Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There’s chaos everywhere. And not the explosive, colorful kind Jinx likes. Screaming, weapons clanging together, cries of pain and Jinx has her eyes only on one tiny person across the battlefield.

For the first time Jinx understands. Truly, deeply, understands why Vi left her at the bar all those years ago. Because just like Powder, Isha found the gemstones. And tiny, sweet, troublesome Isha is smiling like a damn angel with a shotgun aimed high.

She can’t move fast enough, trying to get her legs under her and her feet ahead. She feels Vi’s fingers scrape the back of her shoulder, catching nothing as Jinx feels the shimmer activate in her blood. It’s seconds of eternity later—seconds where her little life with Isha flashes, where her heart stops knowing that she can’t lose her little girl– that Jinx feels herself crash into Isha. 

Isha screams, dropping the gun in favor of flinging her arms around Jinx. Her fingers find the shoulder straps of Jinx’s top as she buries her head in the crook of Jinx’s shoulder. Jinx curls around her, feeling hot drops of lava land on her shoulder and well… if Jinx screams she’s one of many in that fight.

“Jinx!” someone screams her name and Jinx hardly raises her head when she’s yanked back. Turning slightly, wondering who the hell could move that fast, Jinx stares.

It’s the Boy Savior. He’s the only one with a hoverboard and snow white hair that Jinx knows. How the hell he managed to grab her, hoist her onto the hoverboard, all with one hand is a mystery. But if Jinx hazard a guess, the strange contraption with a blue glow and cymbal monkey's Ekko grips like a lifeline might have something to do with it.

Behind them what’s left of Vander steps on the hextech infused gun, lava and the force of his weight crack one stone and then the next and one more for (bad) luck.

Ekko looks at her, relief and awe in his eyes. Jinx stares and stares, tightening her hold on a sobbing Isha. And they crash. The hoverboard flips as the gun finally goes off, bathing the world in blue light.

~~~

Vi’s memory of her father is foggy. Vander springs to her mind before Connol. It turns something in her gut, makes a wave of guilt threaten to drown her. She knows why she thinks of Vander first. Even before his death Connol was often at work, getting brought in at odd hours for days at a time. A pitfall of being one of the best medics in the mines. And when he died, Vander filled the little space as best he could.

Still, Vi loves her papa and does have a clear memory of him.

Mama is in the corner of the bar, Powder in her arms as she rants at Vander. The words idiot and reckless are said more than once. Vi doesn’t listen too closely, trying to ignore the pain in her wrist. It isn’t Vander’s fault, not really. She should have been more careful.

Papa gently wraps a hand around her wrist. “Let me see that Lettie,” the rasp in his voice was more pronounced that day. But his eyes were soft as Vi scowled at him. He tapped her nose, amused as he said, “careful, your face could freeze that way.”

“No it won’t,” Vi denies, trying not to tug her hand away. Papa raises an eyebrow, as if testing her conviction. “It won’t!... will it?”

Papa laughs, poking her wrist. “Well I did treat a miner for that today. His face looked just like,” he pauses as if trying to recall it, “ah right. Just like this.” He drops her wrist for a moment and raises a hand as if scolding her and makes a face as if stuck mid shout. Vi giggles despite herself. “But he’s always screaming so you are a long way off of a frozen scowl. Why don’t we focus on this wrist instead?”

He takes her wrist again and Vi does try to pull it back. Papa doesn’t mind, rubbing her shoulder and softening his voice. “Come on, let me see you make a fist?” Vi tries, hating how it renews the pain. “Okay, stop. Wait here a tick.”

Papa stands, kissing her forehead before he leaves. Vi shuffles in her seat, looking around until she sees Powder peering over their mother’s shoulder. She looks more worried than Vi is so she tries to still and smile.

Papa comes back, kneeling down once again. “Take this, it’ll help with the pain,” he says, handing her half of a small pill. Vi uses her good hand to take it, popping it in her mouth and swallowing a sip of cool water from the glass Papa held for her. “It’ll take time to kick in and I still have to wrap it kay?”

Vi nods. He takes her wrist again, and Vi watches his steady hands work. He’d shown her days ago how to do this herself but it’s nice to see him do it still. The bandages are scratchy, a little restrictive  but… it could be worse.

