Chapter Text
Wednesday, October 20 (Pt. 4)
Dinner and “The Creature from the Black Lagoon” kick off the evening, followed by Mario Kart. After several rounds of getting your butts thoroughly kicked by Jinx, you collectively decide to break for coffee.
As you boil the water and grind the beans, Jinx brings up the subject of tattoos, and she and Allie go deep into planning her next one. You have no idea how Silco feels about tattoos, but considering that the entire right side of his daughter's body is covered in them, you guess he isn’t too opposed. It even sparks the question of whether he has any himself.
Probably not. You doubt he’d trust anyone enough to permanently mark his body, though it does entertain you to consider where and what kind of tattoos he'd have, if he were so inclined.
A tramp stamp of his eye logo.
A red dragon along his spine.
A “Mom” tattoo with a heart and a rose on his right arm.
And maybe he’ll get a heart tattoo with your name on his arm.
“What are you smiling at?” Allie calls from the living room.
“Oh, nothing,” You hastily turn back towards the counter with a cough. “Coffee’s ready if you want some.”
“Absolutely.”
Allie arrives, distracted by her ipad as she grabs for a mug (and misses).
“Does Jinx want any?” You ask, holding one near her hand.
She grabs it automatically. “I don’t know, she’s going to get a card game. She says she just got it from her therapist and wants to try it out on us.”
“That sounds…”
“Intense, right?”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less from a Spisak.”
“Found it!” Jinx reenters the room with a flourish, but this time she has Crocs in her arms. “I also found this cute little guy in the closet, begging to be let out.”
“Again?” Allie moans. “Come on Crocs, we talked about this!”
Crocs narrows her eyes in complete contentment.
She looks like she couldn’t care less about what they talked about.
Jinx plops onto the couch. The cat looks mildly alarmed, but not scared enough to leave her arms. “So the game is called ‘We’re Not Really Strangers’, and it’s supposed to be this super fun getting to know you game. My therapist actually bought it for me because I have a hard time making new friends and she thought this would be a good place to start. Sevika refuses to play it with me, but I thought you guys would totally be down.”
“Oh I’m down,” You say, pouring the coffee into Allie's mug.
“Yay!” She drags a blanket over her lap, and settles Croc into the center. “So we can play it in a ‘haha, joke, funny’ kind of no pressure way, or we can make it serious and deep and stuff.”
“A party ain’t a party until you’ve cried about your childhood traumas with new friends,” Allie says, raising the now full mug to her nose to sniff.
“And you have,” You remind her.
“Yes I have.”
Jinx looks immensely pleased. “Okay so apparently how it works is that there are 3 levels, and we go around and ask each other questions from each stack. Level 1 is perception, Level 2 is connection, and Level 3 is reflection. Whatever that means.”
“I’m sure it’ll make more sense once we start,” You say, settling into the cushions on her right.
“Or we could just like, not care about the levels and pull whatever cards we want.”
“Sure,” Allie quips. “As the French say: Sous la vous, or whatever.”
Jinx points at her and bursts into mad cackles. When Allie joins in, you look between them, baffled.
“It’s a Tiktok,” Allie grins. Then, to Jinx. “She doesn’t do Tiktok.”
“You’re such an old person,” Jinx says fondly.
“I don’t have to do Tiktok,” You try to defend yourself, “Because you both send me enough of them to make me feel like I have a Tiktok.”
“It’s alright Toots, we’ll keep sending you all the vids that will keep you relevant so you don’t settle into the prehistoric age. You know, like dad.”
“What’s so bad about the prehistoric age?” You balk. “I like dinosaurs.”
“Ooh, did you just call Silco a dinosaur?”
“I absolutely did not!” You try to say over Allie and Jinx’s mad peals of laughter. “I’m saying that if he’s in the prehistoric age that means he’s around dinosaurs, and cool flora and fauna. And I like him, and I like dinosaurs, and I like plants, so it’s a triple win!”
“It’s okay Toots, your secret’s safe with me. I’d never tell him you think he’s a fossil.”
“I don’t think he’s a fossil!”
“What kind of dinosaur would your dad be, though?” Allie asks, completely ignoring your mounting panic.
“Velociraptor,” Jinx says immediately. “Hands down.”
“Okay, but why does that make sense?”
“Because of science.”
“Fair. Then that also makes you a velociraptor, but the blue one from Jurassic World.”
“OMG I totally am!”
