Archive of Our Own

Jinx knows what Isha's going to do before the kid grabs the gun. 

She's spent… months around the kid. Long enough to pick up on the subtleties in ways most would struggle with; the flickering look in her eyes, the steeled resolve, and the way Isha's hands tremble as she picks herself up, ducking through the screaming crowds as best she knows. 

Jinx knows what Isha wants to do, and it horrifies her. 

Big fat hero. All Isha has done in the time she's been in Jinx's life is copy her, follow her around and mimic her every move; it was endearing, because Jinx honestly did not know of a single other person in this entire world that would find her worth following around. It was endearing until Jinx remembered that some parts of her aren't worth remembering, and this… 

… no. Nobody else is allowed to die for her. She can't– she won't be able to handle it, won't be able to control herself. No. 

Jinx ducks under Vi's outreached hand, slides through the dirt with shimmer-laced agility. "Isha!" she calls out, and when the girl looks at her with her own gun in hand, Jinx shakes her head, willing herself forwards as fast as possible until she's glitching through space itself, landing in front of the girl she's been calling her friend. "Hey," she gasps, swiping for the gun. "What have I told you about playing with fire, huh?" 

Isha shakes her head too, tears pricking at her eyes as she clutches to the gun, whimpering when Jinx tears it from her hands. 

"You're a smart kid, so you gotta promise me you'll do the smart thing," Jinx tells her, voice trembling as she holds the gun up, far out of Isha's reach, her free hand caressing Isha's cheek fondly. "Vi will help you out, she's good at looking out for people, kay?" 

Isha shakes her head again, her own hands flying in signs that Jinx barely has the presence of mind to read. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. 

"You're my better half," Jinx whispers, and she uses the last bit of strength she has to scoop Isha into her arms, sprinting back to where she left Vi and the enforcer chick. Vi's eyes are dull, pained, the enforcer holding her upright, and neither one of them flinch when Jinx shoves Isha into the pile that they've made– though Vi's gaze snaps to hers. 

Isha screams wordlessly, a choked cry that echoes through Jinx's head as she turns around before she can change her mind, pistol back firmly in her hands. "Big fat hero," she whispers to herself, and she lunges forwards, charging into the smoke and dust that swirls around the beast that was once her father. 

Vander does not recognize her anymore, but he is still her dad all the same, and Jinx chuckles to herself. I killed him before, she thinks regretfully, fitting that I'm the one to kill him again, right? 

The voices in her head are, for once, painfully silent as Jinx slides into the embrace of her father, lets claws wrap her in the semblance of a hug – claws tear into her skin, teeth come gnashing towards her head, this beast wants her dead – and smiles, a single tear slipping down her cheek. 

"Big fat hero," she repeats, and she tilts her gun upwards, finger squeezing the trigger as her eyes slip close. 

Everything glitches, and her vision whites out. 

The last thing she hears, as the world around her dissipates, is the pained cry of her own name. 

~~ 

In the aftermath of an explosion that rocks the entire encampment, Caitlyn pulls the woman she once saw a future with out of the rubble. 

Curled in her arms, protected from the blast, is the small frame of the kid Caitlyn had, once, nearly shot at just to prove a point, just to get revenge. 

If she had gone through with it – if she had killed the kid right then and there – would they be here in this situation right now? It's a dark, fucked up, cruel thing to wish, but as tears slip down Vi's cheeks – even in her unconscious state – and the kid wriggles free of the arms that kept her pinned down and runs towards the blast range, only stopping when the other guards block her path… 

…Caitlyn just cannot help but wonder how the fuck they got here. 

"Help her," she orders, gesturing at her guards to grab the kid as she herself kneels besides Vi, presses a hand into the gash staining her skin, a choked sob escaping her. She can't die here. I haven't apologized for anything. I haven't proven that I'm the person she saw, not the monster grief made me. Please, please don't die. Please. 

It's all she can think about, even as she's pulled away, even as her own people take Vi without any of the kindness that Caitlyn herself would offer, carry her away, with Caitlyn barking orders at them, begging them to take care of her, please, please take care of her. 

As for the kid… 

When the dust settles, and Vi is placed lovingly in Caitlyn's own bed to heal, she carves out some extra space, sits the kid down. The kid does not look happy to be here – considering the last time the two saw each other almost ended in her death, Caitlyn supposes she can't blame her – but she also does not leave, crying to herself and often curling up at Vi's side, so terribly small, so terribly afraid. 

Caitlyn doesn't know what she's doing, but for the first time since her mother died, that doesn't scare her. We'll figure this out, she promises the unconscious Vi. I swear it. 

~~ 

Jinx snaps awake with a gasp. 

Where the fuck am I? Last she could remember, she was… dying, surely she was dying. She had aimed her own gun at Vander, had tensed in anticipation for the explosion; there would be no Silco coming to her rescue, no amount of shimmer in her system could prevent her from vaporizing, it would finally, finally be the death she deserved. 

So why is she here? 

Jinx rubs at her eyes, her nose twitching as she squints around at unfamiliar surroundings. Her head is pounding, but it also feels… lighter, like she's missing a weight she's far-too-used to carrying around. 

Slowly, she stands, testing the way it feels. She doesn't… feel dead. No, every sensation is the same burning agony that had accompanied her when she was alive, so she thinks she might be alive still, which would be a major bummer considering how sure she was that this time would be it. 

Then, she pauses. Raises a hand to her head, finds her hair pulled up in buns, not nearly long enough to be her own. 

What the fuck? 

