Chapter Text
“You’ve got to stop doing this Ekko,” Vi said as she turned on the hose.”I can’t do this every time you know.”
She ran her fingers through his hair in a way that was almost caring. But she smacked him with the back of her hand. He winced slightly at the blow. Ekko closed his eyes as the grease and grime slowly began to wash off.
“Sorry, Vi,” he apologized. She took a deep sigh and grabbed Ekko’s hair, pulling his face upwards to pay attention to her.. “Ow hey!”
“Your apology would mean more if this stopped happening, now put on some decent clothing, Vander's waiting for us,” she dramatically—in Ekko’s opinion—dropped the hose and began to climb her way out of the junk heap. Ekko frantically pulled on his clothing and started after her.
Vi made the climb seem easy. But she was from the trenches. When in a good mood Ekko and Powder could bully her into telling a story about her life before The Bridge. About her house tucked away in a crevice, and the days she spent rock climbing. Vi scaled the mounds of metallic rubbish with an ease and grace no Piltie would ever understand.
Ekko, in contrast, carefully checked every movement he made. There was no redo to a mistake made in the junk heap.
Vi waited for Ekko on one of the support beams that was placed over the junkyard. Benzo told him that this place used to be a processor of some kind. However the undercities rubbish was too much for the plant, and it was shut down. Now there were only two factory level trash compactors left in the undercity.
“Took you long enough Little Man,” Vi goaded. She casually leaned off the beam, hands in her pockets. Carefully balanced as she walked across the skeleton of the processing plant. Ekko held out his hands on either side, and followed.
The journey from the junk heap to The Last Drop wasn’t long. Which was nice for Ekko, considering how often he had to be hosed off there. He followed in Vi’s shadow as they traversed the back alleys. CItizens of the Lanes— criminals, thieves, and murderers—stared at them from darkly lit corners. However travelling with the daughter of the Hound of the Underground had its perks. The biggest being protection.
“Vander!” Vi barked upon entering the bar. Her adoptive father looked up from the customer he was serving, and bowed his head in acknowledgement. His eyes hesitated—for a quarter of a second—on Ekko.
“Glad to see you two made it back, even Mylo was starting to worry.” Vander cleaned a seemingly glass absentmindedly. Vi snorted at that.
“Don’t believe you,” she scoffed. Vi continued on towards the back rooms signaling for Ekko to follow.
“Ekko,” Vander spoke calmly. “Benzo’s looking for you, I’m going to call him. He can come pick you up.”
Ekko crossed his arms, “I don’t need Benzo to pick me up. I know my way back, I can make it.”
“Don’t argue with me on this one. Trust me it’s better if you have a chaperone.” Ekko rolled his eyes at Vander’s statement.
“Come on Vander, I was younger than Ekko when I was going around by myself. Let the kid go,” Vi countered with.
“It's not that I don’t think that Ekko can handle himself…” Vander began before Ekko interrupted.
“If you think I can ‘handle myself’ then let me go home!” Ekko demanded. Vander sighed and continued.
“Times are… more dangerous now. Kids shouldn’t be travelling alone anymore,” Vander placed the cup he had been cleaning away and tossed the cloth on his shoulder. He crossed his arms and faced the kids. “You two, all of you in fact, are stronger and more resilient than I was at your age. But it's my job to take care of you Vi, and to help Benzo with you Ekko.”
Ekko turned his gaze to the floor and glanced over at Vi. Her eyes were trained on the backdoor, which looked increasingly favorable to the current conversation. Vander turned around as he heard the front door open.
“Vi go back to your room, Ekko stay here.” Vi gave Ekko a two finger salute before exiting. Ekko hopped up onto a barstool. Laying his head down on the table he sighed.
“Chin up kid,” the newcomer said. She took a long sip from her drink before placing it down. “Life can’t be that bad.”
“The kids being overdramatic is all, Sevika.” Vander refilled her drink, eyes trained on Ekko.
“I’m not being overdramatic!” Ekko objected. He leaned back slightly, palms pressed to the table, and glared at Vander. The old—not really—man chuckled, as though what Ekko said was funny. The newcomer, Sevika, joined in.