It’s relieving to know they’re both easily distracted. And it’s such a satisfying feeling, watching them get along as if they’ve known each other all their lives. Allie’s like that, though. It’s her gift to make others feel comfortable. She effortlessly draws out the most authentic sides of people, and celebrates their weirdness.
You pull out your phone slowly and record them on the down-low as they go off on a tangent describing everyone they know as a different dinosaur.
Sevika becomes a T-Rex. Allie is a Triceratops because she loves how unnecessarily in-your-face they are. You’re christened a stegosaurus, because while you’re technically a gentle giant you’re not afraid to use your sharp spikes. Also, they swear you’d look great with a mohawk.
When the laughter finally dies down, Allie wipes her eyes. “Okay so are we actually going to start this game or what?”
“Right, yeah, for sure.” Jinx clears her throat, but giggles one more time before throwing all the cards into one big pile, shuffling them. "Who goes first?"
“You should start," You say. "and we’ll go clockwise. So your first question will be for Allie."
Jinx pulls a card. "So, Allie."
"Yes Jinx?"
"What stereotypes do you think have been made about you, if any?”
“That I’m a super tough alt lesbian feminist who hates men.”
“Wow, you didn't even hesitate.”
“That’s a quote from boyfriend number 7. I think he just went out with me because I reminded him of his last girlfriend, who left him for a woman.”
“He sounds like a total keeper.”
“Yeah, I definitely kept him at arm’s distance when he tried to kiss me good-bye on our last date.”
“Ew!”
“You’re telling me. Okay your turn sis.”
You raise your mug. “Bring it on.”
“How would you describe your relationship with yourself in one word?”
You take a moment to consider. “Well, I think me, myself, and I have a pretty good working relationship. I don’t have any complaints anyway. So I guess I would have to say… vibing.”
“You’re vibing big-time Toots,” Jinx nods in agreement.
“Thanks,” You pull a card from the middle of the deck. “Ooh, okay, I like this one. So Jinx, how have you neglected your mental health recently? What’s one small way you can make it up to yourself?”
She bites her lip as she pets Crocs. “Right now my mental health is actually pretty unhinged, but it’s still hinged if you know what I mean.”
“Totally,” Allie agrees.
“So I usually paint when I’m feeling bad, but I haven’t been able to paint since the show. So… I could start painting again?”
“Do you not want to paint, or you just haven’t painted?” You ask.
“Both. Sometimes I just feel like I have so many ideas that I have to get them out of me or I’ll explode! Then sometimes I just feel nothing, and I have no good ideas and I hate the idea of sitting in front of a canvas.”
“That’s all part of the creative process,” Allie tells her.
“I guess.”
“No, it is. Take it from a girl who’s made a career out of art. Life is cyclical, just like nature. You’ll have seasons of fresh ideas and create a ton of inspired work, then you’ll have seasons where you have no ideas, you hate your work, and you hate yourself. And that’s normal.”
Jinx looks relieved to hear it.
“So, what are you going to do to make it up to yourself?” You prompt. “Besides painting?”
She shrugs. “I guess I could… hang out with cool people and watch movies and play games and stuff.”
“Oh dang! Look at you, already living your best life!” Allie shakes Jinx’s leg. “You’re killing it girl.”
Jinx smiles shyly, grabs a card, then lifts the cat further up into her arms so she can bring her knees up to her chest. “Okay so next one…”
Thursday, October 21
Silco never called.
It’s your first thought when you wake up the next morning, and it follows you throughout the day. You think about it while you make breakfast, and as you drive Jinx back home so she can get ready for class. It niggles at you while you’re at work, and it’s hard not to text him after you clock out of your shift.
You don’t want to make a big deal about it. He’d sounded so stressed on the phone. If it was really important, he would tell you, wouldn’t he?
Maybe. Maybe not.
Silco is many things, but communicative isn’t one of them.
You start your car and text Sevika to tell her you’re on your way to the shooting range, and when you’re finished you stare at Silco’s name in your phone.
Maybe one little check-in text isn’t such a bad thing. Is it?
“Hey, I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk last night! I hope everything’s okay. I miss you.”
You delete the last three words.
There’s no reason to make him think you’re clingy.
Sevika texts you as you're pulling away from the parking lot.
“I’m already at the range, but it’s technically closed so text me when you get here.”
You do, and you stay in your car in the dark, eerily empty parking lot until you see her open the door.