The door to… wherever the fuck she is swings open, and Jinx flinches at the sudden light that illuminates her surroundings; she's in a bedroom, that's for sure, but it's not one she thinks she's ever seen before. A figure looms in the frame of the door, but then he steps into the light and familiar, kind eyes catch Jinx's own and she gasps. 

Vander. 

It is not the monster that Jinx literally just exploded with her gun, nor the man that haunts her memories, stained purple and laying broken in the wreckage of everything good in her life. No, it's just Vander, just the man himself, and he frowns at the way Jinx stares at him mouth agape, rubbing his head sheepishly. "Morning, Powder," he greets, still frowning. "What are you looking at me like that for? Did I grow an extra arm overnight?" 

"You're alive," Jinx rasps, and she takes a small step forwards, blinking rapidly. If this isn't real, please, do something. This can't be real. There's no way– 

"-Powder?" Vander closes the meager distance between them, a hand reaching out to gently cusp Jinx's cheek. The touch is warm, which means it's real, and Jinx… 

…she doesn't know… 

Tears form in her eyes before she's even aware of it, and then Vander's tugging her into his arms, rubbing her back comfortingly as she squeezes her eyes shut. It's so warm, and his arms are so tight around her, and there's no way she could envision someone hugging her so nicely but there's also no way that any of this is real. 

If this is a dream, it's the most fucked up nightmare I've ever had, she thinks to herself, even as she cries there in Vander's arms like she's eleven again. If this is a dream, please don't let me wake up. 

"Have another nightmare, kiddo?" Vander says softly when Jinx pulls away, her eyes burning. 

"Something like that," she whispers right back, wincing at the way her voice cracks not with the exhaustion she feels in her soul but with the weight of her emotions, fragile and new as they are. 

"Perhaps some fresh air will do you good," Vander tells her, and he claps his hand against her back, nudging her forwards. "Ekko's waiting for ya, you know." 

Ekko? Jinx has not thought about Ekko since… well, probably since their fight on the bridge. Anger burns like acid in her stomach, bubbling through her veins– but she swallows around it, because the last thing she wants to do is upset Vander, not again, she can't handle doing that again. 

Instead, she just nods, forcing an awkward laugh. "Right, right, right. Ekko's… waiting for me. At…" 

"...are you feeling alright?" Vander's hand shifts upwards, now pressing against Jinx's forehead, and he frowns. "You don't feel ill, but you're acting strange." 

"I'm fine!" Jinx insists, and she steps back, brushing her own hands against unfamiliar fabric– in her immediate panic upon feeling her hair and seeing Vander, she hadn't even realized that she was wearing new clothes too. "Just… you were right, nightmare's got me frazzled, whoopsy daisy, now I gotta go." 

Vander blinks, but he doesn't protest when Jinx scoots around him, speeding through the room with her heart pacing in her chest. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck? 

The world pulses, her vision and hearing both blurring as Jinx shoves her way into the front of… The Last Drop, except it is nothing like the bar that she remembers. Tables are all set up, the lights are bright, and what few people linger are… happy. Truly, genuinely happy. 

Everything blurs around her, landscapes melting into paintings as she shoves her elbow into the door, pushes out into an undercity she does not recognize, a Zaun she has never seen before, vibrant and joyous and alive. 

People call out to each other with joy, recognition, smiles on their faces instead of pain, drawing each other in instead of pushing away. Jinx presses a hand to her head, grits her teeth, and ignores the way the gazes drawn to her match the way her own voices like to stare, if only her voices thought of her as someone who belonged the way these people so clearly do. 

She doesn't know where to find Ekko in this world, and quite frankly, she couldn't give a flying fuck about Ekko, not when her own Ekko is… 

…is… 

(The way he looks at her, chest heaving, something alight in his eyes. She thought he would kill her; his fists had certainly done enough damage, her face hot and wet, her nose surely broken. She thought he would kill her, but instead he just stares, panting for breath, his gaze widening ever so slightly– in horror, in realization, in the same heavy set, damned pity that every single person who still mourns Powder has when they look at her. 

She couldn't bear it. If he wasn't going to kill her, she would just get rid of them both. Two dumb, naive, Zaunite birds with one colorful stone. No more saviors or jinxes, just release. 

The bomb fell from her hands. His gaze shifted to it, and that panic settled right back in. 

"Pew," she whispers, so low she's sure he doesn't hear it. 

The bomb goes off, and she slips into bliss; and yet, still, his gaze haunts her. She might never forget that look). 

…no, she doesn't give a flying fuck about the Ekko who lives in this wonderful, magical world where Vander is alive and Zaun is whole. What would he do if he found out that she had killed him in another world? What would any of them do? 

Who the fuck cares, Jinx thinks sourly, shuffling her feet as she slips into the vents at her favorite entry point, letting her feet carry her through familiar tunnels. If they haven't given up on me yet in this messed up dream, I'm sure I'll screw it up soon. 

Maybe I'll leave some monkey bombs laying around, to remind them. 

Maybe I'll introduce them to PowPow. 

Maybe I'll– 

–her train of thought stops as she finally arrives to… well, what used to be her lair, except that clearly in this delusion she had made some changes. Rails block off the whole long fall down into the abyss, lights string across the paths, and Jinx frowns as she swings around and runs right into a familiar, solid chest. 

Ekko. 

Well, there goes that plan. 

"Powder," Ekko greets, and though Vander had used the name earlier, Jinx has to fight the urge to scowl or roll her eyes. "There you are, I was getting worried." 

The entire lair is covered in papers, littering each physical space. 

