Chapter Text
Blisters and bedrock. His thumb traces the letters absently, not even having to see them to know their shape. The lighter in his hand was well worn, the once gleaming silver tarnished with time, but the letters and carved gears were still there. Blisters and bedrock. The mantra they had once saluted to, the motto of their movement. Blisters and bedrock. It had become a habit to feel the words under his fingers when his brain tried to rationalize their defeat. Tried to convince him it was all for naught. He was the last one left, the only one standing to fight for Zaun.
With a sigh, Silco finally drops back in his chair, the lighter still in his fingers, turning over and over. Placing his cigar in his mouth, his free hand moves to his pocket, feeling for the watch that was supposed to live there. Another sigh escapes his lips when he finds it empty, not even having to look up to know what happened.
“You have free reign of all my other possessions, Jinx. I merely ask that you leave that one alone.”
“I wanted to see her.” The blue haired girl sighs, “It’s the only picture anyone has of her.” Silco’s gaze finally wanders up to the rafters. Jinx is lounging on a crossbeam, examining the pocket watch carefully, “Everyone just stopped talking about her. Even you.” She turns to him finally, red eyes full of tears. “I miss her.”
“I know.” He sighs again, slumping against the back of his chair as the grief seeps into his skin. It had only been a year and a half without her, not nearly long enough to forget the lifetime they had spent together. “I do as well. You remind me of her, when she was your age.” His cigar hisses as he stamps it out in the ashtray.
“Crazy?”
“You’re not-” He sighs once more. “Come here, child.” His voice is gentle, as he motions her down. He turns his chair slightly, giving her the space to crawl into his lap and rest her head on his shoulder. “You’re a fighter, Jinx. You’re our daughter. Nothing else matters.”
“Everyone says-”
“Don’t listen to them.” He pulls the watch from her grasp gently, tracing his fingers over the words engraved into the front. Our time will come. A smile tugs at his lips as he clicks it open, revealing the miniature portrait of a woman inside. Her hair was dark, and pulled into two buns at the top of her head, with a curtain of bangs framing her face. The smile on her face was gentle, contrasting the fierce look in her green eyes. “People will call anyone with radical ideas and the willpower to achieve them crazy. Anyone outside of what they believe to be normal. To the people in Piltover, every one of us down here are insane.”
“Even her?” Jinx’s fingertips graze over the edge of the watch face.
“Oh yes,” He assures the girl, “To them, she was the craziest one of us all. She had the chance to leave Zaun for good, but she always came back.” He can’t help the small chuckle that bubbles up at her memory, “The Beating Heart of Zaun.”