Chapter Text
Tangerines
Fruit was new. Like the pajamas she made out of colorful grain sacks Ekko brought up from the large kitchen on the ground floor, where there was enough food to satisfy the needs of what was essentially a buzzing little town – full of people recovering, or growing up, or both – three times a day, everyday.
She knew what the hell fruit was, of course, but it was now more common than ever, coming freely through the bridge in cartfuls, piled up all pretty so it would not bruise in their wooden crates (those got recycled as well). Jinx had a vague recollection about fruit being good for children – which only reinforced how shitty of a childhood they had, really, because despite Vander bending over and backwards they rarely had the luck to split the juicy, fresh treat between the four of them, and that what fruit you can get supposedly changed with the passing of seasons. Supposedly, because Zaun did not have much in the realm of seasons, especially the deeper you got. Must have been something from outside... well, from topside .
At the hideout, seasons had always been more noticeable. Ekko said so, and Jinx had to believe him. She could not grasp how much of a difference it was, because between the clean air, all the collapsed buildings leaving glimpses of the sky, the plants thriving in the poisonous gaps between them, and the effort to clean around the boulders as much as possible, the rest of the city was starting to actually do seasons as well.
The first few slowly crept up on them, the citizens barely noticing the slight temperature changes and what was at first a scarce handful of green sprouts. But as time passed, it became clear that things were not going back to the way it was before the war – and it was good.
When cold came, it brought days when the sky was sealed by a dome of grey – dark and impenetrable clouds, so thick even the upper levels felt one again crushed by concrete and steel beams. But then, the wind blew. Whirling and wrapping around the tall structures, going through the holes in the walls like She Herself was whispering secrets, and the sky came back with its daunting, neverending blue. At that point, a timid sun peeked through the swirls, shining on the dirty, icy puddles.
Come spring, they would let Isha loose after she squirmed her hand out of theirs for the first half of their walk, watching her from afar as she gathered flowers growing out of the rubble – who knew what the actual toxic stuff those things had in them, but it's not like they could tell her to avoid touching the whole city.
After climbing and jumping around buildings and ruins, following pipes and running until they almost lost sight of her – almost –, the girl gets so tired one of them has to carry her back to the base. It means she'll get knocked out immediately after dinner, but instead of being relieved for the break, Jinx often finds herself sprawled on the floor, staring at Isha sleeping in their shared cot, poking at her cheeks or bare arm with her prosthetic finger because she misses their playtime and she's bored . Utterly bored. Until she decides it's time to bother her man, or let him bother her...
And with spring and more supplies also came a lot of good, tasty fruit. Sadly, strawberry season was over before Jinx could sneak some cream from the kitchen to dip them in.
But then the time of peaches came around. She hungrily followed the wet, sticky trail dribbling from Ekko's chin, tracing his jaw and the whole length of his neck with her tongue, laying open mouthed kisses to the bobbing knot at his throat so that not a drop would go to waste – until it was Jinx’s turn to bite into the soft pulp of the peach, and he would rush to drink the juice from the shallow dips in her collarbones.
Apparently it was a warm year, and peaches lasted well into autumn, especially if you were willing to shell out more money. Luckily, Vi's (and Ca-) care packages from topside, included other costly treats, often delivered with a hug and, after Jinx told her sister about their peaches escapade, a knowing wink.
Then winter came again, and with it the mark of the first, full year of her new life with the Firelights.
That morning started differently than usual. Instead of tinkering her way to a new invention trough some useless scraps, or finding new ways of usefully, purposefully blowing up shit ( sometimes that reminded her of Silco's old work in the mines ), Jinx found herself unload the kitchen stores out of carts and pulleys, passing them out to those deemed safe enough to cook their meals. It helped with the cold. Because apparently, the Shimmer boiling in her veins gave her everything but a stable, warm body temperature.
With the goods still lying around, some people were peeking in to grab a late breakfast or a little something to munch on during their work, often far away from base. A young cook gave away a handful of nuts to the lady batting her lashes at them, and behind a stack of boxes a husband and wife exchanged giggly kisses along with the snacks. Jinx walked towards the old lady handing out bread and fruit to the many firebug children that buzzed around her. She grabbed a crate to help her replace the empty one on the table.
The small, squished spheres inside it caught her attention. She tentatively held one, passing it to her ungloved hand. The outside felt pebbly, but the raised parts were waxy-smooth, and the small thing fit entirely in her palm. This one still had a tiny leaf on its top, and while it wasn't the greenest, it sure looked healthy enough. Better than what they had before, anyway.
But it was the color that intrigued her the most. All the fruits were fully mature, and only a few of them were bruised or sported some yellow spots that looked sparsely spray painted. They were a full, deep orange color, barely shining white where the light hit their dotted skins. She could not recall ever seeing one before, not even at the Commune, where she and her sisters feasted on those weird spotted fruits for weeks, biting and suckling at the bright blue flesh like starved babies.
The old lady playfully took the fruit out of her hand, letting it fall into a little boy's waiting grasp. The smile on the woman's face flattened some lines and deepened others, as she started telling her:
“Tangerines, lass. I was but a wee thing the last time my old man shared one with me. Had to wait years to taste 'em again.”
Oldie patted down the boy's cheek before sending him on his way, probably where a small group of ankle-biters of all heights and colors had started gathering. Her eyes stayed gently on Jinx, piercing through the girl’s head despite her effort to shield it. Because one year in, kindness was still a bitch – and really, it wasn't Oldie's job to know the specifics on how fucked up Jinx was. The moment passed, and the woman got back talking in a sing-song voice, sorting and passing food. As soon as the old lady grabbed the tangerine, Jinx's own eyes searched for that vivid orange until they stopped again on the plump orbs peeking out from the crates.