In the corner, pink catches Jinx's eye, and she turns away from Ekko, drawn towards the portrait like a magnet being pulled in a singular direction. Vi, she thinks, and the thought of her sister makes something hard and lumpy form in her chest. 

The Vi in the portrait is… young. It's the Vi that Jinx is the most familiar with, the one that abandoned her that night– and the one that protected her time and time again before it. The incense sticks around the portrait suggest… well. Jinx doesn't like what it suggests. 

How many times do I have to ask where the fuck am I before I get an answer? 

A hand clasps Jinx's shoulder, and she flinches, jerking away from the touch just to see soft eyes staring back at her, Ekko's expression twisted in pitying concern. "Hey," he says quietly, fondly. "One of those days, huh? Want me to get a lighter?" 

"I would love to burn shit up," Jinx agrees, but then she frowns, pulling away from Ekko entirely. "Huh, maybe you know what's going on. Am I dead?" 

Ekko pauses, and then he frowns, squinting at her with that stupid fucking pity. "What?" 

"I mean, it'd be fitting," Jinx laughs, gesturing around her. "Ole Jinxy never could get a normal afterlife; no, it'd make sense that I'd get to see the faces of everyone I've messed up. Like I don't already see them enough!" 

Ekko's nose wrinkles, and he leans back into Jinx's space, his gaze peering right into her, brows furrowing. "...Jinx?" he whispers, so softly she nearly doesn't catch it. 

But she does catch it. And she laughs, tilting her head up and cackling into the empty, echoing space above them. "Someone got the name right!" she cackles, hysteria bubbling up in her chest as the weight of… whatever is happening here settles over her. "So tell me, wonder boy, what are you gonna do to me? Beat me up again?" 

"Jinx, I'm not…" Ekko takes a deep breath, and he takes a step back, shaking his head. "I can't believe you're here," he mutters. "Okay, okay. You're from… the other world, right?" 

"Someone sounds like he has a few screws loose in the ole noggin," Jinx says, and she leans over the railing, right where the form of Mylo usually hangs out– he's being oddly quiet now. "Talking about other worlds. And they all think I'm the crazy one." 

Ekko makes a frustrated noise, and he darts forwards, his hand closing around Jinx's wrist and pulling her away from the railing, holding her so tightly she would have to actually try to get out of the grasp. "Answer the damn question," he hisses, his tone going low, deadly. "We fought at the bridge." It's a statement, a fact. 

Jinx only laughs again, squirming a little as Ekko's grip on her tightens. Tightens. He's physically holding her, so he must be real. 

How… 

"Somehow, you jumped through the same anomaly I did, to get pulled here," Ekko says, like that makes any sense, like Jinx has any clue what he's talking about. "So now you're in Powder's body like I took over the original Ekko. Shit." 

"Seriously, dude, you sound like a lunatic; I would know," Jinx tells him, and she squirms a little harder, trying to step away from Ekko as he stares daggers into her. "What are you saying? This place is… what? Some other world where everything is fine and dandy?" 

"Not everything," Ekko says, when she thought he would disagree with her, "but mostly, yeah. I think it's a warning, a wake up call." 

"I think you're crazy and I'm dead," Jinx says blithely, "because that's what happens when you blow yourself up. You die! At least, you're supposed to. Dunno why I seem to be the one exception." 

"You're not dead," Ekko insists, and he tugs Jinx back towards him, his other hand settling on her free arm, grip on her going lax even as he keeps her still, perfectly in place. "And neither am I, I don't think. I survived the bridge, if that's why you think otherwise." 

Survived the bridge. Blasts like stars flutter across her vision, and she shakes her head, clearing her vision with a desperate inhale. "I don't understand," she says, and it comes out in a hoarse whisper. "If I'm not dead, how are they here?" 

"We're in another timeline, I'm telling you," Ekko squeezes her hands and Jinx flinches– he drops them immediately, finally giving her the opportunity to flee if she wanted and yet… "it's not a perfect world, and… and I think they need us, back home. I've been trying to get back. Will you help me?" 

Jinx tears herself away, backing up until her hands are brushing the railing once more, keeping her steady even as her ankles dip over the edge. "Me? Go back? Help?" She laughs again, the hysteria spilling out as those maniacal cackles turn to desperate, heaving gasps. "Oh, you've really lost it now! Who in their right mind would ever want me to help them?" 

Isha would, a small voice whispers in the back of Jinx's mind; it sounds, suspiciously, like Vi. Who are you kidding, sis? 

You're not dead, Jinx thinks back viciously, so leave me the fuck alone. 

"I'm serious!" Ekko insists, and he reaches back out, takes Jinx's hands in his own again even as her back bends over the railing, trying so hard to get away from him. "Look. I know things between us… didn't end great, but we can fix it! We can fix them. Don't you want to go back, see Vi?" 

For some reason, that gives her pause. Jinx sneaks a glance over at the portrait of her sister, forever memorialized at the age of sixteen, and she frowns. "Vi… Vi's not in this world, is she?" 

Ekko grimaces, and then he shakes his head, the corners of his eyes creasing the way he does when he gets sad on someone else's behalf. "No. She's dead. That's why things are so different here." 

"Oh, is that the reason?" Jinx scoffs, and she shoves forwards, pushing her way past Ekko, past the fenced-in pathways no longer familiar to her, and she drops down in front of the cushions; in another life, this would be where she entertained little Isha, tried her best to be the sister that she had wanted her entire life. "You really expect me to believe that the world would be better off with my sister dead?" Against her own will, her voice–cracks. 