In the end he doodles a few violets around the bandages in pink crayon. He adds a monkey for Powder at Vi’s insistence, plus a bunny for luck. Finally he picks her up, spinning around as he declares that she’s “All done!”

Vi wiggles in his arms, “I can walk!” Her wrist is hurt, not her ankle!

Papa laughs, hardly phased by her attempts to get away. “Shush, you’re my baby girl. I’m allowed to fuss.” He carries her over to stand by Mama. “She’s fine love. Lettie’s a tough one.”

Mama scowls, as if daring him too keep talking. Papa leans forward, kissing her as Vi and Powder protest. 

“Gross!”

“Yuck!”

The adults laugh, even Vander! The traitor. Vi turns to frown at him, wondering what was so funny. 

“Felicia is right though, Vander,” Papa starts. “You should have at least tried to treat her wrist before we got here.”

Vi tunes them all out shortly after. She lets herself lean against her father, brings her good hand to hold onto the worn out jacket. Soon enough her eyes close and she wakes up hours later curled between her parents with Powder sleeping sprawled across her.

Vi hasn't thought about that day in years. She can't remember how she hurt her wrist. A bad tumble maybe? But she remembers her father’s funny face, cool hands and drawings as clear as if it happened yesterday. She can almost feel herself being carried, safe and warm. She can almost smell the mix of dust and dirt from his jacket mixed with cinnamon.

Vi tries to inhale, moaning instead as sharp shooting pain races across her side. Something presses against it. She tries to sit up, opens her eyes to a hazy, unfocused world. Immediately someone pushes her back, hands on her shoulders.

“Hey, it’s okay,” a man speaks and Vi lets herself relax again. “I’m gonna help you, just relax for me.”

Vi’s vision clears briefly. Powder blue eyes meet hers and it clicks who’s voice she heard. “Papa?”

The world goes black once more.

~~

Connol had always been good at keeping his cool in a crisis. Preferably those related to the medical aspect of things. He could assess the situation, decide the most critical case and provide care from there. Some accused him of being too patient, too slow to react, a “look before you leap” guy to a fault.

True, as a child, Connol had been overly cautious. He’d been as risk avoidant as any undercity kid could reasonably be (but hey, when the enforcers start chasing you and your choice is jumping into the water or getting beat? You leap and don’t even register the distance till you hit the water). As he grew up, the fear became something he mastered. Something he could force down until the situation calmed and he could process it.

As an adult, people wanted him around in a crisis, because he kept his shit together. So when word spread of an explosion in the mines, Connol was called up first.

Connol rounded up three medics as he went, two of them nervous jumpstarts but it wasn’t the time to be picky. Vander would be clearing nearby shafts in case any aftershocks came. Silco would track down their friends and send a few backup medics in case they were needed.

Connol found four bodies in the empty shaft. All bleeding in some capacity, covered in ash and dirt. In the back of his mind Connol noted that the shaft was in no state of disrepair, no crumpling walls or cracks in the earth. 

“Jamie and Boots, deal with those two,” Connol gestured to the woman curled around a child. A few terrible burns as far as he could see, the woman’s blue hair singed and blackened on one braid. Hopefully she wasn’t too attached to her hair since it may need to be cut. (As if that would be her biggest concern… the longer Connol looked the worse those burns seemed). “Inna check the boy, and try to salvage that device at his side. Looks like it broke so be mindful of glass.”

The three jumped into action. Normally Connol would have Inna or himself check the child but they were needed elsewhere. Plus, Jamie was Boot’s friend so hopefully they could keep his head on straight. Connol moved to who he guessed was the oldest of the lot. 

Blood poured from a wound in her side, turning the bandages dark crimson and seeping into her jacket. She would need stitches, antibiotics would help, but that could wait. He needed to get her to a sick bay first, where better supplies would be. For now he focused on cleaning the wound, gaging how bad it was.

He dug for a clean rag from his bag, found some alcohol and doused it. Quickly he cleaned the injury, cursing under his breath as he realized how deep it went. 

The girl moaned in pain, fluttering her eyes open. Connol used one hand to press the rag to her side, casting his gaze up to the girl’s face. Connol recoiled when he did. This girl looked eerily similar to Felicia. Almost like her sister if Felicia hadn’t been an only child. But the resemblance is a little uncanny, not perfect but enough to make him wonder.

