce keeps reading. Keeps waiting.

Finally, he hears something different. Someone shifting in the room. The slide of glass on wood—the water, he realizes. 

He fights the urge to open the door. The episode might not be over. Maybe Powder’s just at the tail end of it, or became coherent enough to ask for something to drink.

He waits a while longer.

Jayce barely hears the soft footsteps on the carpet before the door opens. He looks up from where he’s sitting.

Ekko’s standing there. The kid looks exhausted.

“She’s sleeping,” he mumbles.

“Ok,” Jayce thinks for a moment. “We’ll put her dinner in the fridge. Keep it fresh for when she wakes up.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you hungry?”

“I can’t leave her.”

“I can bring something up. Or I can watch her while you—“

Ekko shakes his head before he finishes that suggestion. Jayce purses his lips. “Why don’t I bring something up for you, then?”

The boy just nods, lifting a hand to rub at his eyes. There’s something very world-weary about the motion. 

Ekko slips back inside and Jayce stands to retrieve lunch.

Viktor has the fireplace going in the living room when Jayce finally comes down. He’d debated visiting the children as well, but decided in the end that overstimulating or overcrowding them would not be wise. 

He looks up from his book as Jayce walks to the rocking chair and sits down heavily. A hand rises to run through his hair. 

“How are they?”

“Ekko ate a little. They’re both asleep now,” Jayce sighs. 

“Hm. Perhaps some rest will do them good.”

“Maybe,” the other man sets his chin into his palm. For a few moments, he says nothing, but eventually his head shakes. “Gods Viktor, how did they do it? Handle that in the Undercity on their own? They’re just kids.”

Viktor considers the question for a time. He can’t say with surety what the children went through, but he knows well enough the obvious answer. 

“With immense difficulty, I imagine.”

They sit in silence for a while. The fire softly crackling warms the air. 

It’s barely mid-afternoon.

“We should talk to them when they wake up,” Viktor says at last. “Make certain they understand we support them. Ekko especially.”

Jayce frowns. “But Powder–”

“Powder needs to know as well,” Viktor interrupts. “But you can’t convince me Ekko will not try to handle her episodes alone. It would be irresponsible of us to allow that to continue. Helping her is good of him–truly, it is. And yet…”

“He needs to know we’ll help take some of the load,” Jayce finishes, nodding. “And Powder…she should know that we’re all there to help her through these things.”

“Yes.”

Jayce is quiet a while longer. “Cait might come by later. She offered to finish whatever shopping we couldn’t get done.”

“If she’s in time for dinner, I’ll have something prepared for her.”

“Are you ever going to let me cook?”

“You are an intelligent man, my friend. But I’ve eaten your cooking before. Absolutely not.”

“It was one time.”

“The math does not favor you.”

Jayce chuckles and Viktor’s mouth twitches into a wry smile. 

“Go to the workshop. I can see you itching to move,” Viktor tells him. “Some time hammering away at metal will do you good.”

“But what if–”

“I will remain here if the children need anything. There are enough of our papers to work on in the meantime.”

“I have been meaning to get to those.”

“It was not an accusation. We have new priorities. There is no shame in that.”

“True,” Jayce admits. He thinks for a moment, then rises from his seat. “Alright. But you know to get me if something comes up.”

“Of course.”

So Jayce takes off for the workshop to do what he needs to do. Viktor takes a sip of his tea, straightens his reading glasses, and returns to his calculations. 

Caitlyn does drop by with the items Jayce requested, politely declining the dinner invitation–something about a dinner with some of her parents’ business partners. 

To her credit, she doesn’t pry. Viktor’s half-surprised she isn’t being nosier; Jayce loves Caitlyn, but her interest in detective work borders on an obsession, and she can be…a lot. Sometimes. 

But it seems she’s tactful enough not to dig into their situation. Viktor suspects she’ll grill Jayce later, but frankly that is his problem. 

He returns to his calculations after sorting through the shopping bags. Items for Ekko and Powder are neatly separated and set out in baskets outside their rooms. 

His leg protests all the climbing of stairs, but Viktor is familiar with such complaints. 

He does peer into the room once to check in on them. From the door, he can just see Powder’s blue hair and the vague shape of their bodies. They’re nestled in the blankets within the pillow fort, dead asleep. 

…Maybe they’re more tired than he thought. He takes the empty water glasses and brings them back downstairs to be cleaned. 

Viktor winds up doing most of his work in the living room. Typically he’d do this in the study, but it would be harder to hear anything happening upstairs. 

He is patient. 

And eventually, his patience is rewarded. 

He hears a door open and close upstairs before evening comes around. Viktor tilts his head, just waiting as footsteps slowly work their way downstairs. 

Ekko’s gently tugging Powder along behind him. Both still seem drowsy; they’ve changed into sleepwear at some point. They pass the living room on their way to the kitchen and spot Viktor.

“Hungry?”

Powder nods. Her face is a little paler than usual. 

Viktor rises from his seat and follows them to the kitchen. The children settle into chairs at the table as he sets about preparing something for them to eat–something light, he decides. He very much doubts Powder can handle a lot of food right now. 

If they need more, he can make more.

Viktor hums quietly as he heats up some leftovers and prepares a simple soup. The children don’t say anything. 

He finishes the song and starts a different one, already playing in his head–