Ekko winces, the sharp inhale audible to her even as she turns away from him, curls into pillows that are not hers and yet are so distinctly something she would bring to her hideout if she ever gave a damn about her own comfort. "That's not what I meant," he says quietly, remorsefully; Jinx still doesn't really believe him. "Just that it led to change. But she's not here, and we can… we can save her. I know it." 

"Go away, Ekko," Jinx tells him, curling her own arms around her head. "This is… too much, it's too much. Get out of here." 

"I don't want to leave you," Ekko says. 

"Go!" Jinx yells. 

There must be something different in her voice, when she screams. The world around her glitches, the voices – quiet as they have been – whispering around her as she hears Ekko take a step back, and then another. He was always cowed by her when she tried; just one more reason they could never work out, one more reason he would always be the biggest failure ever created by the undercity. 

Well, second biggest failure, she thinks with a giggle, they still got me, after all. 

The footsteps echo around the space until they fade entirely, and then Jinx is alone in her hideout for the first time in what feels like ages. She didn't realize how much she'd miss Isha's laughter until it was missing, how badly she'd want to see Sevika until the possibility was ripped away from her. 

You could go see Vander, a voice suggests. This Vander certainly seems to love you. 

Maybe he doesn't know what a screw up you are, another voice says, what, you think he won't kick you to the curb if he knew the truth? 

I bet you caused Vi's death in this world, a third voice whispers, I bet you've been keeping it hidden, your best kept secret; but no skeleton can rot in your closet forever. Why don't you just admit it? 

Jinx screams, and she reaches to her side, closes her fist around a pillow, and throws it as hard as she can. The pillow goes sailing through the air, right over the railing and into the abyss below. It's almost beautiful, watching the remnants of a girl that is not and cannot be her disappear, watching a calm space turn violent so quick, so fast. 

You'll always be a jinx, Vi's voice says, and Jinx releases another strangled scream, grabbing for another pillow and flinging it as far away from her as she can muster. She doesn't have the shimmer running through her veins here, so her arms flail pitifully, her strength lacking now that it is not supernaturally enhanced. 

She didn't think she'd miss the drug until she stepped back into a body that lacked it. Pitiful. 

Jinx curls her head into what remains of the quiet space, and she sobs quietly, squeezing her eyes closed. I don't know what to do. What the fuck do I do? Do I help Ekko? Do I stay here? 

Do I deserve to stay here? 

It haunts her, haunts her, haunts her, until her heart can no longer bear the weight, and she slips off into blissful slumber, her hands still covering her face, hair untied and loose around her shoulders. 

The dilemma, the questions she has, will simply have to wait for tomorrow's Jinx. 

~~ 

When Vi wakes, she is not alone. 

Everything hurts; her head aching under the strain of waking, her ribs bruised and battered, and the gaping cut in her side, one that she hadn't even noticed until she had nearly collapsed. 

For a moment, one blissful, peaceful moment, she doesn't remember how she ended up here. 

Then, it all floods back. 

Vander, eyes turning orange with no recognition, roaring and swiping at them. 

Ambessa's people, the Noxians, swarming the encampment, turning a peaceful place into a slaughterhouse. 

Caitlyn, leaning over her, keeping her steady and on her feet. 

Jinx, shoving Isha at her, the child tumbling into Vi's arms even though Vi herself could hardly stand. 

The look in Jinx's eyes as she turned back around, and the way Isha screamed wordlessly, reaching out for her even as Jinx charged forwards. 

And then… 

and then… 

Vi gasps, dragging herself upright even as her chest protests at the movement. With blurry eyes, she scans her surroundings, her heart dropped into her stomach. 

She's in Caitlyn's room– how, she doesn't know, but she supposes it doesn't surprise her. Once, the thought of ending up in Caitlyn's bed would've thrilled her, but after everything that's happened, it just makes her chest ache again: this time out of emotional heartbreak rather than the physical wound. 

There's a weight against her legs, and when she looks down, she finds a mop of blue hair curled up at the end of her bed. Jinx? No, it's not Jinx, it's Isha, snoozing so peacefully against Vi's legs, tiny and out of place and so, so frail. 

The room is, otherwise, empty. Vi winces, and then she carefully tears her legs away from Isha, watching as the child shifts. Isha blinks wide, amber eyes up at her, and they immediately well with tears, the girl lunging upwards and wrapping tiny arms around Vi's chest in an instant. 

If there was any bad blood between them from the previous fights, the girl certainly didn't act upon it; and Vi, after watching the girl interact with Jinx, watching how close they were and how protective Jinx was of her… 

…it does sting, a little, seeing herself get replaced so neatly. That stinging, though, is accompanied with a fondness that Vi had never expected; my little sister found herself a baby sister too. Look at us. One twisted, messed up family. 

But as Isha cries into her chest, shaking with the weight of the sobs, Vi thinks about Jinx and her eyes go wide. 

Wait. 

Where the fuck is Jinx? 

Last she remembered… last she remembered was Jinx charging towards Vander, gun in hand, and Isha calling out for her. What happened after that? Where did Jinx go? 

"What happened?" Vi whispers, hoarsely, her voice cracking as she clumsily lifts a hand to pet at Isha's hair, tangling into stained blue strands. "Where did she go?" 

Isha tilts her head up to meet Vi's gaze with watery eyes, and then her entire expression crumples, her shoulders heaving a little harder as she collapses back into Vi's chest and sobs even harder. 

Oh. 