The girl tried to sit up, shocking Connol back to the present. He dropped the rag, trying to ease her back down. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m gonna help you, just relax for me,” he directed, keeping his voice steady. 

The girl’s eyes seemed to clear for a moment, meeting his as she finally lay back down. She muttered something, the word slurred together. Papa? That was about the best estimate Connol would guess. Not that it mattered, the girl likely couldn’t even see too clear nor even remember waking. He needed to focus on other things. 

It became evident quickly that Connol needed to get this girl to the infirmary. She bled faster than he could reasonably clean the area and he just didn’t have the proper tools to make this right. So he took fresh gauze and wound it tightly around the wound and picked the girl up. 

“Inna, I’m getting this one to the infirmary. Stabilize the others and bring them all. If any regain consciousness try to figure out what happened,” Connol ordered. 

Inna gave him a quick salute to show she heard, still focused on her patient.

~~

Connol kicked back on his chair, balancing against the wall on two legs. He tipped the hat over his eyes and tried to breath. He’d ended up working on both of the girls.

The first had required stitches, new gauze and one of the few IVs they had to minimize risk of injection and hopefully get some fluids back in her. She was concerningly pale, and not pale like the second girl. The second he put it down to lack of sunlight, maybe natural to a degree. This one he was sure was related to the bloodloss. It had soaked into his jacket and into his shirt below. Both were cast aside and a spare shirt rounded up thanks to Boots.

The second had far worse burns than he’d seen in a long while. It was on one shoulder, dark and deep and the only mercy was that it hadn’t bleed. Instantly cauterized. Still, he had to clean it twice, open a few places where it seemed small pebbles had been stuck and clean it all over again. Then he applied two different types of slaves meant to fight off infection and speed up healing. It would scar but.. well both girls already had a collection it seemed. (It turned something in his gut, wondering what their story was. Everyone down here had one, theirs seemed more intense than most).

Now, Connol could simply think. Why the hell did the two girls look like Felicia? She didn’t have sisters… that she knew about. Her father walked out young so maybe they were half-siblings? That didn’t explain the other two and why they were in the mines. Word spread and, far as Connol knew, nobody recognised them. They’d also reclassified the ‘explosion’ as a ‘burst of blue light’. Logical considering he hadn’t seen the slightest hint of damage to the mine. But how did anyone get injured? Did the light have any relation to it?

He yawned, hoping to catch a few moments before anyone woke up. Surely, one of the four would be able to tell him more. Except the moment he settled down, hurried footsteps pulled him right back to the land of the living. 

Before he could sit up and pull his hat back, someone took it off his face. Violet blue eyes gazed down at him, a frown written across Felicia’s face. 

“You frightened me half to death, mister,” she scolded, lightly smacking him with his own hat. “Sil made it sound like you were in one of those beds.” 

Connol let a grin appear, tilting his chair right as Felicia stepped back. Immediately he pulled her closer, letting her sit on his lap as he wrapped an arm around her. “Nope, all in one piece,” he promised.

Felicia leaned against him, looking at the four occupied beds. “What’s the prognosis doc?”

Connol hummed, summarizing everyone’s situation best he could. He laid out what he knew, what he didn’t, what he wanted to ask first. 

“Just me, or is that boy familiar?” Felicia asked.

Connol frowned, trying to think. His white hair matched Inna’s, simply shorter. He wasn’t too tall for a guy, Wyeth’s height? Or maybe a little shorter? “I don’t know, Inna and Wyeth maybe? But what about those girls who could practically be your sisters?”

“Mine? Don’t you think they kinda look like you,” Felicia countered. “That girl over there? She wraps her arms the same way you taught Vander.” Connol huffed, as if he did anything outlandish wrapping someone’s hands. They probably learned the same pattern. “Or the fact the other is, somehow, just as pale as you.”

“I’m not that pale,” Connol argued. 

“Yes, you are. It’s from all that time down here.”

“Says the one who would happily never venture out of her house if she could tinker all day instead.”

“I would so too leave the house!”

“Oh, right, I forgot about Bozo 1 and 2.”

“ Someone has to keep them in line.”

Connol laughed, “they are adults, love. They won’t fall apart without you.”

Felicia went to retort when the sound of someone mumbling grabbed their attention. Incoherent at first but by the time Felicia got off of Connol’s lap and he stood up, they could understand a few words.