You tramp after her through the cold, empty corridors towards the range.
“So tonight we’re focusing on getting you more practice with your firearm,” She says without preamble. “The boss wants you up to speed, and I don’t want to be afraid you’re going to accidentally shoot me in the back when we’re in the middle of a crisis.”
“Do you anticipate there being a crisis?” You ask lightly.
“Always assume there’s going to be a fight, and you’ll never be surprised.”
It’s the kind of vague, non-answer you’d expect from Silco, but not Sevika. Maybe it's a military thing.
You watch her carefully as she sets up your stall with extra ammunition and empty magazines. She seems like her usual, gruff self, but there’s an edge to her; It’s sharper, more focused.
She hands you your gear and assumes a stance you can only describe as “drill sergeant Sevika”.
“Alright kid, let’s see what you remember from your last session.”
The next few hours are grueling. Sevika runs you through repetitive drills, offering brutally honest constructive criticism for every wrong move you make.
You can’t tell what she’s judging you on, except by the oft repeated: “Arms higher. Don’t lock your elbows. Don’t lock your knees. Square your hips.”
She doesn’t have you reload from the safety of the side-board, but with pre-loaded magazines straight from your pocket. She highly encourages you to move faster, and more efficiently. You aren't granted the opportunity to breathe, or work out the tightness in your shoulders, but after four hours go by without stopping she utters the highly anticipated words, “Alright, that’s enough for tonight.”
Your shoulders are a frozen mass of sore muscle, which scream as you grab your water bottle and chug.
Sevika takes all of the paper targets and examine them with a frown.
“You made some progress.”
“But not enough.”
“I wasn’t expecting you to become Doc Holiday overnight. Accuracy doesn’t matter in the beginning so much as programming your body to make the correct movements. After your movements become natural, then we can work on accuracy and speed.”
“Wonderful. I can’t wait.”
“Look kid, this is for your safety.”
“Right, because I’m totally safe, and there’s no reason to worry.”
Her eyes narrow. “You’re acting like a real smart ass tonight.”
“I’m tired and I'm hungry, but at least I’m using my words.”
“To be a little bitch.”
Your voice turns shrill as anger flares, sudden and hot.
“Me! A bitch!” Your laugh echoes harshly in your ears. “Well I’m sorry for caring! I’m sorry that I didn’t believe Silco’s sorry attempt to assure me everything’s okay after calling me in a panic yesterday. I’m sorry for worrying that something is going to happen to him or Jinx, and that I won’t know what’s going on because he won’t tell me what’s happening!”
She stares you down hard as you pant, eyes wild.
“Why the hell do you think Silco gave you a gun in the first place?”
“So I wouldn’t be a liability.”
She scoffs. “A liability? Are you for real right now?”
“Yes, I’m being for real!”
“Do I really need to spell it out for you?”
“That would be nice, actually!”
“He gave you the gun because he loves you, you fucking idiot!”
You glare at her.
“I can’t believe you!” She seethes, and starts to pace. “Either of you! How the hell did I get stuck with the most stupid… I mean I sent you that video, for chrissake! I told you I wouldn’t waste my time unless it was a goddamn fact! And don’t even get me started about Silco. You told him you loved him to his fucking face, and he still refuses to believe it.”
Your ire is completely lost in confusion.
Silco still doesn’t believe you? Even after you told him you loved him?
Twice?
“You want me to spell it out for you? Fine. You think Silco gave you the gun for his and Jinx’s safety? Because he was worried about himself? No. If he was worried about himself, he wouldn’t have wasted his money buying you a gun, or told me and Thomas to abandon our jobs to train you. Silco gave you the goddam gun because he was worried about you. Because he. Fucking. Loves. You.”
“But… he’s never said. I mean he’s never told me…”
“That he loves you?” She looks tired. “Yeah, well, newsflash sweetheart. Silco doesn’t even tell Jinx that he loves her.”
“Never?”
“Never. But he tells her she’s perfect. He makes sure she takes self-defense classes. He forces her to go to therapy. He makes sure she’s protected. If that ain’t love, then I don’t know what is.”
It's a flash of lightening. An epiphany.
Love is an action. You know this, and both your mother and Allie have told you how your their men make them feel loved without words.
Maybe you should have recognized it earlier, or perhaps all you needed was Sevika’s charming way of cutting through bullshit to get you to really see it.
Perhaps Silco shows you his love by his actions.
Perhaps he loves you with all but words.