Chapter Text
Wednesday, October 6
You’re so deliriously tired that once you fall into bed, you don’t stir again until almost 11 the next morning. The first thing you do after rolling over is rummage through your bag with a yawn, but after a few useless moments of fumbling around you realize that your phone isn’t in there. You shuffle out to the living room, where you vaguely recall bumping into the couch on your way to your room the night before, but a bleary search proves it’s not in, on, or under any of the furniture.
Now wide awake, you grab your keys and prepare to walk several blocks to search your car.
You live in the middle of a collection of overfilled apartment complexes, and because whoever built them didn’t take into account their convenient proximity to both ZCC and Piltover Uni, parking close to your apartment is almost never in the cards.
You skirt around a preppy young girl wearing a ZCC Cheer sweater walking with a bow adorned shitzu. She smiles brightly and waves, a gesture you return halfheartedly.
"Beautiful day, isn't it?"
"Sure is."
"Hey, don't you go to ZCC?" She asks, and you physically have to turn 180 degrees to face her.
You struggle to curb your impatientience as you reply, "No, but I work right across the street, at The Last Drip."
She looks positively delighted. "Ooh that's where I know you! I love your guys' coffee."
"Thanks. I think it's pretty good."
When you move to go she stops you again. "Say, are you guys hiring right now? I'm looking for a part time job."
"Not at the moment, but we're always taking resumes. You can bring it in anytime."
"Thanks, I will!"
She waves and practically skips away.
You shake your head and go the final block to your car. A few minutes of scouring it produces no sign of your phone.
“Where are you?” You mutter.
You mentally retrace your steps, but you only get so far as The Last Drop when you remember being knocked into by that drunk.
It must have fallen out in the confusion.
You’ll have to borrow your sister’s phone to call the club.
You practically jog back to your apartment. Losing your phone wouldn’t be such a huge deal, except that it has a card case on it which houses your driver’s license and debit cards.
You creep to her room and slowly push open the door, only to realize your sneaking is unnecessary. Allie’s not there. And it doesn’t look like she’s been in all night, judging by the discarded dresses on her perfectly made bed.
Suspicion wars with worry.
It looks like your sister might have gone out with Marcus last night, and didn’t come home. It's possible she let you know that she made plans for the day, but you won’t know if she did until you find your phone.
You throw on clothes and immediately head out.
Most days you treat speed limits like suggestions, but considering you’re driving illegally across town you concede that this once you won’t break the law. Your painstakingly slow drive to The Last Drop at the very legal speed of 35mph gives you ample time to stew over the situation.
What do you know about Marcus, really? Not enough for you to feel comfortable letting him have access to your sister, especially considering how she feels about him. He might be a sheriff, but he’s still a stranger.
When you finally make it to The Last Drop there’s no bouncer standing at the door, but your knock summons a heavily pierced man with incredibly spiky hair.
“We’re closed.” He says, by way of greeting.
You rush to explain. “Yes, sorry, I work for Sevika and I think I might have left my phone here last night while I was working?”
Porcupine face looks wildly uninterested. “Name?”
You give it and the door shuts. After what feels like an age he comes back and opens the door wide without a word. You sweep past him into the dusky bar. It looks dingier and much less exciting in the daytime, though that could just be the effect of the room being lit by normal fluorescent bulbs instead of strobing neon lights.
“Hello love!”
“Cal!” You say with relief as the bartender suddenly appears out of a doorway on your right. His suit has been replaced by leather pants and a low cut v-neck shirt, but he’s still wearing a gap toothed grin. When he opens an arm for a side hug you step into it without thinking.
He smells strongly of leather and wood.
“I suppose you’re here to pick up your contraband?”
“You have my phone?” You ask hopefully.
“Sure do. Some bloke turned it in an hour or so after you left, said he found it underneath his table. Obviously we couldn’t call to let you know, but I figured you’d be back first thing to get it. And here you are.”
“Here I am.”
He squeezes your shoulder and chuckles. “Come on then.”
He leaves you to walk around the back of the bar, and disappears for a moment below the counter.
“Here she is.”
Relief floods through you as you unzip the card holder and find everything still inside. The only problem now is that your battery is dead.
“You don’t happen to have a charger back there, do you?”
He starts rummaging. “I believe we do… yes, here you are.”
He extends a grubby white cord, and you plug your phone in to charge. All you need is enough juice to check your messages so you can make sure Allie’s alright (and didn’t do anything stupid).
“Want anything while you wait?”
“Not unless you have espresso back there.”
“Afraid not.”
“Just water then please.”
“Anything for you, love.”
You fidget with the phone, keeping the screen in your peripheral as you watch him fetch a glass and twirl it effortlessly from one hand to the other.
“You guys always as busy as you were last night?”
“Busier, if you can imagine. We close around 2am on weekdays, but we’re open all night on the weekends.”
“Isn’t that… illegal?”
“Sure, but the boss found a way around that particular law.”