"But nou,” the woman wondered, “where is yer own wee one– oh .”
Her gaze softened, but even with that warning and heightened reflexes, Jinx didn't notice anything until her train of thoughts was interrupted by warmth spreading from her belly and the low thud of something hitting her after running full speed across the whole courtyard.
Jinx quickly shifted her balance, stabilizing herself to avoid falling as thin, snake-like arms wrapped around her hips. Her hands moved on their own before she dropped her gaze, finding another pair of smaller, warmer hands and moving on to settle against plush cheeks out of instinct, and nothing else.
“Well, hello again, bug.” She spoke, her soft tone matching with her touch. She dragged it on the child's face, palms and knuckles and fingertips all taking turns in feeling her skin. Isha did not answer until she finally looked down, until Jinx could hear her – always so eager to be heard. To be listened to.
“Hi mama. ”
She raised her arms and ended up signing somewhere between Jinx's jaw and her belly button, but the last sign quickly brought her right hand to her chin, giving no room for mistakes even when read in that warped perspective. The girl's bug-like eyes peeked from under the brim of her hat, open wide, like she wanted to take in all of Jinx before she disappeared in a puff of glittery pink smoke in front of her.
“Nou where were ya, lassie? Goin' away without tellin' bye?” The old lady chimed in, speaking to the child.
As it stood, Isha had a history of being distrustful of adults, and of everyone, actually. She listened when Jinx told her Ekko could be trusted, and it didn't take long for the Boy Saviour to charm the little girl. But that also meant he became another pair of legs to hide behind when she didn't want to talk to someone. Hell, the kid only liked the two of them, Sevika (surprisingly, or maybe not), Vi, and Caitlyn had to bust her ass and send up some very thoughtful presents before they got a small fraction of the trust Isha reserved for the other two.
It took months of sharing lunch at the bar before they could be sure Isha wouldn’t bite Steb and the new Peanut Patrol Friends in what she perceived as self defense, and she only just started warming up to other adults on base – starting with Scar just because of sheer exposure.
The old lady, however, was amongst those who fed her thrice a day. She liked to waltz around the tables sprinkling cheese on everyone's noodles, talked in that curious accent that went up and down and up again, and besides the usual snacks she took out of the pantry, Oldie's standard response to not understanding what Isha was signing was raising her shoulders and handing out a treat anyway.
So, despite interrupting their moment, the crone was safe from a bitten hand, or even a scowl. Instead, Isha raised her head and turned around to address her, hopping on one leg and waving. Curious, she started peeking around the crates and baskets, encouraged with a hand on her back by the lady, before turning her attention back to Jinx.
“Were you with Ekko?” She asked Isha.
A small nod.
“Kissed him goodbye and everything?”
Another small nod, more energetic.
“I kissed daddy goodbye, I wanted to find you too. ”
Then she started to tell her what briefly happened during the less-than-one-hour they were separated. She shared what she was going to do that day, posing her questions and alternating between signing her name and occasionally tapping her thumb on the chin.
Jinx didn’t turn away from her, drinking in every word she said with the utmost interest. She reached for the top of the fruit pile nearby, grabbing one tangerine in each hand.
It took longer than expected for the memory to come in, faded to the point of almost silence. The citrusy smell was starting to fill the air and attach on her clammy skin, until she could make out someone joyfully telling her that–
“Tangerines are for good luck!”
Good luck.
Yeah, if that was the case, she didn’t have many tangerines after that.
She must have been so little… Jinx couldn't quite remember who that was. It could’ve been her mom, but the smell of axle grease was sorely missing from the memory. It sounded like something Vander would say when they were kids, something her older siblings would repeat as they handed her the fruit – the image unclear until she filled the missing details with the ones in front of her right now.
So, that's what they reminded her of. The color.
Now, Jinx has no doubt that, in the event of a mid morning rumble, Vi would never let Isha go hungry, feeding her whatever was in the pantry of that wretched bar she so badly wanted to rebuild, no need to give her something extra from home. Still, she lowered to close the distance between their faces, helding out the two tangerines before Isha's eyes, plump, bright and round, hoping she'll get the joke by herself. Instead, the girl tilted her head to the side like a puppy, exhaling a soft “huh?” . She pursed her lips, staring back at her with those big, orange and amber saucers of hers. Just as Isha started to lift a hand (never one to pass on food), Jinx put one fruit back while spinning the other between dexterous fingers.
“Hey, why don't ya take one for the road?”
Isha grabbed at the tangerine with both hands, eyes beaming as she rushed to sign her thanks and stuff the fruit in the pocket of her vest, struggling to fit the whole thing in. Jinx knelt down to help her, she broke the stem and raised the pocket’s fabric flap until the treat inside it fit just right. Isha stopped hopping like a bunny for a moment, and at the end she repeated the last sign as she patted her vest.
“You have one large pair of tangerines on your face, Scuttlebutt.”
“Oh, isnae she bonny? A lucky lass, she is.” Oldie nodded.
Still on her knees, Jinx grabbed Isha by the shoulders and blew cold air on the kid’s face, causing her to giggle and swat her hands at Jinx’s chest to make her stop. Tangerine eyes fluttering open and close, hiding away between thick eyelashes to escape her silly prank, just as she had to dodge those tiny hands trying to land a hit on her shit-eating grin.
§
“You coming to call us for lunch at The Last Drop at noon, hm hm ? ”
“Like everyday, mama.”
She counted herself lucky.