No, that can't be possible, please, no– 

Vi inhales one ragged, sharp breath, and then the door is swinging open and Cait, beautiful Cait, torturous Cait is walking in, her eyes lighting up in the facsimile of relief when she sees Vi propped up in her bed. "Vi, you're up," she says, her tone steeped in that same relief. "Oh, you should take it easy though, you were–" 

"-cut the crap," Vi interrupts, and the hand still petting Isha's hair tightens. "Cait. What happened. Where's my sister." 

Cait winces, and her face falls as she bites at her lip in a way that Vi once found endearing. "I… I'm sorry," she says, and yet the sympathy in her voice also betrays the pity and, buried deeper behind it, the confliction. "The explosion… it disintegrated even Noxian soldiers who got too close. Nobody could survive that." 

"She's gone then," Vi breathes, and she gasps for breath as something wells up inside of her chest. We were so close. I was so close to having my Powder back, I was so close–! "Congratulations, cupcake. You finally got what you wanted, huh?" 

In her arms, Isha sniffs, her sobs slowing as she clutches to what little fabric covers Vi's skin. She's glaring at Cait, Vi realizes, and she snorts; she can't really blame the kid. 

"If you think I'm happy about this, I'm not," Caitlyn says, and she tries, oh she tries so hard to soften her voice, soften her tone, soften her eyes, but Vi refuses to fall for the act anymore; she can't let herself get hurt again. Not now. Not when she had been so fucking close. "But she made the choice to save you. To save us. I'm willing to put… everything she did behind me, to pardon her crimes post-humorously so that the world can properly mourn, okay?"

"You think that's enough?" Vi laughs something broken and hollow. "We only went there cause she was being hunted. Because of you and the other pigs in your fucking barn. No, if you want to make it up to me, if you really want my forgiveness, you better try harder." 

Caitlyn winces, but she doesn't get that angry look that Vi had seen in her before; instead, she just looks resigned. "I will," she says, and she might mean it as a promise but Vi knows her promises are as worthless as the air vents in Zaun; a placating gesture and nothing more, a measly slap in the face apology for temporarily solving a problem they caused in the first place. 

As they stare at each other, locked in eternal stalemate, it hits her all over again. Jinx is gone, she thinks, and something bubbles up inside of her; the familiar shape of grief, etching its mark back into her soul, carving out space where she thought she was already emptied out and left to dry. Powder's gone. My sister is gone. 

"Go away." It is soft, because if Vi dares speak any louder she thinks she might break. "Please." 

"The doctor will be here soon to check on your stitches," Caitlyn warns, but then she's stepping away, tail between her legs and shoulders hunched over, and Vi cannot bring herself to care that the girl she could've, could've loved in another life is feeling sorrowful for her actions. Not when they led here. 

Isha shifts in Vi's arms, and then she's staring up at her blearily, her soft eyes full of that familiar grief and something else; adoration. Even though Vi had tried to hurt Jinx in front of her, even though Vi had hurt her… Isha was here, the last remnant of her sister in this world, looking up to Vi the same way Powder used to look up to her, and Vi swallows around a sob, curls her fingers into Isha's hair a little tighter. 

"It's just you and me now, kid," she mutters, squeezing her eyes shut as they prick with tears. "Just you and me." 

Isha makes a small, whimpering sound, but her eyes are slipping close as she drifts back off to sleep, and Vi, unable to wipe her own tears away, unable to think about anything except that her sister is gone, gone, gone and she couldn't do a thing about it except hold this smaller, more fragile version of her tight in her arms, just shifts the blanket to cover them both, breathing around the burning weight in her chest until it settles into something more manageable. 

~~ 

It takes far longer than she'd like to get used to this world. 

Jinx drags herself back to the Last Drop and runs right into Mylo and Claggor; the former catching her arm and twirling her around and the latter offering her a bright smile and a cheery good morning, Powder! before Jinx has the time to comprehend what she's seeing at all. 

Mylo's face glitches with the visage of the boy who has been haunting her for seven years, but he's still holding her arm and his head tilts, eyes scrunching in concern, when she doesn't respond to his beckoning my lady and instead just stares at him with wide eyes. Everything alright, Pow-Pow? he asks, and Jinx swallows down a sob, shakes her head, and buries her face into his chest, just to hear the heartbeat that awaits her there, the warmth of hands wrapped around her slim figure and holding her where they might've once pushed her away. 

Silco, too, is alive here; Jinx doesn't see him, not at first, but Vander has a photo pinned to the wall of the Last Drop's office. It's her, and him, and Silco, standing together like the happy family they never could be in her own world, smiling and so free and so painstakingly different. 

She had wanted to tear that photo down and burn it, when she first slipped into the office. Before she had a chance, though, Vander had joined her, a hand on her back, steady and soothing, and she had just melted into the touch instead. 

Vi is not here though. Jinx catches the story in bits and pieces, in the shrine she keeps for a sister who does not exist in this world, in the way she catches people staring at her– not in fear, like they might have in her own world, but in concern, in pity. 

Did'ya hear about the one with the dead sister? she tells her sister's stern face once, laying flat on her back in her hideout, staring up at the ceiling. They say she's lost her marbles! You know what I say? I say she's just a powder keg bout to explode. Get it? Powder keg? 

The version of herself that exists here, Powder, seems happy. Jinx doesn't understand how she could ever be happy without Vi in her life. She doesn't understand how she didn't drown in the guilt that surely would've overtaken her. 

She doesn't understand… a lot. 

Still, as the days turn into weeks and nothing ever changes, she has the slow, dawning realization that… well, it seems like Ekko was right. This wasn't just her own personal hell, her own afterlife, nor was it one of her delusion-induced fever dreams; no, it was real. 