“How?” You can’t help asking.
He shrugs. “Don’t know and don’t ask. But he’s got a lot of influence in this county, knows a lot of big wigs here and in Piltover proper. There isn’t much the boss can’t get with a snap of his fingers.”
He sets down your glass of water and drops a fancy straw into it. “When Silco puts his mind to something, he’s like a bulldog. He knows what he wants and doesn’t back down till he gets it.”
“Yeah,” you take a sip and consider all your interactions with Silco so far. “But I think he needs more people around who aren’t afraid to tell him no."
"Easier said than done. You've seen the man. And we both know Sevika isn't afraid to speak her mind, but even she does what he asks without question.”
"Sure, but they have a history. Besides, he's not a god, so I don't think we should treat him like one. And it's not like he's unreasonable."
Despite being high handed with you, he’d made a few concessions when you’d held your ground.
He rests his elbow on the counter and cups his chin in his palm. “You know the boss well?”
You play with the zipper on your phone case. “Not really. A little, I guess. But the more I learn about him the less I feel like I know him. Do you…. What do you think about Silco?”
He scratches his cheek, which looks as though it could sport a pretty impressive beard if he didn’t shave. “He lets me alone with my work, so long as I keep makin' him a profit and bringing back his customers. He’s a hardnoser about rules, but I don’t have to worry about gettin' into trouble so long as I keep ‘em. He’s loyal to you so long as you’re loyal to him.”
You nod. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t already guessed about him, but you weren’t really asking about his work ethic.
“Do you think he’s a good man?”
“Now there’s a difficult question to answer.”
He gives you a deeply thoughtful look. “Who gets to decide what’s good? Or how many sins does a man have to commit before he’s irredeemable?”
“I don’t know,” You answer cautiously. “I try not to judge a person on what they’ve done in the past. What matters more is what they’re doing now. If they’ve changed, or if they’re trying to be better, I think that’s what counts.”
He nods slowly.
After a pause he says, “I used to be a pickpocket in London. I learned from a young age that I was charming and had a knack for sleight of hand. It was fun for me to pull the wool over people’s eyes, and I got so good at it that after graduatin’ I decided to forego a higher education and share my gifts with the world. I was making good money at it too, especially considering all the uh, extra tips.”
He has the audacity to wink, and you grin.
“Business was good, and I jumped from station to station in the underground, charming tourists out of their time and money and miscellaneous jewels. Until I got caught with my hand in the pocket of a member of parliament. I thought I was gone for good, then a strange looking bloke with an eyepatch came to visit me in my cell.”
“Silco,” You say automatically.
He nods. “Turns out he was followin' my act, and was impressed by my skills. He offered to bail me out and give me a good payin’ job with one stipulation. He said I had to quit thievin’, and if I ever stole from him he’d cut off both my hands so I could never do it again.”
Your fingers twist around a scrap of your straw wrapper.
Nobody who’s met Silco would doubt his threats.
“Of course I’m not barmy and took the job. He brought me back here and stuck me behind the bar, where I’ve been able to put my talents to good use. Turns out I’ve got a lot more usable skills than just pickin’ pockets. I’ve a good eye for money, and trouble, and true to my word, I don’t steal no more. So I ask you, do you think I’m a good man?”
You consider him. “Obviously I haven't known you for very long, but you seem honest, thoughtful, and you’re generous with advice. I think that matters more than whatever you did in the past.”
He smiles for a moment before sobering. “I tell you all this not for a pat on the back, but to answer your question. Is Silco a good man? To tell you the truth I don’t know. He’s a hard man to crack. But if anyone can do it, I think you could.”
“Why me?”
“Because it’s clear you’ve got a mind to find the answer. Just… please, take a care, love.”
Your heart beats faster as he takes your hand looking grave.
“The boss is like an unstoppable force, and... well, it's clear you’ve got such light in your heart. I wouldn’t want to see you lose it for the world."
He gives you one last long look before the smile returns, and he pats your hand. "But I know you didn’t come all the way here for a lecture. Your phone’s charged enough now, innit?”
At the nod of his head you glance down and realize he’s right. Your mind’s racing in a thousand directions as you put the password in the lock screen.
Cal and Silco, two very different men giving you the same exact advice.
Kindness, compassion, light. All your best qualities are going to get you hurt. But you don't plan on getting rid of them anytime soon, so what exactly are you supposed to do?
You have a sudden, aching wish to talk to your mom. She always knows what to say when you start to feel untethered.
Your inbox holds a whopping 12 messages, and you immediately hone in on your sister’s name.
“Hey sis, Marcus invited me to hang out with him and some of his buddies at this exclusive sushi bar in Piltover, and we’re heading out there around 9! I’ll text when I’m on my way home.”
“Looks like we won’t be back until after 12. I’ll try not to wake you when I get home!”