“Isha? Vi?” The girl with blue braids tried to sit up, pushing up on her arms. Connol winced himself as she registered the pain of her burned shoulder. “Fuck.”

Connol crossed the distance quickly. “Easy, be mindful of that burn. Worst I’ve seen in my life,” he cautioned. He placed a hand on her uninjured shoulder. “Are you okay?”

An admitted stupid question. Anyone who turned up out of the blue in that state would definitely not be ‘okay’. And Connol watched the girl’s pink eyes settle on him, go wide and somehow the little color in her face drained. Yep, definitely not okay.

The girl jerked out of his reach, eyes darting around the room before settling on Felicia. She started muttering under her breath, putting her arms around herself in a gesture clearly meant to comfort herself. “No, no, no, no,” she mumbled, eyes starting to unfocus. “Why now? They weren’t here– shut up Mylo!”

Connol saw her nails start to dig into her skin and reached out on instinct. “Hey, look at me,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, “take a deep breath.”

“Not real, he isn’t here,” the girl continued, her grip still tight on her own arms. “This isn’t real.”

Connol carefully pried her fingers back. “Tell me five things you see,” Connol urged. He hardly winced as she latched onto the sleeves of his jacket. At least she wasn’t hurting herself anymore.

Thankfully, she did list a few things. Him. A bed. Ekko (the boy maybe? Connol thought she looked at him then). His jacket. Her nails.

“Good, now can you tell me four you feel?”

His jacket again. Pain (fair. Not technically part of what he meant but fair. He’d get her medication as soon as he could). Her clothes. The blanket around her waist.

“Three you can smell?”

“Dust. Cinnamon… axel grease?”

Connol grinned, the girl seemed to be coming back to herself. Her words came slowly, less frantic, as if she was thinking about what she said now. 

“You’re doing perfect. Two you taste?”

“Shimmer,” whatever that was, Connol meant to ask later. For now he’d take it. “...and dust I guess.”

Her grip had loosened considerably. Connol made to let go when she adjusted her hold again. Not as desperate as before but still seeking. He chuckled, moving to run his hands down her arms. Janna, she was freezing. “I’m still here, you’re safe. Mind giving me a name?”

Normally, the last step was what one person could hear. Considering Connol was pretty sure she’d been talking to someone not here before, he chose to ignore that step.

The girl blinked, looking between him and Felicia curiously. “You mean you don’t know?”

Something in that gaze was familiar. As if she were analyzing them both, trying to piece together what was broken. Felicia looked at machines that way, puzzling the problem and potential solutions all at once.

“Nope,” Felicia popped the p, her hand on his shoulder. When had she gotten that close? “Are we supposed to?”

Connol half turned, looking at Felicia. Then at the girl in front of him. One bed over. Back to Felicia. The answer was close, he just couldn’t be sure. 

The girl laughed, a hint of mania in her tone.

“Ha, guess Vi jinxed it this time!”

Chapter Text

Look, Felicia is smart. Maybe not like Silco (who always, always has a plan) or Vander (who always knows what’s bothering people) but she is. She can fix damn near anything in the undercity with minimal tools and build a half-decent bomb without a manual but this has her puzzled.

She’d hoped that Connol could simply leave on time for a change. She had plans for tonight (namely telling him to expect a permanent visitor in, oh six months now?). But of course it rarely works out that way. Because, now, she’s invested. Strange people turning up with no explanation? It’s been a while since she’s had a good mystery.

But right now Felicia is looking at a machine with half its parts and no clear function. This girl has a panic attack then immediately acts like she and Connol know her. Or that they should know her. Even more puzzling is the feeling somewhere in Felicia’s gut that she does .

Thank Janna for Connol keeping himself together even if he’s approaching twenty hours of little or no-sleep. She’ll make that up to him later. 

“What did Vi jinx?” Connol asks.

“Oh, nothing,” the girl shrugs. Felicia is really sick of calling her ‘the girl’. Maybe a nickname would work since she refuses to give up a name? “Names Jinx. Stands for jinx.”

Ooooor not. Shame, Felicia would have had fun making up a nickname. Those, unlike proper names, don’t have to be permanent or have much meaning.