Don't you want to go back? Ekko's voice rings in her head, and Jinx presses her hands to her ears, tries to block it out the only way she knows how. You could save her. 

"Vi's fine," she whispers to herself, when the weeks have dragged and she hasn't seen one hair on Ekko's head since she first found him in this place, and she had to run here because Vander was starting to get worried about her and the last thing Jinx wants is for them to realize she's not the Powder they all know and love and instead she's just the fuck-up who got them killed in another world, because if they know the truth they will leave her and everyone always leaves her but for once Jinx is just not ready to let it go, she's not. "I mean, not here, but back home she's fine, she's gotta be fine. Right?" 

You left her knowing she was stabbed, the voices taunt. You left her injured with the enforcer you hate so bad. You left her with Isha. 

Isha… Isha doesn't exist in this world either; at least, not the version of the kid that Jinx knows so well, though she doesn't doubt that the kid exists out there somewhere. She's just happy, she probably still has parents, she doesn't need Jinx like she did in her own world. Is that better or worse? To not be needed? 

"Ekko doesn't need my help anyways," she says, laughing nervously as the space around her starts glitching weird again. "He's probably got it all figured out, and then he'll leave and I can be free of it all. Can't I just stay here and be free of it all? Who needs little ole me back home, anyways?" 

Coward, the voices say. Jinx's laugh turns hollow, broken, and she curls around herself, breathing deeply. 

"It's not that I don't want to go back!" she yells, waving her hand in the air like it might chase off the voices. "I do want to go back, I miss… I miss Isha, I miss Vi. But they don't need me. " 

They don't need you, the voices reaffirm. Your one attempt to reunite your family, to save Vander, to fix things with Vi, and what happened? It blew up in your face. Literally. 

"That wasn't my fault," Jinx's voice breaks, and she sniffs, rolling over to lay flat on her back once more. "I'm not the one who made things go crazy back there, isn't that such insanity? That for once, it wasn't me screwing things over? And I– I fixed it. I saved them. Why go back now?" 

Why go back at all? the voices grow louder, even despite Jinx's attempts to block them out. They've probably already moved on. Vi will be a better sister for Isha than you ever could manage; she was such a good sister for you, after all, and how did you repay her? 

"Vi left me," Jinx snaps. 

Vi recognized you for the lost cause you are. Isha has so much more potential; more than you do. They'll be together and closer than you will ever manage, why go back and ruin such a good thing? 

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" With the last word, Jinx picks up something next to her and throws it as hard as she can, watching it spiral and then disappear into the inky black darkness. 

Then, something moves, and Jinx sits upright, eyes wide in panic. "Who's there?" she demands, groping around her space for something, anything she could use to defend herself and only finding a wrench, which she points out as threateningly as she can manage. 

"Woah, woah, it's just me," Ekko's voice rings out, and he steps into the light. Now that Jinx knows she's landed in some strange alternate reality, she's able to see how different Ekko is here; his features are more refined, his hair a bit longer and pulled back into a ponytail, his eyes a little softer even as he gazes at her like she's not the monster that ruined his life back home. "Vander said I might find you back here." 

Jinx laughs that broken, hollow laugh again, and she turns away from him, flopping back down and curling around herself once more. "What do you want, Ekko?"

"I just want to talk to you," Ekko says, and she can hear his footsteps echoing through the abandoned building, each plink plink growing closer and closer to her spot curled up on the ground. "Vander's worried." 

"Oh is he now?" Jinx snorts, and she buries her face into her arms, makes herself as small as physically possible. "Listen, if you've come just to lecture me, you're wasting your time." 

"It's not just that." Ekko pauses, and then the ground next to her creaks with added weight, the air shifting with Ekko's presence in her space. "Can't I be worried about an old friend?" 

"Old friends? Is that what we are?" Jinx laughs again, and she squeezes her eyes shut, her head still buried. "We haven't been friends in a very long time. The person you were friends with is gone, Ekko." She's told him as much a million times, and yet… 

…her own words don't have as much bite as she can usually muster, the sentiment ringing hollow as for the first time in as long as she can remember, Jinx doesn't quite believe it. 

"I used to think so," Ekko admits. "But I think I was wrong, and for that I am… sorry. I gave up on you, and I don't think I ever should have." 

Jinx sniffs, and she slowly uncovers her face, twisting her body around so she can stare at him now; Ekko, who is sitting just next to her but not moving any further to get in her space, who is staring at her with those same fond eyes that she might've recognized from her childhood if the years hadn't turned them both into caricatures of the children they had once been. "You don't mean that," she deadpans, watching the way he winces at the flat tone of her words. "You just need my help and think this is the only way to get it." 

"I do need your help, but that's still not why I'm here," Ekko says, and he leans forwards, offers a hand– to help her up, pull her close, or push her away, Jinx is not sure. "It's true; you have the greatest mind that I've ever met, and your brilliance, your genius might be our only ticket back to our world. But I didn't come all this way to tell you what you already know, I came to… to apologize. I'm sorry, Jinx. For snapping at you before, for refusing to meet you where you were, all of it. I'm sorry." 

Jinx stares at him incredulously, and she shakes her head, something jagged pushing its way into her stomach. Why? Why now? Why him? 

You forgave Vi, a voice whispers– this time, it once again sounds like Vi, whispering to her with a gentleness that no other voice has ever had for her. And maybe you've forgotten, but you do care about Ekko. Why not help him out? You don't have to go back if you don't want to. 