“Listen kid,” Sevika tilted her glass to swirl her drink as she said this. “I envy having your problems. Be over dramatic. Be a kid. It’ll suit you well in the long run.”
Sevika returned to her drink before engaging in conversation with the women sitting next to her. Vander silently placed orange juice down in front of Ekko before leaving to attend to his other customers. Ekko sipped his juice and stared at the back door which was open slightly. He squinted his eyes, and made out a form on the other side.
Powder shyly waved from the other side of the door. Ekko returned the gesture–smile to wide and cheeks flushed—before hovering his fist over the other hand. He hit it three times against his palm.
Rock, paper, scissors… shoot!
Ekko slammed his fist down against his palm in a firm ROCK . Powder flicked her hand upwards in reminiscence of a gun. Ekko jumped off the bar stool and towards the back door. Powder pushed the door aside—a mischievous grin blazing on her face.
“Cheater,” he snarked. Powder stuck her tongue out at him. It made him smile.
“It’s not cheating. Gun beats everything, that is the rules,” Powder teased. Ekko huffed, his lips still quirked in a half-smile.
“No it's not,” Ekkoo retorted. “It’s not even in the rule book.”
“I don’t think rock-paper-scissors has a rule book,” Claggor put in, leaning against the doorframe. “Hey Little Man, I thought Benzo was picking you up?”
“Yeah, Vander’s making me wait for him, which is stupid,” Ekko whined. “I can get home perfectly fine on my own.”
“I don’t know about that, you might get covered in oil and grease again.” Mylo joined in, punching Claggor in the arm.
“Hey!” Ekko objected.
“Ekko, my boy!” a booming voice came from the bar’s doorway. Ekko turned to see Benzo waving jovially to him. “We have to go, it’s getting late.”
“Bye guys,” Ekko said to his friends while running over to Benzo. He was eager to return to the clocks and gears of Benzo’s shop.
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“I could’ve walked home by myself," Ekko complained once they arrived back at the shop. Benzo turned the lock on the shop shut.
“I know.”
“Then why didn’t you let me?” Ekko implored. Benzo glanced back at Ekko before moving to the front desk.
“It’s beginning to become too dangerous Ekko, if I’m completely honest. Tensions are high with Topside as of late. I don’t want you wandering the Lanes without supervision,” Benzo blew out the gas lamps in the shop. The only light shown from outside the shop, the tainted green hue of what was left of the Grey. At this Benzo turned away from Ekko and into the backrooms.
The place Ekko had called home for the last three years was small. He’d heard one of Benzo’s topside customers once describe it as a “studio apartment.” The couch Ekko had found on the side of the road was crammed next to the kitchen island—a feature Benzo was very proud of. The floor of the kitchen was covered in beaten-up, scratched painted tiles. They showed images of Janna, recounting her various myths and stories. When Ekko was a child he used to spend hours cleaning the tiles to see the stories. Ekko climbed onto one of the bar stools Benzo definitely hadn’t stolen from Vander. He watched Benzo as he cooked. The smells and sounds soothed him, maybe this was Benzo’s intent after all. Food always calmed him down.
“Here, eat this,” Benzo set the plate in front of Ekko. The two ate in silence. The only sound was the scraping of their forks against the plates. Benzo put his utensils down, and readjusted his glasses. “Look Ekko… you’re young so you probably won’t understand. But I can’t have you wandering the streets alone anymore, it’s just not safe. I can call Vander and you can go with his kids. But I don’t want to see or hear that you’ve been out and about by yourself. Understand?”
Benzo pointed his fork in a somewhat-threatening and somewhat-childish manner at Ekko.
“Fine,” Ekko agreed. Benzo stood up and took his plate.
“Good. I need you to work the shop tomorrow, Vander needs me. Official Lanes business, you know how it is.” Ekko gave Benzo a short two finger salute before heading to bed.
He pulled up the blanket from the end on the couch, then tugged his pillow closer. Ekko stared into the dying fire, confused. He mulled over everything other’s had said today. About how the undercity had grown more dangerous. He didn’t see it. He hoped he never would.
Ekko’s eyes began to drift close and his mind drained of thoughts. He embraced his slumber.