The next five messages are pictures of the sushi bar, Marcus and his friends looking awkward, then one final selfie of Allie with Marcus. It looks like it was taken much later in the evening, because Marcus’ Piltover Sheriff's department ball cap is gone, and he’s actually smiling for the picture. It’s disconcerting to see him looking happy. You aren’t used to seeing such a pleasant expression on his face.
“Something bothering you, love?”
You don’t realize you’re frowning until you forcibly loosen the muscles.
“Sorry. My sister has a new boyfriend and I don’t know how I feel about him yet.”
“He’s a bad egg?”
“That remains to be seen.”
“I got a lil tipsier than I thought off that sake, lol !!!!! MArcus t thought I would be saferr if I stayed overnight and drove home in the morning :))))))“
Based on the next photo she sends you, you grudgingly agree with his assessment.
“G-nite babe I’ll text in the morning I luv u forever and alwayssssssss!!!!!!!”
Well, it's past morning and you still haven’t gotten another text.
You type out a quick reply.
“Sorry I didn’t reply last night!! I was working at The Last Drop and left my phone but I didn’t realize it until this morning. Everything alright??”
After waiting a few moments to see if the message goes to read (it doesn’t), you head back to your message inbox and open a text from Jinx.
“So, are you coming over tonight? I’m already at the end of season three of Stranger Things but I really want to watch it with you!”
A quick check of the timestamp shows it was sent around 2 am.
You shake your head. Like father, like daughter.
“Yeah, I’ll be there! Is 6 alright?”
Her response is immediate. “Heck yes!”
You find and send a gif of some white kid in sunglasses dancing before moving on to the next text, from Connor.
“Hey, so do we have any dates yet for next week? My mom wants me to come over for dinner, but I don’t want to miss the Halloween extravaganza!”
Crap.
You forgot to ask Silco about the decorating while you were on the phone with him last night.
“Not yet! But I should have the answer by the end of the day.”
The heavy sigh is involuntary.
“You sure you’re alright?”
“What? Oh yeah, fine thanks. I just have a lot on my mind this morning.”
“Well not to brag, but I’ve been told I give great advice.”
You huff out a laugh.
“In my experience things tend to feel a whole lot bigger when they’re stuck in your brain.”
“Yeah,” You hesitate a moment before leaning forward. “Cal, have you ever been in love?”
“Yeah, sure, loads of times.”
“Did you ever think that any of them were mistakes?”
He folds his arms as he contemplates the question. “I’d say most of them were probably mistakes, but they were mistakes I was happy to make at the time. You wouldn’t know it to look at me but I’m a romantic at heart, so I don’t think love is ever wasted.”
“Sounds like you and my sister have a lot in common.”
“But not you?”
You shrug. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to pin all your hopes and dreams on a stranger just because you feel like you might love them.”
“That's a sound bit of logic, and I’d probably have saved myself a lot of heartache if I’d lived by that advice. But I guess I’d rather jump at every opportunity for the possibility of love than risk missing out on finding the one that's meant for me.”
Yes, he sounds just like Allie.
You smile at him, and he responds in kind.
“Oi, Cal!” A girl with straight black hair pops her head around the corner of the bar looking peeved. “You ever comin’ back, or am I going to be here all day doing inventory by myself?”
“Sorry Talia, I’ll be there in a tick. Promise.”
She sends you and Cal a withering look before disappearing.
He glances back at you, sheepish. “Looks like I’ve been shirking responsibility long enough.”
“Yeah, I should probably get home. I’ve already lost a lot of time chasing this thing across town,” You unplug your phone and wiggle it. “Thanks for all the advice. I’ll keep it in mind.”
You make it out to the car before letting out a huge breath of air and closing your eyes. You don’t do anything except sit there and soak in the silence before finally turning back to your phone and composing a message.
“Hi Silco, would it be alright if sometime next week me and the crew at The Last Drip stayed after hours to decorate for Halloween? I talked to Sevika already and she gave her okay, so long as I got permission from you.”
You hit send and compose another text, this one to your mom.
"Hi mama, any chance we can get together next week for lunch?"
You start the car, and you don’t check your phone again until you make it home.
"I'd love that sweetheart! What about Sunday after church?"
You already feel lighter as you confirm lunch for Sunday. A few hours with her should help you get your head on straight.
Silco's reply comes at least an hour later.
“What day will you be decorating”
“I haven’t chosen a date yet, but as soon as I have one I’ll let you know.”
You create a group chat to your team (Or your soon to be team) with a few date options and ask for a consensus before making lunch, and settling in to study. You check your phone every fifteen minutes for messages from your sister, and when another two hours pass you try to call her. It automatically goes to her voicemail. A niggling worm of anxiety wriggles in your gut.
You realize you're going to have to take things into your own hands.
You grimly start typing a message to Silco.
Cal said Silco knew people in Piltover. Surely he, of all people, knew Marcus' private number. And if he couldn't get it for you, then you'd have to resort to cutting the night short with Jinx to conduct your own search and rescue.