Which, her daughter needs. A proper name that is. Vander said Violet and yeah, Felicia likes it. A flower, colorful, rare in Zaun but prized all the more for it. But Connol’s the dad, he should get a say too. Although, he’ll probably agree. Calmly, casually, the way he agrees to everything else. As if their daughter’s name isn’t something huge, something she will carry for her whole life.

It’s annoying how he does that. Takes such a simple, laid back look at life. As if there’s an answer for it all and he’ll find the suitable one in time. Especially when she knows damn well he breaks like anyone else. She’s seen him have panic attacks twice as bad as the one Jinx (now isn’t that a name? Bad luck. Who names their kid bad luck?)  just had. She’s seen him get drunk to drown it all and wake up the next day needing her to guide him back to living.

But she loves it about him too. She loves knowing that he will stay strong for her, keep her grounded when the world feels miles below her feet. She loves knowing she can bring him back to himself when he drowns in the few wrong choices he’s made.

“You’re lying,” Connol drags her back to the present. Felicia shakes her head slightly, clearing the jumbled mess of thoughts from her head.

~~

“Names Jinx, stands for Jinx,” she says and Connol knows that’s only half right. 

Jinx’s smile is too wide, manic and challenging. She’s used to correcting people about that part of herself. Not that Connol will. She’s daring him to challenge a name that she claims as her own. Lie or not, a name won’t affect him learning how she got here.

“Jinx, my name’s Connol. That’s Felicia,” Connol says. “Think you can tell me the last thing you remember?”

Jinx shrugs, and bitterly replies, “things went boom . Just like they always do when I’m around.” She looks to the kid, then to the oldest girl. There’s something deep in her eyes, regret? Understanding? Something Connol tries to make sense of but all he knows is this. Jinx, is decidedly not okay. 

“I don’t think that’s everything.”

Connol watches Jinx draw in on herself. Her arms go around herself, her shoulders slump and her eyes drop down. Then watches her scowl, watches her shift to be ready to jump and look up at him. “It’s all you need to know,” she snaps.

“I think you’re lying,” Connol says. He feels Felicia tighten her hold on his shoulder. Jinx’s eyes flash, becoming an even more vivid shade of pink and purple. “I need to know what happened so I can treat your companions properly. Her life–” he points to the pink haired girl, “--could be at risk. Whatever you can tell me will help me. Will help her.”

Jinx shuffles, somewhere between looking for a fight and caving in on herself again. Finally she takes a breath. 

“There was a fight. A bomb went off and suddenly we’re all here. Wherever here is.”

Connol nods agreeing, “okay, that’s a start. What about your shoulder? How did that get injured?” 

Slowly, Connol pokes and prods and gets the story. Pieces of one at least. She got injured trying to save Isha (the child) from a monster. The boy (Ekko) saved them both, and no, she didn’t know what device he had with him. But yeah, she thinks it may have been related to how they got here. Vi (her sister) was injured during the fight, stabbed supposedly. 

The girl clams up after that, unwilling to go further. Where they had been and why goes unanswered. But Connol takes the victory he has and  squeezes her shoulder. Felicia had chimed in at parts, finding out about the device and Ekko. 

Connol stands up, remembering abruptly that he’d meant to grab some pain medication. “Okay, wait here a tick,” he tells her.

Felicia takes his place immediately and Connol listens as he rifles through a cabinet running low on pain relief. 

“You know Blue Jay, one more question,” Felicia starts. Connol cracks a grin, of course she already gave the girl a nickname. “Do you know Connol and I?”

Connol turns back around just in time to see Jinx’s reaction. Surprise, shock, hesitancy. “Blue Jay?” is what she ends up saying.

“Well, blue for your hair, J for Jinx,” Felicia shrugs. She’s wringing her hands together, probably wishing she had a gear or something instead. “So, how did you recognise us so quick?”

~~

Jinx can lie. She’s good at it. And if she can’t then she’s able to blow something up. Cover her tracks or cause a distraction. Okay, so maybe lying isn’t her strong suit. Misdirection and half-truths are. 

But right now her parents are in front of her. Practically forgotten ghosts pulled into living, breathing focus. It takes a large amount of self-control she didn’t know she possessed (that she does not possess on ninety nine days out of one hundred) to not throw herself at her mother and cry. It’s the way her mother looks at her as if she’s a stranger that stops her really. The way her dad is so calm and professional instead of laughing and joking with her. 