Jinx shoves the voice away, shoves her own thoughts away, and then she reaches up with a shaky hand, taking the one offered to her and letting Ekko pull her upright, until they are face to face and closer than they've been in ages. 

"I'll help you," Jinx tells him, shivering as a breeze from the outside world hits her here. "Since you need me so bad."

"I do need you," Ekko agrees, completely serious. 

Jinx feels her face heat up, and she leans over, giving him a not-so-gentle shove against his shoulder. "Okay, wonder boy, stop flirting," she says teasingly, a desperate attempt to turn her own mortification against him. "I'll help you, but that doesn't mean I"m going to go with you. Got it?" 

"I wish you would," Ekko says, almost sadly, and he shoves her shoulder right back, playful instead of malicious. "But we have time. I'll convince you."

"Good luck with that, buster," Jinx tells him, and she stands, stretching her arms over her head as Ekko follows suit. "So, where do we begin?" 

Ekko smiles, and he takes Jinx's hand, leading her off and away; and for once, Jinx finds that she doesn't mind the warmth of it.

~~ 

As soon as she was able to stand on her own two feet, Vi dragged herself and Isha back to the undercity. 

Being there, in Cait's mansion… it would've been nice, once, but in the wake of everything they've both lost, it just feels weird now, stifling. No, Vi couldn't spend another day there, and seeing the way Isha's shoulders slump when they leave, her gait a little lighter, she's sure the kid feels the same. 

"Show me where you live?" Vi whispers to her, and Isha lights up, squeezes Vi's hand, and sets off back onto streets once familiar. 

Isha takes her through the vents, through tunnels, and onto the unstable, unusable motor of a machine that had not seen the light of day in years, covered in familiar scribbles and doodles, the mark of her sister left everywhere. It makes sense, Jinx hiding in the vents, but Vi hadn't expected it to feel so… so… 

Homey. 

Isha plops down on some blankets, staring up at Vi with big eyes; questioning and yet tinged in flecks of suspicion, desperate and pleading. Don't tell anyone about this place, her eyes are saying. 

"I won't tell," Vi promises, and she picks up the first stray thing she finds; a strange robotic animal, a mishmash of parts all sprayed in an array of different colors, bright and childlike and so, so painfully Powder it hurts. "So this is where the two of you lived, huh?" 

Isha nods, and she sniffs; she's stopped crying over the loss, they both have, but the sadness had never quite managed to leave her regardless.

"We're going to make this right, Isha," Vi promises her, and she sits down, curls one of Powder's – Jinx's – blankets around her shoulders, then draws one around Isha's too. "Zaun deserves better. I'm sorry I didn't see it before." 

Isha tilts her head, but she climbs into Vi's lap, tugging something free as she does so. The wanted poster comes flashing into Vi's gaze, a stark reminder of what exactly Jinx had been fighting for, what had pushed her to the extremes. 

"She's a symbol now, isn't she?" Vi muses, remembering the mural that she had seen, the people walking around her with hair streaked blue in defiance. "A martyr." 

Isha balls up the wanted poster in her small fists, and she gives a resolute nod, even as she glances almost warily at the bandages that still wrap around Vi's chest and arms; the only thing of Piltover she's carried down here with her. 

"If Cait wants my forgiveness, she'll help me make some changes," Vi decides, and she smiles at Isha; at least she has this, the child that Jinx had saved and clearly loved so much, a small spark of hope for a future that Vi could help build not just for her but for all of the children of Zaun. "Or else." 

Isha smiles, and she nuzzles into Vi's chest. Vi curls fingers into her hair, tilts her head back, and sighs. 

It's not that she doesn't still love Caitlyn; quite the opposite. Somewhere in there, hidden behind the monster that grief makes of men, is the girl who broke Vi out of prison without knowing if Vi could actually help her, the woman who helped Vi find her sister, the loving hand that pulled her out of darkness and helped her find herself when she had spent far too long trapped in that suffocating dark. That Caitlyn is the person that Vi fell in love with, and Vi might be stubbornly, hopefully naive but she hopes, she prays that just as she put her own feelings aside to help Caitlyn process loss… 

…well, if Caitlyn loves her, Cait will do the same, won't she? 

Guess we'll see. 

Vi presses a kiss to Isha's forehead. I couldn't protect Powder, she thinks, but I can protect you. I can protect you, and it'll be my own damn choice to do so. 

~~ 

Jinx stares at the mirror in suspicion. 

For how long she's been stuck here, she hasn't quite gotten used to the sight of herself in this strange world; honestly, it was one of the biggest first indicators that something was wrong, or at least out of place. 

Her eyes are blue again, her skin is radiant, glowing with light in a way Jinx doesn't remember ever having before. Her hair is short, cropped to her shoulders– she found out very quickly that the Powder of this world usually tied it up in buns, and so she had tugged it into a ponytail to match Ekko's. It's not Powder, but it's not really Jinx either. 

Frowning, Jinx leans against the mirror, brushing her knuckles against the blotchy specks of freckles with a grimace. I don't know how I feel about having freckles, she thinks; it reminds her of Vi, in some weird, twisted, sick sort of way. But whatever. 

The door creaks open, and then a larger than life figure looms over her, a hand clasping her shoulder reflected by the mirror's surface. Jinx doesn't startle, but she does glance up into the mirror, pulling herself back so she can catch Vander's eye. "Hey," she mutters; all of this time, and she still finds herself at a loss for words when confronting the people she's lost in her own timeline. 

"Hey yourself," Vander greets in that stiff, gruff voice, full of warmth and kindness and everything that Jinx does not deserve from him. "Noticed you hadn't left, thought I'd stop and check in." 

