Chapter Text
The faint hum of chem-lights buzzed overhead as Vi and Jinx strolled side by side through the winding streets of the Undercity. The familiar mix of damp concrete, metallic tang, and stale oil filled the air. Vi adjusted the cuffs of her jacket, sneaking a glance at her sister. Jinx’s gaze darted from one shadowy corner to the next, though her bouncing steps and exaggerated hums gave off the impression she didn’t have a care in the world.
For a moment, the silence between them stretched, heavy with the weight of years lost and words unspoken. Then, breaking the quiet, Vi’s stomach gave an audible growl. The sound echoed awkwardly off the nearby walls.
Jinx froze mid-step, turning slowly with a mock-serious expression. She clapped a hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking as she struggled to contain her amusement.
Vi flushed and rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” she muttered, though her lips tugged upward in a sheepish grin. “Guess breaking into two houses in one night works up an appetite.”
Jinx lowered her hand, the remnants of her laughter softening into a smile. She turned around with a flourishing spin, her braid whipping around as she pointed at Vi. “You always did eat like a starving dog,” she teased, her voice light—almost like it had been years ago. “And you’re buying me food now. No take backs!”
Vi snorted, unable to hide her grin. “Sure thing. Anything to keep that big mouth of yours busy for a few minutes.”
Jinx stuck her tongue out before skipping ahead, her sing-song voice carrying back to Vi. “I can think of a few things that’d keep my mouth busy. I’m starving.”
Vi followed, shaking her head but unable to stop the warmth blooming in her chest and fiery blush on her face. It wasn’t real—not entirely. Jinx’s over-the-top antics were an act, a cover for her unease. That what Vi would keep telling herself anyway.
***
Jericho’s diner stood in its usual corner, its flickering chem-sign casting a faint glow over the street. Inside, the mismatched furniture and creaky tables gave the place its usual ramshackle charm. The scent of fried food and spices filled the air, as comforting as a well-worn jacket.
Jinx sauntered in first, throwing her arms wide as if announcing her arrival to a Council meeting. “The queens have arrived, Jericho! Your finest banquet, pronto!” she declared with dramatic flair.
Jericho, a towering man with a patch over one eye and an apron stained beyond saving, raised what was probably his races version of an eyebrow. He crossed his arms, letting out a low, sceptical grunt.
Vi stepped in behind her, chuckling. “Don’t mind her, Jericho. I’ll settle up before we go.”
The shark-like man eyed her for a moment, then gave a curt nod before shuffling back into the kitchen, muttering something unintelligible under his breath.
Jinx flopped into a booth, kicking her feet up onto the seat across from her. “Man, I forgot how much I missed this dump,” she said with a smirk, looking around at the peeling paint and flickering lights. Her tone was flippant, but the way her eyes lingered on the little details told a different story.
Vi slid into the seat opposite her, swatting Jinx’s boots down. “C’mon, don’t disrespect the classics,” she said lightly. Her voice betrayed none of the overwhelming joy she felt at being able to do something as simple as eat at Jericho’s with her sister again.
Their food arrived soon after, carried out by Jericho himself with a grunt that Vi translated as “eat up.” Plates clattered onto the table, piled high with greasy delights.
Jinx grabbed a piece of unidentifiable meat and wagged it at Vi like a sword. “To the triumphant return of the mighty Vander sisters!” she proclaimed, popping the fry into her mouth with a dramatic flourish.
Vi chuckled but said nothing, her chest tight as she took a bite. The food was as greasy and delicious as ever, but the real treat was sitting across from her. The sight of Powder here, in this moment, felt like a dream she didn’t want to end.
Jinx, for her part, devoured her food with gusto, making loud, exaggerated noises of delight as though she didn’t have a care in the world. But Vi noticed the way her eyes darted toward the door every so often, or how her hands hesitated for just a moment too long before picking up her next bite.
Vi grabbed a piece of meat from her own plate and offered it to Jinx with a crooked grin.
Jinx rolled her eyes but took it between her teeth regardless, never breaking eye contact with her sister. Vi, for her part tried not to blush at any insinuation, she was just feeding her sister, that was all. “Thanks,” Jinx said through a mouthful of food, but there was a hint of genuine warmth in her voice.
***
Jinx led Vi through more of the maze-like alleys of Zaun, her usual wild energy subdued into an almost nervous tension now. She kept glancing over her shoulder to make sure Vi was still following, her steps quick and uncertain.
“You sure you know where we’re going?” Vi asked, her voice light but laced with curiosity.