Jinx doesn’t realize there’s tears going down her face until her… until Connol wipes them away. 

Connol’s voice isn’t as raspy as she remembers, less damaged by the smoke and fissure gases. “Take it easy, we’re just trying to help.”

And of course that makes the mess in Jinx’s head worse. I was only trying to help! The voice of Powder is loud and any memory of Powder has turned into Isha and all she sees is Isha sacrificing herself. As if Jinx deserved that loyalty, that care. 

Her dad—Connol! She needs to remember that— places a hand on her shoulder. She sees him shoot ma–Felicia a look. She can’t read it, can’t make sense of what he’s trying to convey. It shreds her a little further. She feels like a child except right now her parents are so close and so far. Vi is closer yet still out of reach…

Before Jinx can let her final bit of self-control shatter, there’s a rustling from a neighboring bed. Jinx tilts her head and wow, her vision is blurry again and there’s a few tear drops on her arms.

“Ekko?” Somehow she makes that single word steady, solid.

Ekko sits up and Jinx sees the way his side must flare up. He doesn’t hiss in pain, doesn’t move a hand over his side. But he does move slowly and bites his lips. He looks at the room, lingers his gaze on Jinx’s parents and then finds her gaze.

“Jinx?”

~~

Ekko’s had a long, long day. He hadn’t expected to get home- to his universe at least- and have to save people. All he had seen was a battle field with a wolf standing over Jinx and a child. It took four tries and sheer dumb luck for Ekko to save them both and clearly that had not been enough.

That blue explosion… Ekko has a sneaking suspicion about what happened. His device is a hex-tech time machine and well that blue explosion had to be related to hex-tech. How he wasn’t dead could only be a mystery.

Slowly he forced himself up, drawing a little blood when he bit his lip as his side protested even the slight movement. He looked around the infirmary and stared. He found Jinx’s gaze and had a really good guess as to what had happened.

“Jinx?” Ekko found his voice slowly. 

The nods and Ekko exhales. It takes a little effort, it takes ignoring his side, but he does get up. And he bypasses the child’s bed in favor of Jinx’s. “What the hell happened?” His eyes drift over to the final bed. Vi? Why is she injured? Who did it?

If Jinx wonders why he’s suddenly so relaxed around her, she says nothing. Her hand goes over his, hesitantly. As if she expects him to vanish. Ekko flips his hand, takes hers and squeezes. He’s real, he’s on her side now, he’ll swear it later.

“I could ask you that Boy Savior,” Jinx shoots back. 

Ekko looks at her and raises an eyebrow. “Really?” He shakes his head, “we’ll figure it out later.” He looks back at the couple in the room. He introduces himself and when the do the same he blinks. He remembers his own parents vaguely, remembers the names of Vi and Jinx’s parents. Looks at the woman-Felicia- and back to Jinx.

They see it too right? He’s injured, not crazy. They have to see what he sees. Jinx has to see it too. To know who’s across from them. Jinx nods as he looks at her, a silent question on his lips. “Yeah, I know,” Jinx confirms.

~~

Connol hates that he’s clearly missing a large piece in the puzzle. Jinx is staring at him and Felicia like she’s tempted to jump at them. From fear or because she wants comfort he isn’t sure.

That boy–Ekko– is holding onto Jinx like she’s going to vanish. He looks at her the way Wyeth looks at Inna when she’s not aware of it. He looks at him and Felicia as if mourning their deaths. 

He takes a breath. Runs over the facts. And still comes up blank and with a headache. His day is far too long and honestly? He’d be sort of okay leaving right now and going with Felicia to Jerchio’s like they had agreed on earlier. But, he remembers the two are still unconscious, he can’t leave. Not yet.

Connol had stood up a little while ago. About the time Ekko went to sit beside Jinx instead. He wraps an arm around Felcia’s waist and buries his head in her neck. He’s not shocked when she loses her patience.

“Okay, let us in on that secret!” Felicia finally snaps. “Why do you both know us? Or look at us like we’re ghosts?”

Connol looks up, resting his chin on Felicia’s shoulder. Jinx shifts like a little kid sneaking candy.

“Do the names Violet and Powder mean anything to you?”

Connol feels Felicia go tense in his arms.