Despite herself, hairs bristle along Jinx's neck, and she scoffs, turning away from the mirror to catch her father's gaze herself. "I'm fine," she insists; it's not a lie, not really. 

Vander just hums, and then he sits right next to her, the bench creaking; it had not been built to withstand the weight of two people, but Jinx could not care less if something that does not truly belong to her breaks. "You've always been so strong, so withdrawn," he says wistfully, "so resilient. But I don't want you forgetting that if something's bothering you, you can always tell me." 

Jinx shouldn't tell him anything. She shouldn't do anything. However, as Vander's arm curls around her shoulders ,tugging him into her side… she sucks in a breath, fiddles with her fingers– it still shocks her that she has all ten. 

"I've been having this dream," she says quietly, staring down at her own lap. "A dream where the… the blast that got Vi didn't just get Vi." It's close enough to the truth that her own voice trembles, her hands shaking even as she interlocks her fingers together over and over and over again. "And it was all my fault." 

"Powder," Vander says so gently, so kindly, Jinx has to close her eyes just to get away from how smothering it feels. "That night wasn't your fault." 

"I know," lie. "But the dream… it was so bad. You were gone. Mylo and Claggor were gone. Vi was gone, dead," lie. "And it was just me, and it was all my fault, and I… I…" 

Vander's hand squeezes Jinx's shoulder, and she startles, turning around to look at him again. This time, she sees something different reflected in his gaze; something soft, but mournful, not quite sympathy – or pity – but bordering on the line between sorrow and grief. 

"It makes me disheartened to hear you talk about yourself this way," he says, so sadly, and he squeezes her shoulder again. "But we'll keep telling you it's not your fault until you believe it, just like we have before." 

But it is my fault! Jinx wants to scream, wants to start battering her fists against Vander's chest until he recognizes her for the jinx she's always been, wants to run. She can't bring herself to do any of that though; instead, she sniffs, tears burning in her eyes. 

"I know you struggle," Vander tells her, "and that you get in your own head and see patterns that nobody else can. It's what makes you the smartest girl in the world, but it also breaks you down when you're feeling low; but you don't have to put yourself back together on your own. You just have to talk to me, okay?" 

"Okay," Jinx sniffs again, and the sob that escapes her is entirely against her will, strangled and torn from her own throat. 

"Oh, baby girl, come here," Vander pulls her sideways until she's pressed into his arms, wrapped in a tight hug, hands stroking her hair and her back and holding her so tightly, tight enough that the weight of the world cannot cling to her any longer. "That's it, just let it out." 

And so she cries, and cries, and cries. Cries for the Powder of this world, who grew up without a sister but with a father figure so comforting she never gave into her own misery the way Jinx had. Cries for Vi, who never got to see this Powder at her best and only knows Jinx at her worst. Cries for Vander, who deserved a chance to raise them, deserved to live. 

As her sobs slowly turn into wheezing breaths, her lungs scraped raw and empty, Vander pats her back, chuckling sadly as he pulls away so he can look at her again. "This is what happens when Ekko steals you away from me so much," he says; light and airy, like he's trying to tease her. 

Her cheeks flush as soon as she realizes that's exactly what he's doing, and she shakes her head. "Ekko's not doing anything," she says quickly, "we're just helping each other out."

"Hey, you don't have to hide things from me," Vander says with another laugh. "He's a good kid. Brings out the best in you, I think. He has my blessings." 

"He doesn't need your blessings!" Jinx sputters, and she scrambles out of Vander's lap, her cheeks still flushed red and warm under her own touch. "Oh my god, dad–" 

"-I'm just saying!" Vander throws his hands in the air placatingly, and Jinx scowls at him but it has no heat in it, lips sliding into a pout as she huffs and turns away from him, wiping at her eyes. 

She's… happy here, even if she wants to pretend otherwise. As she slips away from Vander, away from the Last Drop, to find Ekko squinting at her suspiciously, nose scrunched up in that way it gets when he's trying so hard to think, his notes scattered everywhere… 

"...why are you always looking at me like that?" she can't help but tease, sliding into her seat and scanning over the pages upon pages of notes that Ekko's left for her. "Got something you wanna say, wonder boy?"

Ekko's cheeks redden, and he quickly looks away, going to his own stacks of paper. "No!" he denies quickly; too quickly, it makes Jinx's grin widen. "Just happy you're here, that's all. Now come on, we have work to do." 

"We have work to do," Jinx echoes, and she stares at the shards of the Hextech gem that had destroyed her life ten times over, gathered so neatly and put on full display. He must've gone back for them, she realizes, once he knew what caused the explosion. 

He really does want to go back, doesn't he? 

And Jinx… well, she's happy here, she knows she's happy here, she knows she could be happy here, and yet something inside her churns restlessly at the thought of watching her Ekko walk away and leave her as the only one left in this timeline who knows what could have been. 

She's happy here, but she misses Vi, misses Isha. They deserve to see this timeline too, she thinks, that same something coiling around her guts, making her nauseous and sick. Maybe I can bring them here. That would be good, wouldn't it? A place we can all be happy and free, together? 

She doesn't know if that's what she wants to do or not, but at least it helps her justify her decision. 

As Ekko rambles about what little he knows about making hextech, as the little imp Yordle he had brought along to help out – someone else from their world, Jinx recognizes his face but doesn't remember his name – starts drawing graphs, Jinx herself starts fiddling with the equipment, slipping into a familiar state of mind. 

It will be the first time she built something new with the purpose to help instead of destroy. 

This better work. 

THE END