“Yeah,” Jinx muttered. “Just… it’s a secret, okay? And you can’t tell anyone.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Vi said, her lips quirking into a small, tentative smile.
After a few more turns through the darkened streets, they reached an unassuming metal door, its hinges rusted, and edges warped. Jinx fumbled with the lock for a moment before pushing it open.
“Close your eyes,” Jinx ordered, spinning to face her sister.
Vi raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Really?”
“Yes, really! Just—just do it!” Jinx huffed, her foot tapping impatiently.
With a resigned sigh, Vi closed her eyes. She felt Jinx grab her hand—gently, almost shyly—and lead her inside.
“Okay, open,” Jinx said after a beat.
Vi opened her eyes and took in the sight before her. The space was a chaotic blend of cosy and dangerous, unmistakably Jinx’s domain. Neon chem-lights in soft blues and pinks bathed the room in an otherworldly glow, reflecting off shelves crammed with gadgets, explosives, and a surprising number of stuffed animals. A battered armchair sat in the centre, surrounded by mismatched furniture and scattered blueprints.
“Wow,” Vi said after a moment. “This is… something else.”
“Something else good or something else bad?” Jinx asked, her tone defensive, but her fingers fidgeting nervously with the hem of her shirt.
“Good,” Vi said, smiled. “It’s good. It’s you.”
Jinx seemed to relax at that, though she quickly tried to cover it up by flopping into the armchair with exaggerated nonchalance.
Vi sat on the floor in front of her, leaning back against the armchair. “Alright, Powder. Let’s talk.”
The name made Jinx flinch again. She still wasn’t sure how that name from Vi made her feel. Instead, she stared down at her hands, her fingers twitching restlessly.
“Why’d you leave me?” Jinx asked, her voice quiet and raw.
Vi’s chest tightened. She let out a slow breath, knowing this was coming but still unprepared for how much it hurt to hear.
“I didn’t mean to leave you,” Vi said softly. “I walked away because I was angry—terrified I was going to hurt you again. I needed a minute to cool off, to figure out how to make things right. I swear I was coming back, Powder. I swear. But before I could, an Enforcer grabbed me. I tried to fight him off, but… he put something wet over my face and next thing I knew I was waking up in Stillwater.”
Jinx stared at her; expression unreadable. “So… it wasn’t because of me?”
“No,” Vi said firmly, her voice trembling with emotion as she turned around to kneel before her sister. “It was never because of you. I thought about you every single day. I never stopped looking for a way back to you.”
Jinx’s lip trembled, but she bit into it, looking away. “Then why’d you choose her? On the bridge, when it was me or Hat Lady, you chose her.”
Vi winced, the question hitting like a punch to the gut. She rubbed the back of her neck, searching for the right words.
“I wasn’t choosing her over you,” Vi said. “You were holding your own, and everyone else seemed okay. I thought Ekko was going to talk to you. So, I thought I could get Cait to safety, get her away from you because her being there was making you upset. Then everything went even more to shit. I thought I’d have time to come back for you, to fix things after. I didn’t know—” She stopped, her voice breaking. “I had no idea you and Little Man would go after each other like that.”
Jinx’s eyes narrowed, her voice low and sharp. “You thought I’d be okay? I wasn’t okay, Vi! I haven’t been okay since you left!”
“I know,” Vi said, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I’m sorry. For everything. I was just trying to stop anyone else from getting hurt. I didn’t realise I was already hurting the person who mattered most.”
Jinx’s gaze softened, but the pain didn’t leave her eyes. “What about Stillwater?” she asked, her tone quieter now. “What did they do to you in there?”
Vi’s face paled, her jaw tightening. She looked away, her hands balling into fists.
“That’s not something I want to talk about,” she said, her voice flat and emotionless.
Jinx frowned, observing her sister. Vi’s eyes held a haunted look, her shoulders tightening at the mere mention of the prison, a sight that was not lost on her.
“They hurt you,” Jinx said, her voice quieter, almost a whisper. “Didn’t they?”
Vi didn’t answer, but the silence was enough.
Jinx’s expression darkened, her hands clenching into fists. Her mind raced, already piecing together a plan. “I’ll kill them,” she muttered, more to herself than to Vi. “Every single one of them. I’ll make them pay for what they did to you.”
“Pow, don’t,” Vi said quickly, reaching out to grab her hand. “It’s over. I’m out. That’s what matters.”
Jinx looked at her, her pink eyes blazing with determination. “No one hurts you and gets away with it. No one.”
