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Orphans are a fact of life in Zaun. Parents killed by enforcers, by drugs, by petty crime and violence and disease and work and the air and the food and and and. Whatever the reason, there have always been orphans running around the streets of the undercity. Sometimes, they come in waves. The failed civil war against Topside that took Jinx and Vi’s first parents. When Silco first released shimmer on the Lanes. More, probably, dating back to the birth of the slums and traveling forward to whatever fresh hell awaits the pitious fools who call Zaun home.
Most orphans stay that way. Not enough adults with spare food for an extra mouth to feed. Kids grow up, become orphaned adults, who never seem to count as “true” orphans somehow. Sometimes, however, an orphan latches onto an adult. Jinx remembers how she and Vi clung to Vander on the bridge, how Milo and Claggor joined later. She remembers the rain as she clung to Silco, the second time she became an orphan.
By the time Jinx was orphaned the third time, she was too old to be a true orphan. Even if she wasn’t, there was no one else to attach herself to. Not that anyone would let her. Two outta three times were her own fault, after all. Not even the most desperate of gamblers would take such shit odds.
Still. Jinx knew the system. Which is why, when the world decided to quite literally drop a kid on her, she couldn’t even bring herself to be surprised.
***
“This won’t end well for you, kid.”
The girl shrugged a shoulder. Jinx couldn’t tell if it’s intentional or because it hurt to move her other arm. Getting something shot out of your hand, even if the bullet never touched you, hurts. So does getting a finger shot off, apparently. Speaking of, Jinx let out a hiss and tried to pull her hand away from Sevika, who was tending to it.
“Quit whining,” Sevika snapped. “It’s just a finger, not like you lost your whole arm.” The gears in her arm twisted and hissed, accentuating her point.
“Wouldn’t kill you to be more gentle.”
“Wouldn’t’ve killed you to give this thing some fingers.”
“Aww, where’s the fun in that?”
Sevika didn’t answer, just rolled her eyes. The three of them were in Silco’s office, having finally reached after hours in the tunnels. Sevika had insisted on going there and tending to Jinx’s many injuries, Jinx couldn’t bring herself to care enough to argue with her, and the kid had followed silently. Well, not followed so much as clung to Jinx and refused to let go. Which had been a pain for climbing out the tunnels, since on top of losing a finger, Jinx had gotten pretty badly beaten. The girl had only let go once they were inside, retreating to a dark corner and watching silently.
“There,” Sevika said, letting go of Jinx’s hand. “Keep the bandage on until it heals, the last thing we need is you getting an infection. Give it a few days before you start attaching a gun to it or something.”
“Whatever.”
“What about you, kid? You hurt?” Sevika asked, turning her attention to the girl. She gave another half shrug, the same shoulder. Jinx sighed, rolled off the desk she’d been sitting on and sauntered over to her.
“Show me.”
The girl hesitated, then held out her hand. Jinx reached forward to grab it, then stopped herself. Instead, she moved her head, looking at the small hand from different angles without touching it. Bruises were already starting to show, but it didn’t look too bad. Jinx was more concerned about the girl’s shoulder, which would have taken the brunt of the force. She reached towards it, hesitating, watching the girl’s face, asking for permission. The girl nodded, a tiny movement, and whimpered when Jinx’s hand touched her shoulder. Jinx felt carefully, assessing the damage, then sat back.
“Your shoulder’s just wrenched, you didn’t dislocate it. It’ll heal on its own, it’ll just hurt in the meanwhile. Like I said, this isn’t gonna end well for you. It’s already going shit.”
There was the scrape of a chair on the floor behind her, Sevika standing up. Jinx ignored her, keeping her eyes on the girl.
“Who the hell are you, anyway? Got a name?”
The girl hesitated, then reached up and removed her helmet. She fiddled with it for a second, then passed it to Jinx, fingers lingering on the inner seam. Jinx took it, careful not to let their fingers touch. She inspected the helmet, finding a tag with four letters stitched in loving detail.
“Isha? That it?” The girl, Isha, noded. Jinx scoffed, placing the hat back on her head. “Well, it’ll do for now, at least. Doesn’t need to stick. Names change. Everything does.”
Isha adjusted her hat, twisting it so the goggles faced the front. She looked at Jinx, eyebrows furrowed, head cocked slightly to one side, questioning.
“What, you think my parents named me Jinx? No, Jinx found me. Or maybe I found her? Doesn’t matter. Like I said, things change.” Jinx patted Isha’s helmet and walked back to the desk. Sevika, leaning against the wall by the door, watched as Jinx sprawled out on the desk, one leg dangling off the edge. After a few seconds, small, quick footsteps came over, and Isha appeared at her side. The young girl climbed up next to Jinx and laid down next to her. In the silence that followed, Jinx tried very hard not to think about Silco.
There was the click of a lighter, a measured drag and a heavy sigh, the smell of cigar wafted around the room.
“Doesn’t say much, does she,” Sevika said after a few more puffs. “I take it you’re keeping her?”
“Not like she gave me the choice. Nearly died for me, guess that means I owe her my life or some shit.”
“Great. Another brat to take care of.” Sevika’s voice held none of its usual bite, and Jinx propped herself up on one elbow to glare at her. Isha sat up, wide honey eyes moving between the two women.
“She can take care of herself. Probably. Can you?”
Isha shrugged.
“She can learn.”
Isha grinned.