Vi sighed, squeezing her sister’s hand. The look in Powder’s eyes was so overwhelming that she shyly averted her gaze. “Can we just… focus on us right now? We’ve got enough to deal with without you blowing up a prison.”
Jinx hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. “Fine. But don’t think I’m forgetting about it.”
Vi managed a small smile, her heart aching at the fierce protectiveness in Jinx’s voice. “Thanks, Powder.”
Jinx didn’t flinch this time and didn’t pull her hand away either. Instead, she tightened her grip, her expression a mix of vulnerability and resolve. She pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them as she sat on the armchair. The chem-lights of the room reflected in her eyes, making them seem even more intense. She stared at a spot on the opposite wall, the fingers of her other hand fidgeting with a loose thread on her pants.
“After you were… gone,” she began hesitantly, “Silco found me.”
Vi stiffened at the name, her jaw tightening.
“I know… I saw him standing over you, holding a knife. That’s when I tried to get back to you. When that Enforcer grabbed me.” Vi whispered.
Jinx’s voice, small and distant, trailed off, “Oh… I just didn’t know what to do. I was alone, scared, and he… he said he’d take care of me. He told me I could be strong. That I didn’t need anyone else.”
Vi’s free hand clenched into a fist. “And you believed him?”
Jinx shot her a sharp look. “What else was I supposed to do, Violet? You were gone! Everyone else was gone! I didn’t have a choice!”
Vi’s anger faltered, guilt flooding her expression. “I’m sorry,” she breathed.
Jinx looked away, her voice dropping again. “He took me in, raised me like I was his own. Said he saw potential in me. And I believed him… at least for a while.”
Vi swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice steady. “What did he do to you, Pow?”
Jinx laughed, but it was bitter and hollow. “Nothing bad, if that’s what you’re worried about. No experiments or torture or whatever you’re imagining. He just… raised me. Trained me to be his little genius, his right-hand girl. I built him weapons, helped him run his empire, took out anyone who got in his way.”
Vi’s stomach turned. “Powder—”
“Jinx,” she interrupted sharply. “It’s Jinx now.”
Vi’s expression darkened. “Ok. J-Jinx. That’s not the life I wanted for you. I didn’t want you to grow up like this, working for someone like Silco.”
“Like this?” Jinx snapped, her voice rising. “What’s wrong with the way I turned out, huh? I’m strong, I’m smart, and I’m not some scared little kid anymore. Isn’t that what you always wanted for me?”
“Not like this!” Vi shot back, her voice breaking with emotion. “I wanted you to be happy, to be safe, to have a life—your life. Not whatever twisted version of it Silco gave you!”
Jinx glared at her, but the fire in her eyes flickered. She turned her head away, her voice quieter now. “I am happy. At least… I thought I was.”
Vi softened, reaching out to touch Jinx’s shoulder. “Jinx…”
“No,” Jinx said, shrugging her off. Her hands tightened into fists. “I don’t want your pity, Vi. I don’t need it. And I don’t want your anger, either. I’m fine with the way I turned out. I’ve done things, yeah, but that’s who I am now.”
Vi stared at her, her heart aching. “But it’s not who you have to be, Jinx.”
Jinx didn’t respond immediately. She picked at the thread on her pants again, her voice almost a whisper. “He lied to me, though. About you.”
“What do you mean?” Vi asked carefully.
Jinx’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “Silco always said you betrayed me. That you left me behind and got yourself killed by an Enforcer. He told me I should forget about you, maybe even hate you for it.”
Vi’s hands balled into fists again. “That son of a—”
“Stop,” Jinx interrupted, holding up a hand. “Don’t. I don’t need you to get mad at him. I already am.” She looked up at Vi, her eyes glinting with anger. “I hate liars, Vi. And he’s been lying to me this whole time. Makes me wonder what else he lied about.”
Vi hesitated, seeing the conflict brewing in Jinx’s expression.
“I owe him a lot,” Jinx continued. “He saved me when no one else did. He made me feel like I mattered. But now…” she trailed off, her hands tightening into fists again.
“Now what?” Vi asked gently.
Jinx shook her head, her voice quiet. “Now, I don’t know what to think.”
Vi reached out again, this time taking Jinx’s hand in hers. “It’s okay not to know. We’ll figure it out together.”
Jinx looked at her sister, her expression a mix of anger, confusion, and something softer, something almost hopeful.
“Yeah,” she said after a moment. “Together.”
The silence that followed was heavy but not suffocating. For the first time in years, they were peeling back the layers of pain, lies, and guilt that had built up between them. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.